Other Side
Author
Ray Hollar-Gregory
Author Bio
Ray Hollar-Gregory, Esq. is a college professor, educated as an attorney, and has been a business executive He has published in academic journals and written many winning legal briefs and memos. This is his first novel.
Description
Other Side is a riveting psychological tale set in the New York City metropolitan area. The themes are viewed through the experiences of Jordan Baros a young middle class African American attorney. The title Other Side is an attempt to explore the duality of personality, character and actions of people. Jordan faces his conflicts and value propositions through four relationships that are juxtaposed and contradictory. His pursuit of validation and truth is explored through his mother, wife, mistress and a sex worker. The anecdotes from each encapsulate a broad perspective of political and social issues in a multicultural society. Jordan’s journey and the women’s stories of relationship struggle and maturation provide the platform for all the characters development.
Book excerpt
Introduction
Jordan Baros sought an honorable, purposeful existence. He followed his conscience, listened to his inner voices, rationally debated the conflicts, and applied intuition to his decisions. But he was aware of his frailties and did not always do the “right thing.” He acknowledged his commitments and personal needs and measured the outcome by levels of engagement and satisfaction. He managed risk with prudence until he didn’t. Jordan achieved career respect and made relationship choices. It was a complex set of small and large pieces, an interminable mosaic.
The responsibilities he met as a father and husband provided fond memories that spoke loudly: the boys playing together in the yard on a weatherworn swing set as he looked out from the kitchen window, family portraits hanging on the winding staircase wall and sitting on mantels over the numerous fireplaces, social and business dinners that built friendships and career, and the personal sacrifices he made—not for himself but for the good of his family.
In spite of Jordan’s diligence in meeting his obligations, he was conflicted. There was the other side. He sought validation in complex ways and found his impulses irresistible. He was driven and let consequential forces, including contradictions, paradoxes, and hypocrisy flow, each a part of his and everyone else’s riddle.
Chapter 1
My wife, Trina, was Ivy League–educated, with a degree in communications from Cornell. She had worked in public relations and media advertising until the birth of our boys, Jared and Chad. Call it melancholy, despair, or depression, but she had been unstable the past few years. Initially, her doctor had indicated postpartum depression, but our youngest was now five years old, and Trina’s behavior had persisted and worsened. She cried a lot and was quick to anger, and her nerves were on edge. Cooking burns, broken water glasses, forgetfulness, and disorder verging on hoarding were symptomatic of her stress level. Sex was infrequent, occurring somewhere between her not being interested and me not being too tired.
Don’t get me wrong—I love my wife. And unless you count flirting, fantasizing, or contemplating a parallel universe as cheating, I was innocent and had never crossed the loyalty threshold. Never can be ephemeral, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
One day about midweek in the late 1980s before cell phones and Internet, I returned to my office from a meeting and retrieved a message to call the emergency room of Mountain Hospital immediately. It had been raining since early the previous evening, and it was now just after midday. An ominous thought crossed through my mind because of the word immediately in the message. Had Trina done something unthinkable? Had something happened to Jared or Chad? I called the number and was told that Trina was in an auto accident, and I should go to the hospital.
I left work and headed to Penn Station to catch the train back to Jersey and go to the hospital. About an hour later, I walked into the hospital, approached the triage desk, and inquired about Trina Baros. The nurse took a moment to look up Trina’s information and directed me to the room where Trina was resting. I followed the directions down the hallway with its antiseptic scent until I reached her room. She was lying on her back, slightly propped up in a blue hospital gown. She had a neck brace, a gauze bandage around her forehead, and an elastic bandage on her left wrist and arm. She reacted with relief and subdued joy when I walked in. Before I could say anything, Trina started to apologize.
“I’m so sorry I was in an accident, and the car is in the shop…I don’t know how it happened.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you all right?”
Trina indicated that she had a slight concussion and had cut her head when she hit the steering wheel. They were going to take x-rays of the wrist to make sure there was no fracture, and her neck and shoulder hurt, but it was nothing serious.
“The police came and took all the information and towed the car to an auto body shop,” she said. I had recently purchased a BMW 5 Series, in addition to an SUV we owned.
“Don’t worry about the car. They’ll fix it, and we’ll get a rental until then,” I said.
I tried to comfort her as best I could and met with the attending physician to get the official diagnosis and plans for her discharge.
“I’d like to hold her for about forty-eight hours, as a precautionary measure. She took a pretty good hit to the head,” he said.
I agreed and returned to Trina to let her know what was happening.
“I can’t stay here,” she said.
“You have to. This could be serious. Plus, there’s nothing you can do at home. The kids will be fine for the next two days…they can stay with your mother for the two days.”
She didn’t feel good about the situation, but with no other choice, she agreed. I sensed that she was feeling mellow from the Valium the nurse had administered. After a couple of hours, I collected her clothes and promised to bring others and some personal items later.
“Okay, I’m going now…to get the boys situated and let everyone know you’re all right—not completely all right, but you’ll be fine in a few weeks.” I kissed Trina on the cheek and left the hospital.
I was concerned for Trina and knew the accident was a result of all that was happening in our life—her deferred career, my demanding one, and the stress of child-rearing. The next day, I sat in my office looking out at Central Park’s Sheep Meadow Bay, where just last year we had dinner in the office, covertly shared a bottle of wine, and watched Diana Ross’s concert in the park while listening to simulcast on WBLS. The fact that a thunderstorm disrupted the concert made the experience from the office that much more enjoyable.
The boys were staying with my in-laws. I called my friend Maria and told her I wanted to see her after work. She agreed and asked if I wanted something special for dinner.
“Surprise me but save room for dessert,” I said.
“I have something sweet for you,” Maria said with a teasing tone.
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