After the Dance: My Life With Marvin Gaye Read Online Free Page A

my top. Mom smiled with pride. The men were fixated.
    The warm water felt good on my skin. I splashed around for several minutes, wondering if the men were going to join me. I worried that they would grope me. The thought disgusted me. Much to my relief, they were content to smoke, coke, and watch me swim around. At some point Mom and Big Jack got up and went into the house. When I decided to get out of the pool, Luke was there to hand me a large towel. I quickly wrapped it around my waist. Luke motioned for me to relax in a lounge chair next to him. Nervously I sat. A moment or two later Luke leaned in toward me. I noticed that his toupee was tilting to one side, making him look ludicrous. He reached out and took my hand. With his index finger, he gently but insistently rubbed my palm. This was the first time I had been given this signal. Any doubts I might have had about the meaning were dispelled as he moved toward me and pressed his lips against mine. The sensation of his tongue in my mouth was repulsive. I immediately withdrew and, still wrapped tight in the towel, got up from the chair and returned to the cabana, where I showered off the chlorine and changed into my clothes.
    Mom was back poolside with Big Jack.
    “Let’s go,” I whispered to my mother.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I just wanna go,” I insisted.
    “Luke’s about to put some steaks on the grill.”
    “I don’t care. I wanna go.”
    Seeing that I was dead serious, Mom told the guys that her daughter wasn’t feeling well. They tried their best to convince us to stay, but I was insistent. We left.
    No words were spoken on the drive home. The radio news reported that President Nixon was pledging to end the war in Vietnam. Muhammad Ali was cleared of draft dodging. Mom switched stations. Marvin Gaye was singing “Inner City Blues.”
    “Makes me wanna holler,” he sang, “throw up both my hands.”
    The gentle groove helped me deal with the mess of emotions causing my head to throb.
    Although the words he sang—“panic is spreading, God knows where we’re heading”—were alarming, I was comforted by his voice. His voice eased my pain.

Mushrooms in the Desert
    A t seventeen, I was obsessed with a single question after meeting Marvin in the studio: Will he call me?
    My desire to be ushered back into Marvin’s magical world was fueled by my unhappiness at home. Since leaving Ruth’s three years earlier, I had watched my mother struggle with sanity. Mom’s breakdown was precipitated by Earl’s infidelity.
    It happened when I was fifteen and, on the spur of the moment, Mom hustled me into the car.
    “Where are we going to, Mom?”
    “Renee’s.”
    Renee was Mom’s best friend.
    “What’s happening at Renee’s?” I asked.
    “Maybe I’m crazy, but something tells me she’s up to something.”
    Earl’s yellow car was in Renee’s driveway. That’s all Mom needed to see. She raced back home and threw Earl’s clothes out on the street. Less than a year later, Renee gave birth to Earl’s child.
    That was the year Mom retreated into inconsolable depression. Her only comfort came from her dog, Daisy, with whom she became obsessed. She could not stand to be without Daisy for a single second and lavished far more affection on the animal than she did on me, who, at the start of high school, had matured physically. Boys flocked to me, but they were just that—boys. I sought something more. When my teachers praised my intelligence, I began to understand that was the quality I sought in the opposite sex. When another teacher praised my sensitivity, I realized that was the very thing these boys lacked.
    I made friends with some of the boys in the Fairfax High crowd, the Jackson brothers—Jackie, Jermaine, and Tito—and a few of their future wives. I also knew Veronica Porsche, who would later marry Muhammad Ali.
    That was when I was fifteen.
    At seventeen, the day after meeting Marvin, I was waiting for my phone to ring.
    A million thoughts