Free Homecoming Weekend by Curtis Bunn Page A

Bad eating habits. She was around my age, twenty-six or twenty-seven, and we looked a lot alike. People used to ask if we were sisters. Twins. We looked that much alike—in the face and in size.
    â€œYou might think I’m crazy, but when I went to her funeral, I stood over her lying there and I saw myself in that casket. I know my mind was playing tricks on me, but that was the moment for me. It was like that was the message I needed to get myself together. Then Heavy D died a few weeks later. I was like, their deaths will not be in vain, at least in how I live my life.”
    â€œI’m proud of you,” Mary said.
    â€œMe, too,” Tranise added. “It really is a lifestyle choice. So, keep it going. We want you around for when we have our ten-year reunion.”
    â€œI want to be there more than you want me there,” Charlene said, laughing.
    Just then, the server came over with three glasses of champagne.
    â€œWe didn’t order that,” Mary said.
    â€œI know. The gentleman in the black and gold jacket did. He said, ‘Happy Homecoming,’” the server explained.
    The women all looked over at the Alpha with grateful smiles. He smiled, nodded his head and lifted his drink. They raised their glasses and had a long distance toast.
    â€œMiss,” Tranise said to the server, “did he say what his name is?”
    â€œHe didn’t,” she said.
    â€œNow we really have to find out who this guy is,” Tranise said.
    â€œI’d like to know who he is for sure,” Charlene said. “He’s handsome.”
    â€œHe is,” Mary said. “And a gentleman.”
    â€œAnd he isn’t pushy,” Tranise added. “I like his style. I just wish we knew who the hell he is.”
    They all laughed. But his chivalrous act sparked conversation about the most popular subject of all: men.
    â€œSo, Tranise, you talking about Brandon Barksdale, who is married—what about what you have going in Atlanta?” Charlene said. “I heard about the men in Atlanta. Is it true?”
    â€œIs what true?” Tranise asked. “That there are a lot of gay men in Atlanta? Well, yes. I can’t lie. I’ve seen a lot of it, to the point where sometimes I’m almost depressed about it.
    â€œBut the reality is that they have to live their lives as they see fit. I don’t begrudge them that. Where I have a problem is when they’re on the down low, trying to talk to me and at the same time they have a butt buddy.”
    The women laughed.
    â€œI know,” Mary said. “What’s going on? I don’t even recall any obviously gay guys when we were in school. But apparently they waited to graduate, move to Atlanta and bust out.”
    â€œWe’re laughing, but it’s really not funny,” Tranise said. “I meet guys in Atlanta now and I examine them like I never did before. I look at all their mannerisms. If I see any broke wrists, I’m gone. I pay attention to their language; I hear words like ‘fierce,’ I’m gone. The crazy part is that you never know. And, again, that’s what disturbs me. Don’t get married, have kids, meet heterosexual women . . . knowing you like men. That’s just wrong.”
    â€œSo you aren’t seeing anybody down there?” Mary asked.
    â€œNo, not really,” Tranise answered.
    â€œNo wonder you talking about getting with married-ass Brandon,” Charlene cracked.
    â€œCan’t even lie—it’s been too long,” Tranise said. “If he acts right, I just might break my streak.”
    â€œAnd how long is this streak?” Mary asked.
    â€œWell, let me see . . . ”
    â€œDamn, it’s been that long that you have to think that hard?” Charlene said.
    â€œActually, you won’t believe this, but my last was Michael Jennings,” Tranise revealed.
    â€œNo way,” Mary said. “You were with