Franklin Dwyer looked at Jamal James Haywood, and smiled, for he couldn't believe what the six-foot-tall, handsome, athletic and well-dressed African-American businessman just said. The two men had known each other since their halcyon days at the University of Massachusetts in the City of Boston, and had been close friends for ages. In fact, unbeknownst to the world, they were much more than that...
For a while now, Franklin and Jamal had been carrying on a relationship, mostly behind closed doors. Secrecy was a must because both men had way too much to lose. As an active member of the conservative think tank New England Conservatives United For Change, Franklin had every reason to conceal his bisexuality. Even in liberal Massachusetts, certain things were best kept secret...
Franklin Dwyer understood this all too well. In certain lines of work, even though gay marriage was legal across the United States, a person's sexual orientation could prove to be a liability. In fact, Franklin's former wife, a southern belle named Meredith Cheryl Connors got a substantial stipend from him, plus joint custody of their son Kenneth, in their divorce settlement because she agreed to keep mum about his penchant for dark-skinned men...and women.
As for Jamal Taylor, the UMass-educated restaurant franchise owner, Black Chamber of Commerce vice president, devoted husband, church goer and father of three had much more to lose. As a scion of the African American community of Boston, it was in his best interest to hide from his wife Wendy and their three collegiate daughters Tiffany, Alexandra and Kimberly the fact that he was bisexual. That's why his words puzzled his buddy Franklin even more.
"I've decided to come clean to Wendy about us," Jamal repeated, and Franklin scratched his head and smiled politely, wondering if Jamal just lost his damn mind. Jamal nodded, and Franklin knew that it was foolish to try to dissuade him. The two men had known each other for two decades and Jamal's brutal honest and stubbornness were some of the things Franklin loved most about him.
A month ago, Jamal and Franklin went away to Vermont, supposedly for a business meeting that turned into a three-day trip. They stayed at a nice hotel, and for three days, they ate fantastic foods, roamed around lovely Montpelier, and fucked. A lot. It was just like old times. A shudder passed through Franklin as he thought of the fun and wicked things he and Jamal did in the bedroom. Good times indeed...
"Jamal, I respect your decision, but please, think of what we're both risking," Franklin pleaded, and Jamal shrugged, and gently laid his hand on top of his. The two men were sitting inside the food court at Copley Mall, in the heart of Boston. Franklin looked around the mall, and saw men and women of all hues walking around, going about their day.
Boston's racial diversity and vibrant culture always appealed to Franklin. So much that the Alabama-born Franklin decided to leave the south permanently and stay in Boston after graduating from university. Franklin was there when Deval Patrick got elected Governor of Massachusetts. A lot of people, both conservative and liberal, couldn't believe it when the quiet, soft-spoken African-American lawyer got elected governor but Franklin saw it coming and even broke party lines to support him. To Franklin, Boston represented the best that the United States of America had to offer.
"Don't worry, stud, it will be fine, Wendy is more open-minded than you think," Jamal said, and Franklin nodded, even though he didn't share Jamal's optimism. Franklin remembered the day he told his former wife Meredith Cheryl Connors that he was bisexual. The tall, red-haired and green-eyed southern belle whom he met one fine day in Mobile Alabama during the summer before his fourth year at UMass-Boston looked at him frostily, called him a faggot and slapped him.
"I hope you're right, take care of yourself, mon cher," Franklin said, and he and Jamal exchanged a hug, then Jamal departed. Franklin sat there, and looked at his plate of Chinese noodles, Cajun chicken and fried potatoes. His appetite was gone. Jamal headed for the escalator, and Franklin smiled. For Jamal cut an impressive figure in his black leather jacket, red silk shirt, black silk pants and black Timberland shoes. Always the snappy dresser, that one. Franklin could only hope things worked out...
Franklin thought about Jamal's wife Wendy Stefania Poulin-Haywood. The tall, curvy African-American gal was something else. Born in the City of Malden, Massachusetts, to a Jamaican immigrant father and a white American mother, Wendy was sultry and decadent. A diva in her own right and a woman of the world. Franklin and Jamal met Wendy while visiting Bay State College on Commonwealth Avenue, a long time ago. Jamal was smitten with the curvy, smart-mouthed biracial beauty and ended up marrying her.
Franklin and Wendy had always been polite and cordial with one another, but Franklin knew that his buddy's wife wasn't his biggest fan. Franklin's former wife Meredith never liked Wendy and the feeling was mutual. Meredith, a white woman born and raised in Alabama, from a real redneck family, had trouble understanding why her then-husband Franklin was so fond of the black couple that lived a few blocks away from them. One of the many, many reasons why Franklin eventually divorced the bitch...
