Acceptable Lies

Copyright © 2020 B.D. Anderson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or

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electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except

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reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-7346178-5-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7346178-4-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number:  2020913887

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this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

All rights reserved.

This story is dedicated to my friend, Cheryl Braxton for her help,

and to Lisa Smith, my inspiration for Sugar. 

Chapter 1

Deception

Gabriel Wainwright walked into the library of the sixteen-room mausoleum that his parents called home and stood in the doorway. His father, Albert Wainwright sat behind the huge mahogany desk that had been in the family more than one hundred years. It seemed to Gabe that everything in the house just seemed so old. He couldn’t remember the scenery in the house ever changing.

The Wainwrights were well known all over the state of North Carolina. They were conservative Republicans through and through...old money...and always careful about how they presented themselves to the public. His father was the state’s Attorney General. His older sister was a partner in the law firm of McDaniel, Warren and Battle. Yes, the Wainwrights ruled, and Gabe knew that he alone was the fly in the ointment, the family renegade.

His father looked a bit tired, but Gabe wasn’t fooled. He’d asked him to come here...no, ordered him to come to the house and he couldn’t help but wonder if his father was setting him up for a fight.

Gabe stared at his father. He loved the old man, but Albert Wainwright had a lot of issues that separated the two of them. A part of him wanted to clear up a few misconceptions his father had about him, but he wasn’t sure if his father would believe him.

ALBERT WAINWRIGHT LOOKED up at his son standing in the doorway. He looked much younger than his twenty-six years and Albert couldn’t help but sigh. His son’s blond hair shielded his eyes and Albert wished that he would get a haircut, but that was the least of his concerns. Gabriel was his only son. Albert’s two brothers both had daughters and Gabriel was the last in the line of the Wainwright men. Albert Wainwright had been proud to be the one to carry on his grandfather’s legacy through his only son. The family name should have continued through Gabriel, but there was just one problem, his son was gay.

Albert felt like he should have realized it when Gabriel began to dance at the age of three. He wanted ballet lessons as well as modern dance. Albert had protested back then, but his wife Audrey had insisted, and his one weakness was that he could refuse his wife nothing. Albert had hoped it was only a phase. He watched his son grow tall and lanky. He didn’t want to believe it, but by the time Gabriel was fifteen and still dancing, the whispers had already started. Gabriel moved with a grace Albert felt that no straight man should possess. His pretty boy features, slim build and long hair that reached his shirt collar gave the illusion of femininity that turned Albert’s stomach. His brothers were always pointing it out to him every chance they got. It was a bitter pill to swallow and Albert had hopes that all of the whispers were lies, but his son never brought a girl home.

Albert recalled when he would introduce him to girls, and Gabriel didn’t seem the least bit interested. When his son finished college, he moved in with a man‒a man that was well known to be gay and flamboyant. Albert knew that Lee, Gabriel’s roommate made no secret of his preference for men and this fact alone put the nail in the coffin of any heterosexual hopes Albert had for his only son. A private investigator had taken pictures of Lee Walters with many different men, though he found none with Gabriel. Albert had prayed his son wouldn’t contract HIV.

Albert now pointed to a chair for Gabriel to sit down.

His son complied.

If only everything he asked of him could be so easy! He didn’t want to start the conversation off by going on attack mode. It wouldn’t solve anything and Gabriel would surely clam up. He decided to take the gentle approach instead. Gabriel, how are you doing son? he asked sincerely.

I’m fine, Dad. What’s up? Gabriel grinned as he stretched his legs out in front of him. I know you didn’t send for me to inquire about my health.

I’m concerned for your safety, Albert said clearing his throat. I know that you are grown and all, but your boyfriend is sleeping with anything that will bend over. I’m concerned—

Dad, I’m 26 years old, Gabriel replied patiently. Don’t do this.

I don’t want you getting sick, his father said gruffly. I’m trying to accept the fact that you’re gay, but I can’t accept the fact that my only son is putting his life at risk. This is hard for me Gabriel. You’re my only son and I know that I’ll never have any grandchildren.

Gabriel sighed. I’m not putting my life at risk, and as for grandchildren, there’s your beloved Sydney to consider.

Sydney cannot carry on the Wainwright name unless she has a baby out of wedlock, and that is not acceptable. Besides, Sydney is so focused on her career right now; I don’t know when she’ll settle down, Albert admitted.

Perhaps you ought to talk to her, Gabriel suggested. After all, she’s thirty-one and her biological clock is ticking.

Albert Wainwright ran his hand through his gray hair and looked up at his son. I didn’t ask you here to talk about Sydney. I had such high hopes for you, Gabriel, he whispered brokenly. You’re the last of the Wainwrights. You are the one that is supposed to carry on the family name. Now that you’re living an alternative lifestyle...sleeping with men, I know I’ll never be a grandfather to a Wainwright heir.

You never know... Gabriel replied, letting his voice trail off as he stared at his father. Anything is possible.

What the hell does that mean? Albert snapped. You’re gay, alright. I get it! Don’t mock me!

I never told you I was gay, Gabriel reasoned. You assumed that on your own.

Albert scoffed. You didn’t have to tell me. Your mother had you dancing in tights since you were three. You’ve never brought a girl home, and now you’re living with an obviously gay man who sleeps with a lot of other gay men. What part of your being gay don’t I understand Gabriel?

Gabriel sat back in the chair. You’ve obviously reached your own conclusions, so what do you want me to say? Is there something else you want from me? He stood up and pushed the chair back that he’d been sitting in.

There’s the benefit dinner coming up in two weeks. Your mother would like you to be there. She’s worked very hard to raise money for the African refugees, Albert replied looking at the calendar. Can you be there?

Of course, I’ll be there, Gabriel said grinning. Shall I bring a date, or will you provide one for me?

Albert’s eyes grew wide at the comment. I would prefer to provide one. We’re dealing with the church here and I don’t want you showing up with that walking advertisement for disease that you call a roommate.

Very well then, Gabriel replied mockingly. Please pick out an appropriate female for the occasion. Most likely, you’ll choose some thin brunette as always. He snickered then walked out of the library letting Albert know that the conversation was over.

Albert Wainwright put his head in his hands. He wished to God that he was wrong about Gabriel. His son always seemed to leave the question up in the air about his sexuality, but he never debated with his father about it. He seemed just to accept what Albert thought about him and Albert was a bit perplexed. He figured that Gabriel just didn’t want to voice his preference for men out loud. No straight man would allow his father to call him gay! No, Gabriel was gay without a doubt, and Albert wondered what in the world he could do to make himself accept that fact. Maybe he was in denial just as much as Gabriel appeared to be.

He sighed and picked up the phone. Several of his close friends had lovely daughters that would be perfect for Gabriel...if only that was what he wanted. He fought the lump forming in his throat. Why did life have to be so cruel?

GABE WALKED INTO THE apartment and slammed the door. His roommate Lee was perched on the sofa reading a magazine. He and Lee had been friends since college. Lee was tall, dark and handsome and had no problem attracting dates. His rugged good looks caught many a female’s eye, but he was quick to tell them that he preferred men. He always laughed at the looks of disappointment he would receive from females.

So how did things go with Daddy Dearest, he asked glancing at Gabe from the sofa.

How do you think? Gabe groaned, walking over to him. He had a complete folder on all your latest sexual conquests. He’s concerned about me catching a disease from you.

Lee threw back his head and laughed. Not to worry. I always use condoms, he said grinning. It’s sweet that he’s so concerned though.

Whatever, Gabe replied, looking through the mail on the coffee table.

So, he still thinks you’re doing me, Lee inquired tossing down the magazine, looking at his nails he’d put clear polish on.

Of course. You and I live together, so we couldn’t possibly be just roommates in my dear father’s eyes, Gabe replied sarcastically, tossing the junk mail back on the coffee table.

You’re not my type, Lee insisted, looking at him. I like my men hard and rugged.

My feelings are not hurt, believe me, Gabe remarked dryly. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He quickly opened a beer and took a swig.

Uh-oh Mr. Dancer, beer is not allowed, Lee said eying him. Can’t have you getting fat, you know.

I can have a beer, Gabe argued. I need it after meeting with my father. Besides, I have a high metabolism.

Please, high metabolism my ass! When you’re not dancing, you’re fucking HER most likely!

Jealous much? Gabe replied chuckling.

Oh, please! Lee stood up, rolling his eyes. Neither one of you could get a rise out of me.

That’s nice to hear, Gabe snickered, finishing off the beer and getting another.

Why don’t you just tell the old man the truth and put him out of his misery, Lee asked, walking over to him. This is the new millennium you know.

He can’t handle the truth, Gabe replied, shaking his head. I think he’d rather think that I’m gay than to deal with the reality of what is really going on in my life. Now, he’s just uncomfortable, but the truth will most likely get me disinherited.

You’re being overly dramatic, Lee pointed out.

Maybe, but my family is not the only one with issues, Gabe replied.

Don’t make me go to that big house on the hill he lives in and get that hood and sheet out of his closet, Lee teased.

It’s in the attic, Gabe said dryly. With all of his memorabilia from our family’s past.

You’re kidding right? Lee looked surprised. I was just joking.

It’s no joke. I found the robe in the attic when I was ten. I knew what it was. Believe me, when your grandfather was a member of the KKK, it makes you look at your family in a whole new light. Not only the robe, but he has a box with his father’s membership certificate, copies of the Crusader newspaper, as well as KKK pins and posters. Gabe shook his head. And my father wants me to carry on the Wainwright legacy? Yeah right!

But that was years ago, right? Your father has never talked that racist stuff to you, has he?

Gabe stared at Lee as if he was stupid. He didn’t reply immediately, but sipped his beer.

Has he ever used the N word? Lee persisted, apparently not willing to let it go.

"You mean did I ever hear the word, nigger or coon or porch monkey or spade? Yeah, lots of times." Gabe finished off the beer, throwing the bottle in the trash.

Damn, was all Lee could utter in disbelief.

Oh, he covers it up nicely, you know, Gabe replied sarcastically. After all, such talk is not politically correct. Therefore, we only use it in the privacy of our homes where there are no microphones recording our conversations, and we can be free to express ourselves.

Lee shook his head in disbelief, staring at Gabe. So, how did you turn out to be such a liberal thinker? And what about your sister? Don’t tell me that she’s just like him!

My sister is her father’s child. She idolizes him. She’s a lawyer because he’s a lawyer. She made her Daddy proud. She should have had the dick instead of me. He’d have liked that.

Well actually, it sounds like your father feels that she does have the dick. Maybe he thinks you let her have yours, Lee teased.

My penis is intact, thank you, Gabe snickered. Sydney can’t have it because I put it to good use.

You really need to come clean, Lee said pointing his finger in Gabe’s face. Put the old man’s mind at ease.

Gabe laughed at that comment. Shit, he’d go straight into heart failure for sure. No thank you. I don’t want that on my head.

He’s bound to find out eventually, Lee reasoned. Why not just tell him the truth?

I’ll deal with it in my own time, Gabe replied unconcerned. In fact, I hope he does find out, but I’m not going to be the one to tell him. He’s such a damn good investigator. He can tell me who you’re fucking, but he has no idea what his own son is up to.

Maybe he’s afraid to find out, Lee replied.

Gabe laughed. He has reason to be.

SUGAR RAE JONES WALKED into Jack’s Seafood and immediately spotted her daughter sitting at a table in the back. She didn’t remove her sunglasses but purposely walked toward her, aware of the stares that came her way.

Sugar knew she was ghetto fabulous. Hell, she invented the term. It had become her shield, her armor. She smiled seductively at a waiter who had turned and stared at her. She slowly removed her sunglasses and winked at him before returning her gaze to her daughter who frowned in obvious disapproval. She walked purposely past the waiter swinging her hips as she went by, her tight skirt accentuating all her beautiful assets.

Mama, her daughter said as she stood in front of the table. You’re ten minutes late. You know that my lunch hour is just that, an hour and it took me fifteen minutes to get here.

Sugar smiled at her and sat down. Why was her daughter always so uptight? She needed to relax a bit. I know, Honey. I’m sorry. She smiled at her.

Honey sighed and picked up the menu.

She loved Honey so much. Everything she’d done, both acceptable and unacceptable had been to give her daughter a better life, and she’d succeeded. Honey was college educated and had a good job. Sugar felt proud of her baby.

Look, Mama. I don’t see why we had to meet here, Honey complained. You know I’m trying to watch my weight.

Sugar laughed and patted her daughter’s hand. But this is one of your favorites. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with your weight. You have it all in the right places.

Honey grinned at her and made a face. Yeah, right.

You do, Sugar insisted. All that ass and those tits! My girl got it going on!

Mama! Honey responded, obviously embarrassed. I don’t want to attract a man with my body.

Sugar smiled at her and tried to hide her pain. She knew Honey thought she was a bit too flamboyant; that she used men for money and she partied too much. However, her daughter would never know the hardships she’d faced or the pain she’d tucked away deep inside herself. She would never know how she needed to be in control, because when she was just a child herself, the control even over her own body had been taken away. Now when men looked at her, wanted her, it was always on her terms and her heart was never a part of the equation.

HONEY JONES PUSHED her salad around on her plate. She should have known having lunch with her mother would be a bad idea. Any public appearances with her mother always drew attention and drama. Sugar Jones was the most flamboyant Black woman Honey knew. Her mom had been this way for as long as she could remember.

Her mother sat across from her with her Mary J. Blige blonde wig, her fake eyelashes and nails. She always wore her clothes too tight, and her breasts always appeared to be on the verge of breaking out of the confines of her too small top. She always wore five-inch heels, and her lips were painted a bright color, usually red.

Sugar Jones was a loud, ghetto fabulous woman whose very presence demanded attention, and today had been no exception. Honey had asked her mother to meet her at Applebee’s Corner Grill and could only hope she would be on good behavior and not attract too much attention. Her hopes had been quickly dashed however, when Sugar insisted for them to meet at Jack’s Seafood. Honey loved Jack’s, one of her favorite places and her mother knew this. She just didn’t want to test her own willpower, as she’d been determined to lose some weight.

Honey tried to be a good Christian girl, but her mother always attempted to test her faith. Her father was the son of a minister. Honey had spent equal time between her father and mother and it had been hard. On one hand, she’d been raised to believe in God, to go to church, read her bible and pray. Her mother however, wasn’t a believer and always challenged everything her father’s family tried to teach her. Sugar mocked Honey’s father and his parent’s beliefs, but insisted on Honey deciding for herself what she wanted to believe. It had all been so confusing, but Honey decided she liked the stability of her grandparent’s faith, rather than the wild and instability of her mother’s life.

Girl, how many hours do you put in that place? Sugar asked eying her daughter after the waiter who had been staring at her when she came through the door, rushed over.

Honey watched as his eyes took on an all too familiar glazed expression of lust as he approached their table. Ma, it’s not that many hours. I’m the manager of the Junior Women’s Department at Macys. I’ve worked hard to get this position. I have things to do.

You need a man, Sugar insisted, after giving the waiter her drink order. A good one with some money to take care of you. Forget this working your ass off shit!

I didn’t go to college for some man to take care of me, Honey replied patiently. I like working with clothes. I like fashion!

Sugar rolled her eyes. I don’t understand you, girl. Are you sure you’re my child? Maybe there was a mix-up at the hospital.

I don’t know. You tell me, Honey countered, glaring at her mother. While Honey knew that her mother was proud of her accomplishments, Honey felt like she was always trying to change her into a younger version of herself.

Yeah, you’re mine, Sugar replied grinning. You’re all serious and shit just like your bookworm daddy, but you look like me. I did your daddy on a bet, you know.

So you told me... Honey groaned. She’d heard the story a thousand times already. She couldn’t believe her mother liked telling the story of how she seduced her father who was a special education student because he had a sizable package. Maybe because her mother wanted her to know that Christians weren’t perfect either, which in turn would validate her own unchristian like behavior.

So, when are you going to bring him around to meet me? Sugar asked eying her daughter.

What are you talking about, Ma? Honey asked innocently. Bringing the love of her life around her mother would the last thing she wanted to do. She hadn’t even bought him around her father just yet, and she knew how her mother would react if she did bring him to meet her.

Shit, don’t lie to me Honey Dew Jones! Sugar replied, pointing a manicured finger at her. I can hear that pussy of yours purring from over here. Somebody’s stroking it for sure.

Ma, please. Must you be so vulgar? Honey replied rolling her eyes. Even though she’d grown used to her mother talking like this, she still hated it. It had been this way since she was a child.

Must you be so stuck up? Sugar countered, grinning at her. And to think I raised you the best I could!

What makes you think I have a man? Maybe I’m just playing the field, Honey insisted. Maybe I don’t want to be in a serious relationship right now.

Bullshit, Sugar countered as she popped her gum, an action which got on Honey’s nerves. She shook a long red nail at her daughter. You are seeing someone. I can tell. I just want to know why you don’t want me to meet him. I know how to act around men, you know...even young ones!

If it was serious, I’d bring him around, Honey replied. You know how much I work.

Uh-huh, Sugar replied, eying her. Does he have any money?

Nope. He’s in rehab, Honey lied. He’s trying to get himself together.

The waiter brought her mother’s food. Honey knew she would have to pay for her mom’s meal. While she had ordered a salad before her mother arrived, her mother ordered the fried seafood platter with a side order of hot wings without even looking at the menu, or asking her daughter if she had money enough to pay for their lunch. Honey watched as Sugar quickly dug into her meal.

Shit, Honey, Sugar snapped, picking up a shrimp, and pointing it at her daughter. Why in the hell would you get involved with a loser like that? If I told you once, I told you a thousand times! Find a man with some money. Hell, then you could break me off a piece of that cheddar. You’ve put yourself through school and you have all the book sense but no common sense! A druggie is a loser! You’ll be taking care of him for sure. Haven’t I taught you anything!

I’m not taking care of him and I’m not going to, Honey insisted. The sex is good, OK? That’s all he’s good for. I don’t even let him stay at my place.

The one thing she knew her mother understood was sexual satisfaction. Her mother had started telling her about sex when she was just five. It had been a bit confusing at first, and even scary. Pictures of men’s sex organs, along with stories of their proclivities had been the lesson by age ten. By age fifteen, Honey had learned more than most fifteen-year olds; because her mother often told her the best defense was a good offense, and men preyed on girls who didn’t know what was going on. If her mother hadn’t loved men’s attention so much, she would have been scared and confused by all of the information Sugar had shared with her. Men on one hand sounded like monsters, yet she was mesmerized as she saw on many occasions how her mother handled them, controlled them without the men being aware of it.

That’s my girl, Sugar said nodding in agreement. I guess I can understand since the man must be packing. You had better be using condoms.

Always, Honey replied. She hated lying to her mother, but it was necessary right now to do so. She wasn’t ready for her to meet Gabriel.

Sugar sucked on the hot wing she had in her hand. Well, keep your options open. Don’t even let him think that it’s anything serious.

He doesn’t, Honey replied. We have an understanding.

Good, Sugar replied nodding. She stood up licking her fingers. I have an appointment for a mani-pedi. Can you loan me fifty dollars?

Honey opened her purse, because she’d been expecting her mother to ask her for money. Ma, this is my last fifty dollars. I don’t get paid for another week.

I’ll give it back, Sugar insisted. I’m meeting Rickey tonight. He’s loaded. Come by the house tomorrow and pick it up.

Alright. Honey sighed. I’ve got to return to work. She watched as her mother walked out of the restaurant and shook her head. She wished things could be different, but the thought of her mother meeting any man she became serious about sent chills throughout her body. She loved her mother, but she knew she was nothing like her. She was in love, and that alone would send her mother over the edge. Her mother used men and she didn’t trust them. She’d never been in love with one as far as Honey knew. Her mother wanted her to settle down, not for love but for money, and Honey knew she could never do that.

The man she was seeing now had more money than her mother could count. Honey could just imagine how her life would be if Sugar Jones found out about the man, she was really involved with. No, it was for the best for Sugar to continue to believe she was dating a man in rehab until she could figure out what she wanted to do. Caught between her mother’s wild escapades and her father and grandparent’s strict Christian values, Honey had decided to live with the ‘acceptable lies’ she had to tell in order to balance her life. She led her mother to believe while growing up that she hadn’t taken religion seriously, she really was a believer but this ‘acceptable lie’ kept her relationship in tact with her mother. Yet on the other hand, she had told her father and grandparent’s that she’d been sharing her beliefs with her mother when she returned home, when she really hadn’t been doing any such thing.

Honey had watched her mother hustle men all her life; all men except her father. Her mother was different around him. Her father was a sweet man, the son of a minister and a bit mentally challenged. They hadn’t loved each other, but they did like each other and for her mother, that said a lot. She had told Honey in no uncertain terms that if God had been real, she wouldn’t have had to suffer the loss of her own mother to cancer; nor would she have ended up on the street fending for herself. Honey hadn’t had an answer for her mother, so she’d keep her beliefs to herself.

Honey had been shown a different side of life when she was with her father and grandparents. She didn’t like the life her mother led, but she didn’t judge her. She liked the peacefulness of the library and the solace that books gave her. She liked attending church services. The family prayer time and meals, which had been something she didn’t do with her mother. She visited her father and his parents several times during the week and on weekends growing up, but she never knew when her mother would become pissed at them when she asked for money and they didn’t produce it. Her mother had thought she was a little weird for not wanting to party like other girls when she was a teenager, and kept saying she was a bookworm like her father.

Her father was the one who had comforted her when her mother would disappear for days because she was with some man. He always said that her mother was searching for something that she most likely would never find, and for Honey not to be