VERNONIS PAPA Ernest's son. The fact coiled in my head as I drove back to Carolinas Med. The shock of being a product of incest must have devastated him and influenced his relationships with the family. Did Vernon ignore the truth, or did he despise his grandfather for what he did to his mother? I pulled off Scott Avenue an into the parking garage.
"What a fucked-up family," I muttered.
I sat in the car for a while, my mind numb, before I could muster the courage to face Ruby. Did she know? Did any of the cousins know? Vernon was the oldest of their generation, but that doesn't mean he was the only one sired by their grandfather. Papa Ernest's only other daughter was Ernestine, Walterene's mother; could Walterene be another of his offspring? I reached Ruby's room and took a deep breath before entering.
She lay in her bed watching Oprah. "Derek," she clicked off the television and slapped the remote on the blanket, "that young woman doctor told me I'd have to stay another night."
"Why? What did she say was wrong?" I hated that I hadn't been there when she'd been brought back from the tests.
Ruby rumpled the covers up under her ample chest. "Says I have to wait for a technician that won't be here until tomorrow morning. I bet this is going to cost a fortune. Me laid up in bed for three days like some old woman."
I opened my mouth to remark that she was an old woman, but she must have read my mind; she held up her index finger to stop me from making the mistake of stating fact. "I," she protested, "am just as strong as you young folks, and I don't need all these expensive tests."
"Does your head still hurt?" I wanted to remind her why she needed to obey the doctor's orders. "Dr. McConnell only wants what's best for you, and if that means waiting for one more test, then you'll do it."
She smiled and held her hand out for me. When I came within reach, she grabbed my hand and jerked me to her. ''See, I have plenty of strength." She grinned.
I laughed at her display. "It's that bump on your head we're worried about, not your biceps."
Doctor McConnell opened the door and pulled up a chair. I sat beside Ruby on the bed. The doctor opened her folder and explained the tests in detail as we listened.
"So, she will be okay?" I summarized.
"Yes, the test tomorrow is procedural, but I don't think anything surprising will come from it." Dr. McConnell closed the folder and stood. "Ms. Harris, get some rest, and we'll have you out of here by noon tomorrow."
"Thanks, Doctor." I walked her to the door. Once outside Ruby's room, I asked in a quiet voice, "Is everything really okay?"
"Oh, yes," she said, "Ms. Harris is extremely healthy for her age. She could stand to lose some weight and cut back on her cholesterol, but overall she's fine."
I thanked her again and returned to Ruby. She had opened a box of chocolate truffles Valerie had brought her and stuffed one in her mouth.
"You know," I began, "the doctor said it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to lose a little weight."
"My girlish figure is my trademark," she managed to say between licking her fingers.
I let that opening slide since she was in the hospital. "Call Valerie and let her know about the tests. I need to get back and shower. I have a dinner date with Daniel."
"Bring him by." She smiled, then changed her mind. "No, don't. I can't have him seeing me in this sexy nightgown. I might steal him away from you."
I rubbed the flannel sleeve of her gown. "You're right, I better not let him see you in this." The thought of nightgowns led to bedrooms and late nights; my mind clicked to Papa Ernest. "Oh, how long had Great-Aunt Ernestine and Uncle Walter been married when Walterene was born?"
"I don't know; Walterene was older than me, but I think about three years. Why?"
"Just trying to get family history right in my mind."
She squeezed my hand. "I'm glad to see you're interested in us. For the longest time we were afraid you had disowned the Harris family."
If only I could.
THE OBSERVER BUILDING loomed before me as I pulled into the parking deck. The last time I had been there, I'd barely escaped with my life. The spring sun, still high in the sky, allowed plenty of light into the parking deck. I glanced around at the other cars, checking to see if anyone lurked nearby. Maybe I was overly cautious, but I eyed the entrance to the lobby and bolted toward it. A stocky black woman manned the reception desk. I asked for Daniel and she called him down.
"Hello," Daniel greeted. "I'm glad you could make it. How's your aunt doing?" His brown eyes held me for a moment; a smile extended below his mustache, framed by those irresistible dimples.
"She's doing much better, but they still have one more test tomorrow morning."
He motioned me toward the elevator. "I still have a few more things to do. Come on up." He pushed the button for his floor, then he turned and pinned me against the back of the elevator. "We've got twenty seconds before that door opens again."
Half of my thoughts involved alarm, panic, terror; the other half melted into lust, desire, and craving. Should I be afraid or excited? Why does he elicit both from me?
His strong hands grasped my waist and pulled me to him; I closed my eyes, flinching and pursing my lips at the same time-ready for either outcome. His lips brushed mine; a tingle sparked through my spine, sizzling into a bolt that squeezed my arms around him. I pulled his body closer to me, not wanting to let him go. The fear of a second before shifted to embarrassment at suspecting him of anything sinister. Our kiss became more urgent as the elevator slowed. I felt him pull away, but I held him tighter.
"Whoa, man." He laughed and straightened his shirt. "Put that thought on hold. I can finish up my work in five minutes."
"Sorry. I'm just glad to see you. I'll behave." I grinned at him as the doors opened to a group of workers heading home for the night.
Settling into the side chair as Daniel finished typing on his computer, I searched his cube for pictures of old boyfriends, but saw none.
"There," he pronounced, "I just need to submit this to the editor." With a few more keystrokes, he turned off the monitor and grabbed his jacket. "All done. Want to grab a beer?"
"That's what's been missing today-a beer." I winked at him. "I knew something still needed to be done."
SEATED AT A sidewalk table in downtown's Rock Bottom Cafe, we sipped our beer and watched people wander between restaurants and bars. Daniel's choice of drinking locations intrigued me; the cafe shared the block with Mark's Church Street penthouse. Coincidence? Maybe.
The waitress scooted between the packed tables and chairs to reach us. Over the chatter and laughter of the crowd, she asked, "Can I get you two more?"
Daniel flashed his dimples and ordered another round of beer. "This is a great place." he commented. "There are pool tables inside, if you want to play."
"Do you come here a lot?" I asked, tearing off a small corner of the beer-soaked napkin and rolling it into a little ball. The warm breeze mingled with the spicy aroma of sizzling steaks and garlic-seasoned potatoes.
"Not really," he said.
I searched my mind for a way to bring up Mark; I wanted to get his honest reaction.
"I was thinking," Daniel continued, "people in Charlotte aren't that homophobic. I mean, the threatening phone calls and this incident can't be because of my article. Not that I'm trying to excuse my mistake," he added quickly. "I believe there has to be another reason. You haven't been in town long enough to make any personal enemies."
Fascinated that he had thought so much about it, I asked, "If I left town, do you think it would stop? Everything seems directed toward me…" My words trailed off into a hazy white space in my mind; the fog parted with an image of Mark and me smiling and laughing like we did years ago, here in this town with Daniel, Walterene, Ruby, Valerie, Tim, Grandma, Dad, and even Gladys the Bitch. San Francisco, my job, Emma, and my other West Coast friends dissolved into the mist; all that remained were my family and Daniel. Could this be where I belong? In spite of the bizarre events that seemed to pop up around my existence in Charlotte, I felt anchored, like I had a stake in the actions surrounding me.
A familiar voice snapped me out of my trance. "What a surprise to see you here." Mark stood over the table smiling at Daniel and me.
I almost shit.
Daniel stood and offered his handshake. "Daniel Kaperonis."
"Dan," Mark shook his hand, "no need for introductions. We've met before, several times." He pulled up a chair and signaled for the waitress; she dropped off our beers and retrieved another one for Mark.
"Mark, I didn't know you knew Daniel," I said, checking Daniel's expression, which stayed cool and unreadable.
"Oh, yeah," Mark confirmed. "We've met before." He didn't look at Daniel, but kept his eyes on me.
I studied one man, then the other, waiting for either to continue. Finally, I asked, "Where?"
Mark glanced at Daniel as it to confirm a prior pledge. Daniel didn't return his gaze. Mark shifted in his chair. "Dan has interviewed me a couple of times. So, how's Aunt Ruby doing? I called her this morning, and she said she still has another test to go through." He turned to Daniel to clarify, "Ruby's our parents' cousin, a first cousin once removed. We call her 'aunt' for simplicity."
"She's doing well. I just left her before I met up with Daniel." I checked Daniel's expression, which remained calm and detached. Does he not like Mark, or does he want to hide something from me? I had the distinct impression I could be the third wheel at this table, and that feeling began to piss me off. "Daniel, you're being awfully quiet."
"No, I was just thinking about where we might go for dinner. This place seems a little crowded." He sipped his beer and grinned at me.
Mark, not missing a dig like that, responded, "Sorry, I didn't realize you two wanted to be alone."
Daniel kept quiet.
Now I felt a little sorry for Mark; Daniel could have been more civil to my cousin. "No, Mark, that's not it. I'm glad you stopped by, but we are on our way to dinner. Why don't you stay with us and finish your beer?"
He turned up the glass and chugged the last half of his beer. "Done," he said. "Derek, Dan, good to see you both again." He stood and dropped a twenty on the table, then hurried through the crowd.
"I'll be right back," I said to Daniel, then rushed after Mark. An older man in a navy business suit had blocked Mark's retreat and patted him on the back as they talked. I stood back until he had escaped the man's grip and continued toward the back door of the restaurant. "Mark, wait up."
He stopped at the courtyard patio door. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. Anyway, I need to get home."
"You weren't intruding. Daniel's a bit uneasy around you, and I'd like to know why."
He shifted his eyes back and forth, as if that helped his mind work up an answer. "You should ask him that."
"I'm asking you."
He sighed and let his gaze settle on me. "I think he knows about Allen Harding."
"Who?"
"The ex-employee I told you about who's threatening to sue."
I couldn't remember. "Why?"
"He said we fired him because he claimed we were slack on the building codes and paid off inspectors. He's threatening to inform the city inspectors, if we don't settle." Mark ran his fingers through his hair, then paused. "Of course," he thought for a moment, "Harding's basically blackmailing us, so why would he trust a reporter?"
Mark's take on the story started to make sense to me. "You think Daniel is gathering information from Harding about the company? And about Vernon?"
"Of course. Your friend Daniel Kaperonis is trying to defeat Dad's campaign anyway he knows how, and a story about a business scandal involving Dad would suit his purposes." He shifted his weight and leaned against the wall glancing back in the direction of the restaurant. "I just don't get the connection-if Dan publishes the story, Harding's threat is gone."
"You didn't sleep with him?" I asked, my mind more interested in the personal aspect than the political.
Horror contorted his face. "Harding?"
"No, Daniel."
"Sleep with Daniel?" He laughed and shook his head. "No, no. Do you think I'm that stupid, to have sex with a reporter if I didn't want all of Charlotte knowing?" He stopped laughing when he noticed my expression. "Oh, sorry."
"Well then, why is Daniel so against you?"
"Politics, or it could be you," Mark said. "Maybe he's jealous. You didn't tell him about us, did you?" His forward stance and hardness of his eyes, almost threatening, created compassion in me because he was scared, really terrified someone might know about our relationship.
"No. I wouldn't do that."
"Well, then, unless he thinks I know he's talked to Harding, and I get the company to confront the allegations before his big story breaks," he shrugged his shoulders, "who the fuck knows?" Mark turned to leave, then stopped. "He's your boyfriend, ask him."
I rejoined Daniel at our table. He sipped his beer and took a drag from a cigarette. "Is everything all right with your cousin?" he asked.
"I thought you were a little rude to him."
"You mean the comment about it being crowded here? Sorry, but I have never really trusted Mark Harris, and I didn't want to end up spending a lot of time with him." He reached across the table and touched my hand. "You're the one I want to be with-alone."
Pulling away from his touch, I asked, "So, what do you have against Mark?"
He sighed and ground his cigarette into the ashtray. "Mark is a closet case, if you didn't already know, and I think you do. That skinny wife of his is just a cover."
"Why do you say that?" I felt sweat break out on my upper lip. This was Mark's big secret; something he would kill to keep buried. Then my mind took a different direction: I thought I was the only one. "Did you sleep with him?"
Daniel smiled. "No, but I probably could have."
"Do you know anyone who has?"
"No," he admitted.
"Then how can you say Mark is gay if he never said it and you don't have first-hand proof?" I sat back in the chair. "Gay men are so petty sometimes; if a good-looking man is nice to them or not talking about pussy every minute, he's labeled gay. Is that wishful thinking, or just trying to burn a brand on people?"
"Whoa, why the defensiveness? Being gay isn't bad, but lying is." He watched me for a second, then continued, "I'm sorry I started this, and I'm sorry I was rude to Mark. I don't want to fight with you."
"Thanks," I said. "He's family; no matter how distant we get, we're still family and tend to take up for each other. Mark is the closest cousin in age to me, and we've been like brothers." I finished my beer and pushed it toward the end of the table. "What about grabbing some take-out and going back to your place?"
WE SNUGGLED ON Daniel's couch in front of a warm fireplace; the lights off except for the fire and a few candles, and the fragrance of garlic and butter from the shrimp scampi we'd devoured a few minutes earlier. With my stomach full, sleep threatened to take me at any moment. Safe and warm in his arms, I didn't want to get up and drive back to Ruby's empty house. "Would you mind if I stayed over?"
"You don't have to ask," he murmured in my ear. I closed my eyes, with a fleeting thought of Mark, Daniel, the scratchy-voiced man, and what they all really had in common.