Diamond Life Page 17

  “Shawn, are you this forward on all your first dates?”

  “If I know what I want, yes, I am.”

  Lily nodded and went back to picking at her salad. This was too much, too fast. She did not imagine that her first date with a man who knew her background would go this far. She thought about Rick, her first serious crush. One weekend, the summer she turned sixteen, she went fishing with him and his two older brothers in upstate New York. That whole weekend, she’d wanted so desperately to tell him. But at sixteen, she just didn’t have the words. She’d already been taking hormones that she bought illegally online. And her body, always slight and feminine even without hormones, didn’t give her away at all. At least not the parts Rick could see.

  She knew Rick was crazy about her. His arm was permanently attached to her shoulders and he had this adorable habit of looking for her whenever they were separated for a bit and saying, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She let him kiss her for the first time that weekend at the dock, their legs hanging over the side. His brothers whooped and hollered from the other side of the lake. He caressed her face with his hand and then slowly brought his hand down to the side of her breast. Rick was so sweet and tender with her, it was physically painful to pull away from him. But she had no choice. This was presurgery. And there was no way she was going to be able to explain away that appendage when the time came. Rick went away to school. Lily waited. He returned and came to her job at the Waffle House before he even dropped off his luggage at his parents’ house. By then, she’d found the words.

  She honestly thought that Rick was going to hit her right there in the break room of the restaurant. She’d prepared for it. What happened instead was much worse. Lily was shocked when Rick dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. He didn’t lash out at her. He didn’t scream or ask her why she deceived him. He just cried. Hard. “I knew you were too good to be true,” he said, crying. “Why couldn’t you be real?”

  Lily wished he’d hit her instead.

  “I need to take things really slow,” she said to Shawn.

  “Are you at least glad that I know?”

  “I don’t know. This is all very new to me. I just have to absorb it and try to deal with all these weird things I’m feeling.”

  “This isn’t my first time . . . in this situation,” Shawn said.

  Lily raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s not?”

  “No. I thought you should know that. So you can see why I’m not freaking out about it. Lily, I don’t care who you were when you were born. And I don’t care who you were five years ago. I’m interested in who you are now. That’s it.”

  “In the other relationship,” Lily began, “did you . . . did you guys ever . . .”

  Shawn closed his eyes and held up a hand to stop her from speaking.

  “Yes. And I enjoyed myself very much.”

  Lily let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in. He was more experienced in her world than she was! And she had been about to write him off because of his tiny penny loafers.

  “Okay. Well, that’s . . . good to know.”

  “And I don’t care what anybody says, it doesn’t make me gay.”

  Lily looked up from her plate. Who said anything about being gay?

  “Well. Yeah. That’s kind of the point of reassignment surgery,” said Lily. “You’re not having sex with a man. You’re having sex with a woman.”

  “Some people think that just because you’re dating a woman with male genitals that you must be—”

  Lily gently placed her fork down on the table.

  “Wait. Shawn. I don’t have any male genitals. I’m a woman. Last year, I had my male genitals removed. And I now have a vagina.”

  Lily had no idea she’d ever be able to say that sentence so plainly. But when she realized that Shawn was mistaken about who she was, she knew she had no choice. She watched as Shawn’s eyes widened and wondered if there would still be time to catch the last round of Jeopardy. She’d been having a winning streak all week against all the contestants.

  “You mean . . . you got it taken off?”

  “Yes, Shawn. I have girl bits. On the top and the bottom.”

  Shawn took his napkin out of his lap and put it over his unfinished plate. He drained his wineglass, poured another glass, and drained that one as well.

  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said, not making eye contact.

  “Ya think?”

  “I thought you were . . . Corinne said . . .”

  “So you don’t like women,” Lily said, leaning back in her chair. “You like chicks with dicks. Well. Sorry. I’m just a boring old girl.”

  “I’m not gay,” Shawn said.

  “Of course you’re not . . .”

  Shawn stood up and placed several twenty-dollar bills on the table. Lily looked around the restaurant to see if anyone was paying attention to how fast he was trying to get away from her.

  “It was nice meeting you,” Lily said.

  Shawn was looking behind her toward the exit. She was shocked at how quickly he’d checked out.

  “Right,” Shawn said, pulling on his coat. “Same here.”

  Shawn walked quickly out of the restaurant, never looking back.

  “If I get a penis tacked back on I’ll be sure to give you a call,” Lily mumbled to herself as she stood up, slipped into her coat, and buttoned it all the way up.

  “I swear to God I told him everything!” Corinne said.

  Lily had gone straight from the restaurant to Corinne’s job at the bar.

  “Well, somehow you left out something important. Or rather left it in. Or something . . .”

  Lily laughed—a little too loudly—at her own joke and Corinne looked nervous.

  “Lily, are you okay?”

  Lily shrugged and accepted the glass of wine Corinne offered.

  “I spend my whole life refusing to get close to any guy because I’ve got a dick. And the first guy I’m interested in after the fact doesn’t want me because I don’t have a dick. I think this would actually be considered ironic.”

  “Would it? I’m not sure if . . .”

  “Corinne, I don’t care if it’s ironic or not!”

  Corinne went back to washing out the dirty glasses lining the back of the bar and kept quiet until she heard Lily crying softly.

  “I am so sorry, honey,” said Corinne. “This is totally my fault.”

  “No it’s not your fault,” Lily sniffed. “This is just the way it is. This is what I’m going to have to deal with. Dating guys who don’t know what to make of me.”

  On the way home, Corinne kept up a steady stream of conversation and didn’t bother waiting for Lily to respond or join in. Lily knew she was chatting nonstop on purpose, and she appreciated not having to make conversation. All the way home, she thought about Shawn and his tiny penny loafers. She had actually envisioned them tucked under her bed. She’d already made plans to get them buffed and shined. On the train, Lily nodded as Corinne babbled. She kept her eyes on the shoes of every man on the train. None of them were wearing loafers.

  Just before Ras grabbed the handle to the door of the studio, he glanced at the Starbucks next door. Birdie’s wife Alex was sitting in the window, typing furiously on her laptop. He could hear his wife urging him to leave Alex be. But he also heard Cleo’s voice, hinting about talking to Alex. Ras looked around and then slipped into the café and sat in the seat next to Alex. She didn’t notice him and he didn’t say a word. He looked out of the window and occasionally glanced at her screen. He couldn’t read whole sentences but he saw words like in vitro, needles, and fertility. He glanced once more and Alex finally noticed and looked up at him.

  “Hey,” Ras said. He didn’t look at Alex, instead continuing to look out the window.

  “Hey, Ras . . .” Alex said. She closed her laptop and put her chin in her hand. “What’s up?”

  “Just saying hello.”
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br />   “Bullshit,” Alex said softly.

  Ras turned to face Alex.

  “I want you to mind your business and stop talking to my wife.”

  “Your wife happens to be my friend.”

  “She’s not your friend. You interviewed her for a story. That doesn’t make you friends.”

  “That was a year ago. We’re friends now. And what do you care if I’m friendly with Josephine?”

  “I just don’t like it.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” said Alex. “If Josephine says she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, fine. But she’s an adult. She can decide who she wants to be friends with.”

  Ras wanted to choke Alex. Knowing that Birdie was right upstairs in the studio waiting for him was the only thing that kept him from wrapping his hands around her neck. He could actually feel his fingers flexing and he forced himself to keep his hands at his side.

  “Fine,” Ras said. “But don’t get yourself hurt talking about shit you don’t know anything about.”

  “Are you still messing with Cleo?”

  A flash of scenes played in Ras’s head. He stood up and leaned in close to Alex’s ear.

  “This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Ras whispered. “You have no right to ask me that. None!”

  “And what about Reina?” Alex asked. “Is there something Cleo knows about her that Josephine doesn’t?”

  “Where the hell are you getting this bullshit from?” Ras said, his face contorted.

  Alex pulled her bag onto the counter and pulled out the copy of Platinum that Cleo had sent her when the book was published. Ras recoiled in horror.

  “Get that thing away from me,” Ras said, pushing the book away.

  “It’s a book,” Alex said. “Not a bomb.”

  Ras sat back down next to Alex and picked up the book.

  “That’s what you don’t understand,” Ras said. “This book is like a bomb. It almost blew my marriage and my life to bits. You wrote this, Alex. And it almost destroyed me. To see you sitting across from my wife chatting her up . . .”

  “I understand all that,” Alex said. “But did Cleo make this stuff up? Or did it all really happen?”

  Ras felt like that was beside the point so he kept quiet.

  “Exactly,” Alex said. “I know what Cleo did was wrong. But you gave her the ammunition. You’re guilty as hell and you need to check yourself. Not me.”

  “Before you came around interviewing my wife, she didn’t pay attention to what was going on in the industry. You ruined all of that.”

  “Read what Cleo wrote to me,” Alex said, pointing at the first page of the book. Ras sat up and read, moving his lips quickly as he did: “‘You should ask Ras about that baby he adopted. There’s a good story there. And if I know you the way I think you do, you won’t be able to resist finding out the truth. You can thank me later.’”

  He slammed the book shut and slid it in Alex’s direction.

  “That bitch is insane,” Ras said. “Completely out of her mind.”

  “So why would she tell me this?” Alex asked. “She said there’s a good story there. What’s the story?”

  “You know the story,” Ras said. “You were at my house the day Josephine met Reina for the first time. A young lady from Trelawny contacted my grandmother and let her know she was having a baby and planned to give it up for adoption. She knew Josephine and I had been trying for a child. She wanted her baby to have a better life with us. You know this, Alex. There’s no hidden agenda here.”

  “So what is Cleo talking about?”

  “She’s sending you off to chase a nonexistent story just to mess with me.”

  “Is the baby . . . is it really someone you were . . . involved with?”

  “What are you asking me?”

  Alex looked around the café and then leaned closer to Ras and whispered.

  “I mean, is Reina really your baby? Were you involved with the girl from Trelawney?

  “You really think I could do something like that? Have a baby by someone else and pass her off to my wife? That’s sick, Alex.”

  “So your answer is no.”

  “My answer is no. A thousand times no. I swear to God, I do not know who Reina’s biological parents are. I never met the young girl. I don’t know anything about her except what my grandmother told me. Which was not much.”

  Ras could tell that Alex’s mind was moving a mile in a minute.

  “Look, Alex. Do this. Find out who the mother is. Find her. I’m sure Reina will want to know one day. Find out the story with this girl. I’ll send you what information I have. When you find out, you will see that I’m telling you the truth. Reina is my daughter. And I love her dearly. She is the only pure and innocent thing in my marriage. I put this on my life. My story is the truth.”

  Ras saw Alex’s face soften. She nodded.

  “I don’t need to find out anything,” she whispered.

  “No. Do your reporter thing. Find the girl. Get the truth. You’ll never believe me until you do.”

  Alex shook her head, but Ras knew better. He had a feeling she’d already started looking into Reina’s biological parents.

  “Did you tell my wife what Cleo wrote in that book?” Ras asked.

  “No. She would have been devastated. And I wasn’t sure if Cleo was telling the truth. That’s why I wanted to ask you.”

  Ras stood up.

  “I’m going to talk to my wife about all of this. We’ll straighten it out. But right now, I need to make some hit records for your husband.”

  Ras extended his hand and Alex leaned over and shook it. On the elevator up to the studio, he rubbed his hands together, the way he always did when he was nervous or deep in thought. What the hell was Cleo trying to do? She’d always been vindictive and spiteful. But this was different. Making things up out of thin air? If Josephine suspected for a moment that Cleo knew something about her baby that she didn’t, Ras didn’t have a chance in hell of saving his marriage. Or his life for that matter.

  Josephine was silent. Her eyes were closed and she had her legs tucked under the swing, cradling the baby as she rocked back and forth. Ras sat on the steps leading from the back porch to the backyard. He turned around to face his wife and waited for her to speak.

  “Why would she make up something like that?” Josephine finally asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Does she know Reina’s biological parents?”

  “No.”

  “Do you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you still . . . ?”

  Ras’s heart pumped hard and he felt the sweat glands under his arms explode.

  “No.”

  Josephine opened her eyes and glared at Ras.

  “I said no.”

  “I hear what’s coming out of your mouth. But I don’t know if it matches what’s in your heart.”

  Ras climbed up the steps and sat next to Josephine on the swing. Reina had fallen asleep on Josephine’s chest, and she laid her on her lap. Ras leaned over and stroked the baby’s back.

  They were quiet for a long time, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the beach just a few hundred feet away.

  “Would you stay with me if I cheated on you?” Josephine asked.

  Ras thought about Josephine on her back, spreading her legs for a nameless, faceless man. He felt his stomach retch and a pounding sensation begin in his temple.

  “That would not happen.”

  “But what if it did?”

  “We would deal with it.”

  “You would forgive me?”

  Ras got up and walked into the house. Josephine followed, walking slowly so that she would not wake the baby.

  “I’m just curious,” said Josephine. “How would you deal with it? How would you get over it?’

  Ras took the steps two at a time to their bedroom and sat down on the bed. He heard Josephine put the baby down in her room and then he saw her standin
g in the doorway.

  “It’s different when a woman does it, isn’t it?” Josephine said.

  Hell, yeah, it’s different. Ras thought to himself. But he knew better than to admit it. Josephine wanted to fight. And Ras was too weary to take it there.

  “It’s a fucked-up thing to do,” said Ras. “No matter who’s doing it.”

  Josephine shrugged and turned down the bed. She climbed in and rolled over to her side. She was asleep almost immediately. Ras stayed up, flicking through channels on the television but finding nothing that would hold his attention for more than thirty seconds. On one channel, he saw nothing but Josephine spread-eagled on their marriage bed, a naked man on top of her. Then on the next channel, there was Josephine, on her knees in their bathroom, taking the man into her mouth, moaning with delight. Ras closed his eyes tight and saw another image of Josephine, tied to the bed the way he always tied Cleo up. She was being slapped across the face and smiling through it, wriggling and groaning in ecstasy. After a few more minutes of the images flashing through his head, Ras stood up and felt his head start to spin.

  Ras flew into the bathroom and made it just in time. He threw up for ten minutes, until nothing came up but blood.

  Breathless and weakened, he turned away from the toilet and sat on the floor. He looked up and saw his wife standing above him. She tossed a towel into his lap.

  “Welcome to my world,” she said, before returning to bed.

  The thrill of discussing his entire sordid life story had gotten old very quickly. A rap song lasted five minutes. And Z knew how to cram twenty years of history into sixteen bars. But talking in full sentences with Alex each week was draining. Now that they were finally getting to the end of the book, Z thought things would get easier. He was wrong. No matter how deep he went into the details of an event, Alex went deeper, twisting the knife. Even when he stopped to cry, her eyes remained dry. She waited patiently for him to compose himself. And then she’d pick up exactly where she left off.

  “What did your stepfather smell like?”

  Z brought his head up and dried his eyes with the back of his hand. He grabbed a napkin and noisily blew his nose.