I Left My Back Door Open (7 page)

“Accident on Sheridan Road,” Freddy reported as he opened the door for me. “You headed that way?

I shook my head. “I'm headed out to O'Hare to pick up my friend and her daughter.”

“You still stay fifty-some-hundred North Sheridan Road, don't you?”

“Yeah, I'm still in Edgewater.”

“Soon, you won't be able to tell the difference between the North Side and the South Side, after your people get through with it. Y'all done already took over Uptown and Rogers Park.”

I groaned. Freddy and I had just shared a Kodak moment and now he had to go and spoil it.

“Plenty of black folks keep their property up,” I protested. “There are some nice black neighborhoods on the South Side,” I added.

“Yeah, but folks still afraid to go outta they doors at night. And the business districts are a mess. You want something tore up, just dial, N-I-G-G-E-R-S. They'll get the job done.”

“I don't have time to argue with you, Freddy. You sound ignorant.”

It had been like a furnace all day, but by the time I stepped out of the car at the airport, there was something of a breeze. I waved excitedly toward two familiar figures, sporting long braids and pushing luggage carts. It would be great having my best friend home this summer. Our old asses could check out the scene together, take in some blues clubs, maybe even attend a few singles parties. We could support each other in our attempts to find Mr. Right.

“Look at Tyeesha, she's bigger than I am!” Sharon pointed, after we all hugged each other to death. “She can't even steal my clothes anymore,” She chuckled as we loaded the car. “Girl, I may as well be taking care of a grown woman.”

Tyeesha rolled her eyes before she slumped into the backseat. I could tell that she didn't want to hear it.

“Don't feel bad, T, we can walk the lake together.”

“Yeah, look like you've gained, too,” Sharon said, glancing at my middle as I slid behind the wheel. “You all make me look skinny.”

“Haven't seen your behind in almost a year, and the first thing you wanna do is cap on folks' weight.” I tried to sound casual as I started up the car, but I felt sensitive about the pounds that had crept up on me, and figured Tyeesha did, too.

“I'm sorry, girl, you're right. It's good to see you.”

“So, what did you want to tell me?” I asked, driving out of the airport.

“I'll tell you after we get settled.”

“Yeah, it might cause you to have an accident,” Tyeesha warned.

“I can't stand all this suspense! Unless you robbed a bank, or murdered somebody, or blew up a building, just blurt it out.”

Tyeesha put on her headphones. “This is an A and B conversation. So I'm gonna C my way out of it.”

“Good, Tyeesha, 'cause you've already given me your two cents,” Sharon said.

“Well, I'm waiting with bated breath to give you mine,” I said.

“Okay, Dee Dee.” Sharon cleared her throat. “I'm a lesbian.”

“You're a lesbian!” I shouted, slowing down to keep from rearending a minivan. “How can you be a lesbian? You've been a heterosexual fool the whole almost thirty years I've known you.”

I paused long enough for Sharon to tell me that I hadn't heard her correctly. But she didn't open her mouth.

“Remember, I'm the one who called Reggie Davis to ask him if he liked you. After you begged me to, I might add.” I shook my head as I changed lanes to avoid a tailgater. “You have a long rap sheet. Remember us following Michael Green's car to see if he was going over to Paula Benjamin's house?” I whined as if I were recalling fond memories. “Damn near had me hiding in bushes.”

I continued trying to sound like a good sport. “And nobody could tell you not to marry …” I caught myself. I didn't want to mention Tyeesha's disappearing-act father. He'd hung around just long enough to see her graduate from kindergarten.

I was thoroughly confused. I'd assumed that Sharon's heterosexuality had been written in stone. I just couldn't understand how she could suddenly do such an about-face. I mean, I never saw any signs. I also felt abandoned. It was like my running buddy had run out on me.

“That was a long time ago,” Sharon said. “I was desperate to have everything fit.”

“Didn't everything fit?” I asked. “No pun intended, but I don't remember hearing any complaints.” I sped up to stay with the flow of traffic.

“Yeah, things fit, so long as I didn't know any better.”

“So, now you suddenly woke up and smelled the pussy, so to speak. Is that what you're saying?”

“Dee Dee, please, don't be crude. Remember, Tyeesha's still in the car.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, glancing into my rearview window. Tyeesha's eyebrows were raised almost to the roof of the car. “Keep those headphones securely over your ears,” I ordered.

“Acknowledging my feelings toward women goes beyond sex,” Sharon continued. “It's about emotion and intimacy. Things I never got from a man.”

“I don't know anybody who has a truly intimate relationship with a man. Although in all fairness, Phil is probably more capable of intimacy than Sarita. But generally speaking, men are from another planet. You can have sex without intimacy,” I continued. “And you can have intimacy without sex. But having both is rare. Most women I know get their intimacy needs met from their good girlfriends and female relatives. They're just thankful if they can coexist with a man. I didn't think true intimacy was even a goal these days.”

“Well, it is for me. But maybe I just want a little more than most women.”

I groaned as I maneuvered around a row of orange construction cones.

“They're always working on the roads here,” Tyeesha observed from the backseat.

“Sharon, didn't you say kids on campus don't even get into relationships anymore? That's what you told me. They're ridiculed as Velcro twins if they do. They just go out, drink and pick each other up. There's no intimacy. You said that yourself.”

“So, Dee Dee, are you wigging out or what?” Sharon asked.

“No, I'm not wiggging out,” I said, loosening my tight grip on the steering wheel. “I'm just surprised.” I glanced at Sharon. “Have you ever even been with a woman? Have you even kissed a woman?”

“See, Mom, that's the same thing I asked you.”

“Go back to your music! Dee Dee, if I had, I would've told you. I wouldn't keep something like that from you.”

“You haven't done anything? Then how did you come up with this foolishness?” I asked, changing to the slow lane.

“You are wigging out!”

“No, I'm not,” I insisted. But I secretly wished I still had a stick shift to grab on to for support. When I turned forty last year, I decided I was too old to shift gears and bought an automatic.

“I don't appreciate your calling my feelings foolishness!”

I could hear the hurt in Sharon's voice and see Tyeesha's eyes widen in my rearview mirror. My voice softened. “I'm sorry, dear heart. I want to support you. I just wondered how you know you're gay, that's all.”

“How do you know you're straight?”

“Because men peel my paint, and women don't. For me, it's always been that simple.”

“Well, maybe for some of us, things are a little more complex. I would never have chosen to be gay. But I'm not ashamed of who I am. And I'm not going to beg for anybody else's approval.”

“I don't think you should. You have to do what's right for you. It's just a surprise, that's all. I mean, you must've had some inkling all these years. You're forty-two years old, for heaven's sake. Isn't it a little late to be coming out of the closet?”

“Yeah, it's embarrassing. I'm probably too ancient to do anything about it. My dentures might fall out,” she said sarcastically.

“You're getting oral now. Remember, T's here.”

“I forgot for a minute.”

“Speaking of Tyeesha, I would expect it more coming from her.” I sighed. “I hate to say it, but it just seems so lame at your age.”

“Excuse me?” Tyeesha pulled off her headphones. “Keep my name out of it.”

“It's just that you're young, your hormones are raging. Your mother's on the verge of menopause. Her hot days are behind her. She'll be facing hot
flashes
soon,” I said.

“Life begins at forty,” Sharon declared.

“Well, for the record, I'm strictly dickly,” Tyeesha informed me.

“Your virgin behind better hush,” Sharon warned.

“Sharon, didn't you have a crush on a teacher or friends or somebody?”

“Yeah, a few times, but I repressed them. Boys showed interest in me and I was relieved. I didn't see being gay as an option.”

I hesitated. “You didn't have a crush on me, did you?” I asked, glancing at the rows of chocolate brick apartment buildings above the freeway.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, really? When?” I swallowed.

“Way back when we were kids.”

“Oh.” I breathed a sigh of relief. And let a car cut in front of me. “When we were still back at Morgan Park High?”

“No, even before that, eighth grade, back at Shoop. As soon as I got to know you, it wore off.”

“Well thanks; I mean, I'm glad that your attraction was short-lived. But you know you could do worse.”

“You can't have it both ways. You're my best friend, but you're just not my type, romantically. That's all.”

“So, what
is
your type, romantically? I mean, just out of curiosity.”

“I'm not sure. But you're a little too artsy to be my type. Maybe we're too much alike.”

“Well, that's a relief.”

“So, Dee Dee, tell me quick before I faint. Is we friends or is we ain't?”

“I hope we stay the best of friends,” I said, glimpsing the breathtaking downtown skyline. “This doesn't change that as far as I'm concerned.” I sighed. “I guess I was partly looking at this from a marketing standpoint. I just like to think of my friends as being on the cutting edge. I mean, lesbian is so passé. Can you at least identify yourself as bisexual? That way you can keep your options open. You should see all the personal ads in the
Sun-Times
from black women who are bi-curious or bisexual. It's damn near an epidemic. Why not ride that wave?”

“Because I'm not interested in being trendy. I'm just interested in being Sharon.”

I glanced sideways at Sharon as I exited the freeway. “Girlfriend, I may not understand you, but I accept you.”

“Then can I be open with you?”

“Open about what? You haven't done anything. You don't have any firsthand experience. You don't even have a lab coat yet.”

“If and when I do, I don't want to feel like I have to repress myself. Like I can't talk about stuff. If the thought of two women making love repulses you, let me know now.”

“Ugh,” Tyeesha volunteered.

“Grow up, Tyeesha.”

“Yeah, grow up Tyeesha,” I agreed.

“Mom, you can't have it both ways. I can't grow up
and
stay your little girl.”

“Well, try.”

“To answer your question,” I broke in, “no, I'm not repulsed by the thought of two women being together. I've seen it in movies. I've read about it in books. If there's a good story line, I can share the fantasy. I'm just not interested in doing it myself, that's all.”

“Well, that's cool.”

“Cool was never the issue. I will continue to be your cool role model,” I said.

Sharon and Tyeesha giggled. “I don't have a problem with gay people,” I continued. “This is 1996, not 1956. I work with gay people. I even have a gay friend. You remember Randall.”

“How could I forget? You cried a river on my shoulder.”

“Well, once I got over the shock and the betrayal, Randall and I became closer than we ever were when we called ourselves dating,” I admitted. “He confides in me and so can you.”

“I was just afraid that you might be more threatened by a lesbian than a gay man.”

“Look, I don't feel threatened at all. That was never the issue,” I said, running a yellow light. “I'm secure in my sexual identity.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“It just seems like you should've figured yours out twenty years ago. That's my only sticking point.”

“Maybe I was in too much denial back then. I was numbing myself with alcohol, remember.”

“Sharon, if I
remembered
the seventies, I wouldn't have really been there.”

“And if I'd
come out
, back then, I wouldn't have T. Did you ever think of that?'”

“That's right, I would've never been born,” a voice protested from the backseat. “And without me, she's nothing.”

“Dream on, big ears!” Sharon teased.

“I guess sometimes things happen when they're supposed to happen,” I conceded.

“
Sí
.” Sharon nodded as I pulled in front of her South Loop townhouse.

“
No por mucho madrugar amanece más temprano
: Just because you rise very early, doesn't mean daybreak is going to come any sooner.”

five

When I first laid eyes on the mediator, I saw that he wasn't fine. Skylar Thompson looked no better than most reasonably attractive brothas in horn-rimmed glasses. But he was still easy on my eyes. Because my eyes weren't looking for fine. They were just scoping for a man that was attractive to
me
. And Skylar's full, kissable lips definitely rang my bells. Not to mention his bunny-shaped nose that made me want to nuzzle it. His satiny smooth skin reminded me of the color and finish of a violin that beckoned to be stroked. I enjoyed finding a man attractive by
my
standards. It was like listening to my own private orchestra.