this had to be some kind of a joke. There was no way in hell that the man he had been with for the last five years had a child and didn’t tell him. He looked hard at him, waiting to hear “I’m kidding” or “Gotcha”, but after moments of silence he began to realize that this was no joke and he was now ready for an explanation. “What the fuck do you mean you have a little boy? How long have you known about this phantom child and why in the hell haven’t you ever mentioned this little fact to me?” Khalil asked from behind clinched teeth so his voice wouldn’t carry across the restaurant.
“Baby, I just found out on Thursday.” He replied throwing his hands up in the air as a sign of surrender.
“Oh, how fucking convenient. The day I go out of town you find the fuck out that you have a child.” So far his comments had been low key but he knew that if Tyrin kept on going he may have to raise the decibels on his voice.
“Will you calm down and listen to me please.” He asked, nervously looking around the restaurant to make sure that no one was noticing the uncomfortable situation between two black gay guys.
Tyrin explained the story from beginning to end, constantly re-enforced the fact that he had no idea she was pregnant. He studied Khalil’s body movements and noticed that he was breaking ground with him. He talked for what seemed like an eternity trying to get his story through to him and was relieved when he saw Khalil pick up his fork and begin to taste the dessert. When he began asking questions of concern in regards to the health of Caleb, Tyrin felt a tad bit relieved. He knew that Khalil was angry and filled with
lots of questions, but he was happy that the conversation was no longer one sided.
After dinner they drove around discussing the topic further until all was calm between them. Exhausted with the conversation they decided to go to the Laugh Factory on Sunset blvd to get their minds onto something else. Tyrin felt a sense of relief knowing that he still had Khalil on his side and for all intents and purposes, the worst was part was over.
SIX
“Pick up the phone! I know you’re in there!” Khalil shouted into the answering machine. Spencer was comfortably lying on his couch watching the Golden Girls . He reached down onto the floor, picked up the cordless, and laughed out loud at the antics of Rose. “What do you want?” he asked.
“What are you doing?” Khalil questioned.
“Minding my own damn business.”
“I need to talk to you.” Khalil said.
“Ughhh, what now Tina? Tell Ike you sick of his mess and just leave.” he joked.
“This is serious. Have you eaten breakfast yet?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Meet me at DuPars’ on Santa Monica in about forty-five minutes, my treat.”
“You’re damn right it’s your treat, because I’m just fine right here on my couch watching these old white ladies act a mess. And I can’t stay long because I got a client at 12:30.”
“Just get up and go.”
“Alright, damn. Bye.”
Spencer walked into the restaurant and spotted his best friend sitting at a table in the corner. He approached, looked down at him, and asked in a rather nonchalant manner, “What’s wrong, Blanche?” He sat down and made mention of the fact that he was glad he called because he was down to his last pack of ramen noodles. They glanced over the menu and decided to split an order of pancakes and individually order a la carte items.
“Where’s Tyrin and what did he do?” Spencer asked in effort to get the ball rolling as to why he was beckoned here.
“He and Craig went down to Venice beach to play basketball.”
“Craig ain’t gay yet? He got that Ice Cube thing going on. You think I could reel him my way?” Spencer said in an attempt tolighten the mood.
“If Craig were gay he’d be a lesbian.” He somberly replied. “Anyway this meeting is about me and not your weak ass conversion tactics on the straight men of L.A.” he said as