Any Way the Wind Blows by E. Lynn Harris Read Free Book Online Page A

button, Derrick said, “And Madison is doing fine, too.”
    • • •
    W hen I got home to New York, I’d planned to just relax my first night back, and get reacquainted with Windsor. Instead, I walked into an Adams family reunion.
    “Yancey! Welcome home. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
    “I’ve been busy and I wanted to surprise you,” I said. Well, I
was
the one who was surprised. I loved Windsor, but what were all these people doing in my house? There was an older man who looked vaguely familiar sitting in the livingroom watching
Wheel of Fortune
, and some crazy-looking older woman, with a bop in the step of her transparent orange-and-purple swirled heels, was bouncing around like she owned the place.
    “Oh, Yancey! This is my family. You remember my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Adams, and this is my aunt, Toukie Wells, and my beloved fiancé, Wardell. Everyone, this is Yancey Harrington Braxton, now known as Yancey B!”
    Windsor’s family all said hello in one voice, which sounded like a choir warming up. Windsor’s parents had attended my engagement party. Wardell, the man Windsor was always talking about, was a little older than I thought he’d be, but as long as he was good to Windsor it didn’t matter to me. For a moment I thought I might have to find myself an older man, but then I remembered Malik and decided quickly I didn’t want to do that show again.
    Over the next hour, while Windsor was putting the finishing touches on her meal, I learned about the Adams family, Aunt Toukie and Wardell. Windsor’s parents were from Detroit, having migrated from Columbus, Georgia. Her father was old enough to retire but still drove a city bus. Windsor’s mother worked at a nursing home, and Aunt Toukie, who I learned had a fondness for tight clothes and Cadillacs, was a retired elementary school teacher and was the reason Windsor had decided to teach.
    Dr. Wardell Pope was a widower and father of two grown daughters. He taught sociology at the University of South Carolina. He’d met Windsor when he was a visiting professor at New York University and Windsor had audited his class. Now he was back teaching in Columbia and hadproposed to Windsor right before he left. I was enjoying the chatter of the older people talking about things back in “the day,” but eventually the questions turned to me.
    “So, Yancey B, how much rent do you pay to live here?” Windsor’s aunt asked me.
    “Toukie! You know you ain’t supposed to ask questions like that!” Windsor’s mother said.
    I ignored Miss Toukie’s question and said, “What’s that scent you’re wearing?”
    “It’s my new perfume. My first since Youth Dew!” Miss Toukie said proudly as she patted the side of her hair.
    “And we’re all thankful you switched scents,” Windsor’s mother teased.
    “What’s it called, Miss Toukie?” I asked.
    “Call me Aunt Toukie, baby. My scent is called Zandria by Anthony Mark Hankins.”
    “Oh, I know who he is. He made a dress for me once.” It was actually my engagement dress, but they didn’t need to know all that.
    “So Yancey, Windsor said you used to be in plays. Have you seen the musical play
One Monkey Don’t Stop No Show?”
Aunt Toukie asked.
    “No, I don’t think so. Was it on Broadway?” I was trying to be polite; I knew she was talking about those bus-and-truck shows making money off black folks who didn’t know better.
    “How would I know that, since I ain’t never been to Broadway? It was playing at the Fisher in Detroit. That girl who used to play Thelma on
Good Times
and all the Winans except CeCe and Bebe,” Aunt Toukie said as she sat down at the table and kicked off her shoes.
    “How many times did you see that show, Toukie?” Windsor’s mother asked.
    “Oh, ’bout four or five. It was
so
good. What about
Why Don’t Mama Sing?
You seen that?” Aunt Toukie asked.
    “Was that at the Fisher also?” Windsor asked.
    “No, I saw that in Flint. My church group took