Abide with Me Read online

  Acclaim for E. LYNN HARRIS’s

  Abide With Me

  “Filled with sensuality, deception, friendship and love.”

  —Ebony

  “Breezy, bighearted entertainment.”

  —Entertainment Weekly

  “Anyone interested in the complexities of characters dealing with relationships and reconciliation has to pick up a copy of E. Lynn Harris’s Abide With Me. It’s the perfect cap for the trilogy that began with Invisible Life and continued with Just As I Am. Compulsively readable.”

  —The Advocate

  “Harris skillfully crafts a story of secrets and seduction, which should satisfy his longtime fans and enlist new ones.”

  —St. Louis Post-Dispatch

  “Phenomenal.… E. Lynn Harris is a literary genius!”

  —Spokesman

  “Harris’s ensemble of characters—gay or straight—are entertaining, outspoken, and colorful. But more importantly, the Arkansas-raised author’s themes of love, friendship, family, and intimacy are universal.”

  —Black Issues Book Review

  E. LYNN HARRIS

  Abide With Me

  E. Lynn Harris is a former IBM computer sales executive and a graduate of the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville. He is the author of eight novels: A Love of My Own, Any Way the Wind Blows, Not a Day Goes By, Abide with Me, If This World Were Mine, And This Too Shall Pass, Just As I Am, and Invisible Life and a memoir, What Becomes of the Brokenhearted.

  In 2004, Not a Day Goes By was made into a nationally touring theatrical production. In 1996, 2002, and 2003, Just As I Am, Any Way the Wind Blows, and A Love of My Own were named Novel of the Year by the Blackboard African American Bestsellers, Inc. If This World Were Mine, Abide with Me, Any Way the Wind Blows, and A Love of My Own were nominated for NAACP Image Awards. If This World Were Mine won the James Baldwin Award for Literary Excellence. Harris was named one of the fifty-five “Most Intriguing African Americans” by Ebony for four consecutive years, including 2003. In 2002, Harris was included in Savoy magazine’s “100 Leaders and Heroes in Black America.” He was inducted into the Arkansas Black Hall of Fame in 2000. Harris divides his time between Atlanta, Georgia, and Fayetteville, Arkansas, where he is currently Writer in Residence at the University of Arkansas and has served as advisor and cheer coach for the Razorback cheerleaders.

  Also by E. Lynn Harris

  INVISIBLE LIFE

  JUST AS I AM

  AND THIS TOO SHALL PASS

  IF THIS WORLD WERE MINE

  NOT A DAY GOES BY

  ANY WAY THE WIND BLOWS

  A LOVE OF MY OWN

  WHAT BECOMES OF THE BROKENHEARTED

  FIRST ANCHOR BOOKS EDITION, MAY 2000

  Copyright © 1999 by E. Lynn Harris

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Anchor Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, in 1999.

  Anchor Books and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the Doubleday edition as follows: Harris, E. Lynn.

  Abide with me: a novel / by E. Lynn Harris. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Sequel to: Just as I am.

  1. Afro-Americans— Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3558.A64438 A35 1999

  813′.54—dc21 98-48974

  eISBN: 978-0-307-83176-7

  Author photograph © Matthew Jordan Smith

  www.anchorbooks.com

  v3.1

  This novel is dedicated to three magnificent people

  Martha K. Levin for changing the course of my life, and then becoming a treasured friend

  Blanche Richardson, the best friend a writer (or anyone) could ever be blessed with

  Rodrick L. Smith (a.k.a. Everick) for friendship, and an abiding love I can depend on

  In Loving Memory

  Maye F. Raymond (Aunt Maye)

  Colton Delano Sledge

  Rosa Hilda Brown

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Author

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Book One: What You Can’t See When Your Eyes Are Closed Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Book Two: Imitation of Life Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Book Three: Save Some Secrets for Yourself Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Epilogue: The Power of Silence A Letter …

  A Meeting …

  A Reunion …

  Acknowledgments

  I am grateful for God’s grace and blessings amid life’s quiet storms. I am thankful for my family, for their support of my life and writing career, and most especially my mother, Etta Harris, and my aunt, Jessie L. Phillips.

  I am thankful to all my friends, both old and new, who always understand when I lock myself away from the world to write my novels. Special thanks to the ladies who’ve been my support system for over two decades: Lencola Sullivan, Vanessa Gilmore, Regina Daniels, Cindy Barnes, Robin Walters, Tracey Huntley, and to the new ladies in my life: Debra Martin Chase, Deanna Williams, Yolanda Starks, and Sybil Wilkes. To the men in my life: Rodrick L. Smith, Carlton Brown, Troy Danato, Kevin Edwards, Tim Douglas, Anthony Bell, and my new friend and brother, Brent Zachery.

  I am also thankful for the friends whose vast information helped tremendously with this novel: the beautiful and talented Broadway diva Brenda Braxton, Adrian Bailey (Mister triple threat), and Brian Evert Chandler (the best Curtis Taylor, Jr. I’ve seen on the stage). To the casts of Smokey Joe’s Café and the most recent national touring company of Dreamgirls, special thanks for showing me so much love. Thanks also to Tracey Davis of Wichita, Kansas, for the Jackson information and support.

  Special shout-outs to my brothers and sisters who write wonderful books (especially my sisterfriend Julia Boyd for your information about Seattle). A special shout to a woman who has become near and dear to my heart, Iyanla Vanzant. I thank you, Iyanla, for your friendship and wonderful writing, but more importantly your powerful prayers during my stormy days and those filled with sun. You are amazing!

  A standing ovation for my support team: my agents, John Hawkins, Moses Cardona, and Irv Schwartz (three of the best in the business); Laura Gilmore
(the best assistant in the world); my attorneys, Amy Goldson and my uncle, Councilman Charles E. Phillips; and my accountant, Bob Braunschweig. I also would like to thank my haircutting brothers, who are also great friends, Shannon Jones (Chicago) and Anderson Phillips (Scissors New York).

  In the publishing world I am also blessed with outstanding people; Stephen Rubin, the president of Doubleday, is the type of leader writers like me would follow anywhere. Welcome back, Steve. Thanks to my publicists, Sherri Steinfield and Patricia Blythe; and to Mario Pulice, the best art director in publishing and a man who always makes me smile (thanks for another great cover!).

  I couldn’t do what I do without great editors. Again, I’ve been blessed with the best: Blanche Richardson and Charles Flowers have helped me craft three bestsellers. Blanche and Charles are not only great editors but great people, and friends I know I can depend on. A special thanks to my line editor, Austin Foxxe of L.A., a talented writer whose work I hope to see soon on bookstore shelves. And to Rosalind Oliphant, for being my friend and test reader.

  The last person I want to thank has been a godsend through one of my storms. Janet Hill at Doubleday had always been a great supporter and friend. So I was excited and nervous when she agreed to be my in-house editor. Not only did she become the valuable leader of my team, but an even closer friend. How many people can say that about people they work with on a day-to-day basis? So thanks, Janet, for being, as the young kids say, all that.

  Finally, to my fans, the invisible friends I don’t know who read my books and give me the best word-of-mouth support in the industry. I couldn’t do it without you. (I love the cards and letters.) Thank you so much. This one is for you! God bless you all.

  BOOK ONE

  What You Can’t See

  When Your Eyes Are Closed

  1

  Summer came, tucked behind a flawless spring. Raymond loved perfection, but he did not know that with perfection, sorrow would soon follow. It started with a late evening phone call. Raymond Winston Tyler and Trent Michael Walters had retired to their large, loft-style bedroom after an uneventful Friday. The two were trying to decide if they should watch the local news or one of the three videos they had rented for the weekend.

  Raymond answered the phone on the nightstand after a couple of rings. He started to let the answering machine pick up, but the ring sounded unusually urgent and important. Maybe it was his younger brother, Kirby, or his best buddy, Jared.

  After about ten minutes of “Yes … Yes … I can’t believe this,” Raymond walked over toward the large bay window. As he held the portable phone to his ear Raymond gazed at a burst of orange and blue lightning slice through the clouds as the sky opened up and sheets of rain began to fall. It was both beautiful and frightening.

  Trent realized this call was important and went downstairs to the kitchen. A few minutes later he returned with a bowl of microwave popcorn, a box of peanut M&M’s, and two bottles of water, just as Raymond was hanging up the phone with a stunned look on his face.

  “Is everything all right?” Trent asked with concern in his voice.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Raymond said as he rubbed his forehead.

  “What?”

  “That was the chief of staff for Senator Patricia Murray’s office,” Raymond said.

  “The U.S. senator? And?” Trent quizzed.

  “I’ve been nominated for a federal judgeship,” Raymond blushed.

  “Get the fuck out! That’s great,” Trent said as he hugged his broad-shouldered partner.

  “I still don’t believe this,” Raymond said as his lips parted into a huge smile.

  “Why not? I’ve always known you’re the best lawyer in the world,” Trent said proudly.

  “Do you realize the next step would be the Supreme Court? What is this … I’m getting ahead of myself. Supreme Court, my ass! My pops isn’t going to believe this,” Raymond rattled off.

  “Call him,” Trent urged.

  Raymond looked at the digital clock on the phone and realized it was past midnight in Birmingham, Alabama. But Raymond wanted to share the news with his parents.

  “Do you think it’s too late?”

  “Raymond, how often does someone get nominated for the federal bench?” Trent asked.

  “You’re right,” Raymond said as he grabbed the phone and dialed his parents’ number. After three rings Raymond started to hang up when he suddenly heard his mother’s sleepy voice. A voice more familiar to him than any sound he’d ever heard.

  “Ma,” Raymond said.

  “Ray? Is everything all right?” she asked.

  “Everything is fine. I’m sorry to call so late. Where’s Pops?”

  “He’s right here. You want to talk with him?”

  “Yeah, but I want you to hear this too. Put me on the speakerphone.” Raymond knew his father hated the speakerphone, but he heard a click and then his mother’s voice suddenly sounding far-off.

  “Ray Jr.? Are you all right?” Raymond heard his father ask.

  “I’m fine,” Raymond assured him.

  “Then this better be good. Do you know how late it is?”

  “Yeah, but I thought you’d like to talk with the future federal judge from the Western District Court of Washington,” Raymond said. He liked the sound of his possible new title.

  “What!” Raymond heard his father exclaim. Raymond could hear his mother in the background singing, “My baby … my baby going to be a judge.” She sounded like the mother in the movie The Nutty Professor singing “Hercules, Hercules.”

  Raymond heard some clicking in the phone and then he could hear his father’s voice more clearly. Raymond Sr. had turned off the speakerphone.

  “Is Ma all right?”

  “She’s fine. When did all this happen? Why is this the first I’ve heard of this?”

  “I didn’t know I was even being considered. I knew there were some openings, but everybody in my office thought they were going to pick an Asian-American or this lawyer Charles Pope. I’m still in shock,” Raymond said. “I guess we can thank the Simpson trial and my taking your advice about helping out Norm Rice in his race for governor.”

  “Did Norm have something to do with this?” Raymond Sr. asked.

  “I have no idea,” Raymond answered. “I got the call from Senator Murray’s office. Her chief of staff said they had been trying to reach me all evening. But I guess we should all calm down because I haven’t been put on the bench yet. There is the confirmation process,” he warned.

  “Don’t worry about that. You’ll get it. I know they need some local color on that bench.”

  “I hope you’re right, Pops. I hope you’re right.”

  After hanging up the phone, Raymond sat on the edge of the bed silently, listening to the rain and thinking about how his life was getting ready to change. Again.

  During the Simpson trial Raymond had served as a talking head for the local NBC affiliate and had become something of a local celebrity, partly because he never seemed to take sides and also because Raymond was a very good-looking man. The station had been swamped with calls, faxes, and letters from women wanting to know Raymond’s marital status. Raymond and Trent would spend some evenings reading some of the offers from viewers. Ray had his secretary send each viewer a thank-you note stating, Mr. Tyler is very happy in his personal life. When the station offered Raymond a permanent position, he politely declined.

  His father was a retired family court judge and state senator who had always dreamed his son would follow in his political footsteps, and had suggested Raymond parlay his newfound celebrity into political prominence. It had been years since his father had encouraged him to pursue politics. His mother just wanted him to be happy.

  Raymond Winston Tyler, Jr., is one of the good guys. At least most of the time. Raymond is not perfect, but he wants the world to be perfect. The kinda guy who loves Oprah and Rosie, but might not admit he likes Jerry Springer as well. You know the type: he wants to ple
ase everybody.

  The firstborn of Raymond and Marlee Tyler, big brother to budding Northwestern Wildcats football star Kirby Wayne Tyler, and a great friend to many. He’s thirty-seven years old and already worried about turning forty. Ray’s a Southern boy, born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama. A graduate of the University of Alabama and Columbia Law School, Raymond has spent part of his adult life living and practicing law in New York and Atlanta.

  The last three years, he and his life partner, Trent, an architect, have been living in Seattle, Washington. They have been in a committed relationship for a little over five years. A successful partner in a small law firm, Raymond has finally discovered his paradise, in Trent, his fraternity brother, after years of going back and forth between male and female lovers. He once described himself as a sexual mulatto, but now he knows the true color of love. Now, this doesn’t mean he didn’t love the women in question or the men before Trent. He did. Nor does it mean he’s totally accepted his sexuality, but he has come a long way. He still doesn’t introduce himself with “Hello, I’m Raymond and I’m gay”; he doesn’t think it is everybody’s business.

  Being in a stable relationship with Trent has helped Raymond a great deal and it’s given him a sense of peace and security. With Trent, Raymond finally started to believe that true love with a man was possible. This was something Raymond thought was the impossible dream.

  But this judge thing might bring back some of those doubts he had when he was moving between the gay and not-so-gay worlds. Times have changed, but is the world ready for a black, gay federal judge?

  Trent is a lot different than Raymond, but like that old saying goes, he loves Raymond’s dirty drawers. Loved him since the first day he laid eyes on him when they were both pledging Kappa Alpha Omega at the University of Alabama. So what if it took almost fifteen years to admit it to himself or Raymond? He always considered Raymond the unattainable pretty boy. Trent figured it wouldn’t have mattered if Raymond was gay or straight; there was no way Raymond would want to be with him.