War.

by Shannon Dianne

  “You know,” Jasmine says as she walks into the office. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch, Jacob wouldn’t have to fuck me to take his mind off things.”

  Jesus.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” Winnie asks as she shoves her purse into Danielle’s hands and walks into the office.

  God, help us.

  “Jasmine, that’s out of line,” Jacob says as he heads over to Winnie.

  “Is it?” Jasmine asks. “Then tell me, why did you fuck me?”

  “Jasmine,” Red says and gives her a warning look.

  “Why, Jacob?” Jasmine ignores her. Jacob locks eyes with Jasmine as he stops at Winnie. He’s clenching his jaw, and narrowing his eyes, silently willing Jasmine to shut her mouth. “You know,” Jasmine says as she walks deeper into the office. “Jacob may have been under pressure a couple of months ago, which is why he chose to spill the beans about us, but I have no doubt that when the smoke clears, when everyone returns back to their normal lives, when you start dancing on bar tables again, when Marlon comes begging me back, when all this shit is but a distant memory, I have no doubt that Jacob will come back to me.” She forms a wicked smile. “I have no doubt that he’ll be right in front of me, back on his knees. Probably right in this very condo.”

  I run a hand over my face. Oh my God…

  “Come on, Winnie,” Jake says to her as he takes her by her arm. “Let’s just go, alright?” Winnie doesn’t budge.

  “Hmm,” Winnie says with a little smirk. “So, you’re a badass now? The language, this new air you have about you…is it because of that little cookbook you have coming out? The one Danielle pushed so you wouldn’t be left homeless? Since your husband sold your home, moved out and took your kids with him? Is this where all of this newfound spunk is coming from?” Winnie gives wicked smile of her own. “You wanna see Jacob down on his knees? In this very condo?” She turns to look at Jacob.

  “Winnie,” he says. “Come on. Let’s just leave, get the kids, go home and-”

  “Beg me,” Winnie says.

  Silence.

  Red slowly walks towards me.

  “Winnie,” Jake whispers. “Let’s just-”

  “Fucking beg me, Jacob,” Winnie says, her face firm.

  “Winnie…please,” Jake says, his head lowered, his eyes closed, his voice low but pleading.

  “Jasmine wants to see you on your fucking knees in this very condo.”

  “Winnie, please.”

  “So, I want you to do that for her.”

  “Winnie. Please,” he says, his head still down, his voice still low.

  “Beg. Me.”

  “Winnie…”

  “Now.”

  “Winnie.” He lifts his head; his jaw flexed, his eyes glassy, his voice louder.

  “Beg me. Now.”

  Silence.

  “Please,” he whispers as he locks eyes with her.

  “No. Get down on your fucking knees, right in this very condo and beg me.”

  “Jacob, come on,” Jasmine says. “Let’s just go.”

  “Jasmine…” Red says, a look of disbelief on her face. “You’re overstepping your boundaries.” Jasmine gives Red a sardonic grin. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you or who this new Jasmine is, but let’s not get it twisted-”

  “Red,” I say as I look down at her. She stares at Jasmine who continues to give her a little smile. What the hell has gotten into her?

  “She’s just anxious to see Jake on his knees,” Winnie says.

  “Winnie,” Jake says, his eyes still locked with hers.

  “Beg me. Get down on your goddamn knees and beg me,” Winnie says.

  “I’m sorry,” he offers instead, his voice repentant. Maybe Winnie will take this instead.

  “Get down on your fucking knees.” Or maybe not. Winnie and Jacob stare each other into silence, their breaths matching. I close my eyes and run a hand over my face. Damn Jake, just get down on your knees. Shit. I don’t know what else you can do. I open my eyes and look at the man who’s like a brother to me.

  And that’s when I see him do it.

  With eyes still locked with Winnie’s, he measures his breath evenly. Steadily. Slowly … slowly … slowly … he gets down on one knee. Lowering his eyes, he stares off into the space beyond her. He moves his other leg into position. And Jacob Blair gets on both knees before Gwyneth Yates. Shamelessly. Desperately.

  Wow…

  “Beg me,” she grits out, her eyes barely blinking as they watch him.

  “Please,” he says, his voice lower, deeper, his eyes still staring beyond her. Winnie lazily raises her eyes and rests them on Jasmine. You see that? I watch Jasmine clench her jaw, give a hard swallow and turn around on her heel. Within seconds, she’s out of the office. Winnie shifts her eyes back down to Jacob and I look at Red who has a warm smile on her face. She’s really proud of Jacob. I put both hands in the pocket of my coat as I turn around and walk towards the windows in the office to look out into the Boston night. I’ve gotta let my brother keep a shred of dignity.

  But now that I think about it, perhaps dignity isn’t the word for what Jake’s lost. After all, he isn’t just kneeling in front of some random ass woman. He’s kneeling in front of his woman. He’s been married to this woman twice already. He has four kids by her. When a man has this type of history with a woman, he doesn’t have his dignity to lose. Dignity is for the single. When you’re married, what you have is bravado. That’s what Jacob’s lost tonight. He’s lost his bravado. So, I continue to look out into the night sky. As a man, I’ll have the decency to look away.

  “Ready, Dan The Man?” I hear Winnie ask.

  “Sure am. See you at home, baby,” Danielle says to me. I turn and see Winnie and Red walking out of the office. Heels clicking down the hall as they leave.

  Jacob, his back turned me, his head down, is still on his knees.

  JASMINE

  “The verdict is in: Jasmine has lost her mind.” Rena says as she, Danielle and I take seats at the outside table on Danielle’s balcony, glasses of white wine in our hands.

  “And her going to The Bin didn’t confirm that?” Danielle asks before she takes a sip.

  “Shut up, Rena and Danielle. I was at my aunt and uncle’s perfecting my cookbook, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, is that what we’re going to tell people?” Rena asks.

  “If this wasn’t about business, your ass would still be outside of my front door, begging to come in,” Danielle says as she tosses me the final contract with my publishers. All signatures signed on the dotted line. Hell yeah! I sit back and take a breath.

  “Hey, you guys,” Rena says, “should I be concerned that my family and I are going to Colonial Williamsburg for Easter vacation? I mean, do black people go there? The whole town is a reenactment of the Revolutionary War days. There aren’t gonna be any of us swinging from the trees are there?”

  “Rena, where’s your new loft? Can I see if from here?” I look across the street.

  “Yep,” she turns around and looks towards her loft. “See that flag? Just count three to the right.”

  “Nice. Prime location.”

  “Four thousand square feet, two floors, open floor plan, right near tons of babysitters. I was sold. Both Matt’s and my family call us sellouts.”

  “Oh, tell them to hush. You two are thinking about location and comfort.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, Jasmine are you going to act like that scene didn’t happen an hour ago?” Danielle asks.

  “Oh, good. I thought I was the only one thinking that,” Rena says.

  “No, I recognize it happened. I just don’t give a shit anymore. Jacob wants his wife? Fine by me. Let him have the bitch.” I comb my fingers through my hair. “As for me, I have no kids and no man asking when I’ll be home. I have my own money. I’ll have my own place.” I take a sip of my wine. “Life is good.”

  “Jasmine, what in the hell is wrong w
ith you?” Rena asks. “Life isn’t good. Not for you.” She looks at me like I’m nuts.

  “Jasmine,” Danielle says, “Marlon and the kids are planning on going to Martha’s Vineyard for Easter Break. Why don’t you go with them?”

  “Highly improbable.”

  “Jasmine, Marlon is a wreck,” Rena say. “Do you hear me? A wreck. He’s struggling to keep it together in front of the girls. He’s asked your nanny to move in. He’s losing his mind.”

  “Did it to himself.” I take a sip of my wine and enjoy the cool night air. “Plus, the girls wrote me one time. One time. I mailed them one postcard a day. I give all three of them my entire life and they act like they can take me or leave me. I’m done with them.”

  “Okay, she has a problem,” Danielle says. “Jasmine, have you noticed that you have this insane ability to cut people off without a blink of an eye? Even the people you give birth to? Have you also noticed that you have a habit of running away from conflict? Kinda like last Christmas when one small issue between you and Marlon resulted in you going missing for three weeks and completely ignoring the needs of your daughters? And now, when you and Marlon have issues, you go missing for eight weeks? I can only assume it’s because you don’t know how to handle conflict.” She scoots closer to me in her chair. “Jasmine, when people are faced with conflict, their initial response is either fight or flight. Have you noticed that you always choose flight?”

  “And I guess you’re a fighter? You attacking Malcolm outside of a bar and on the way home is much better than me just walking away, right?”

  “In fact, it is. I beat Malcolm’s ass. I admit it. He and I are perfectly fine now.” She shrugs and looks to Rena for help. Rena shrugs and nods her head in approval.

  “Sounds about right,” Rena says.

  “Yeah, whatever,” I say. “You’re not better, just different.” I close my eyes and inhale the crisp air. Danielle and Malcolm’s condo is right in the heart of Beacon Hill. It’s an area surrounded by four and five-star restaurants, quaint coffee shops and bookstores that all seem to have a cat roaming around. Nice. I open my eyes. The area is thriving: it’s busy and full of cabs, laughing women in high heels, valets…

  And Marlon.

  He’s walking into his new building right now with the girls and their nanny, Gertrude, in tow. “There’s that son-of-a-bitch, right there,” I say as I point below us and then take a sip of wine.

  “Have you called him yet?” Danielle asks.

  “Nope.” I take another, longer sip of my wine. “My aunt called my parents, of course, and they’ve been calling me but I’ve been ignoring them.”

  “What?” Rena asks as she looks at Danielle. “Why?”

  I shrug. “Just not in the mood. Pour me some more wine.” I reach my glass out to Danielle.

  “Okay, you’re sounding nuts,” Danielle says as she pours. “You’re sounding possessed.”

  “Nope. Just done. Done with having to kiss people’s ass because I felt like I needed them. Done being nice to my parents and grandparents because they helped me with the girls during the day. Done being nice to Marlon’s parents because of the girls’ trust funds. Done being nice to Marlon because he was the one with the money. I’m just tired of it. I don’t need them anymore, so I don’t have to return their texts as soon as they send them, and I don’t have to answer their calls if I don’t want to.” I take a sip of my wine. I notice Danny and Rena looking at each other.

  “Jasmine, have you talked to Father Harper yet?” Danielle asks me.

  “No, I missed church today.” I take a sip of wine. “But I’ll get around to him next week. He isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Listen, I think that you and Marlon’s marriage can be salvaged,” Rena says.

  “I agree,” Danielle adds.

  “Danielle, please,” I say with a laugh, my wine spilling over the sides of my glass.

  “What? What’s the laugh for?”

  “When Jon was caught in that hotel room with Marla, you left him and immediately married Malcolm.”

  “Oh, so now we’re admitting that Jon was in that room with Marla? Because I can remember a time when you would fight me to the death on that fact.”

  “Yeah, well, things change.” I take a sip of my wine.

  “That was different,” Rena says. “Right, Danielle?” She looks at Danielle with a hopeful gaze but Danielle is looking slightly indifferent. “Because Jon and Danielle were having problems before that. You and Marlon were fine. From what Matt tells me, I think all Marlon needs it a little brooding and begging. And, quite frankly, Jasmine, you can’t blame Marlon if that’s what he needs. Don’t you agree, Danielle?”

  “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Danielle says, “because I’m all for Jasmine and Marlon’s reconciliation, but even though I would have stayed with Jon through bad times, it was the cheating that was the final straw.”

  “See,” I say to Rena. “Why beg a man to come back when chances are, he has no intentions of doing so? People rarely get over cheating.”

  “But, if I may add my bit of wisdom,” Rena says, “I believe that Danielle would have stayed with Jon had he been good in bed. Good dick is hard to find these days.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Very scarce.”

  “Jon wasn’t good in bed?” I ask Danielle with a smile. “You’ve never really mentioned how Jon was in the sack.”

  “Was Jon good in bed?” Danielle repeats the question, takes a sip of her wine and slowly swallows it while closing her eyes. “You do know that good sex is just a matter of perspective, right?” she says to us as she opens her eyes.

  “Bullshit,” Rena says. “Good dick is good dick no matter what perspective I’m riding it from.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s a matter of perspective. For me, Jon was…adequate. He likes to eat so he always did that pretty well.”

  “Jon likes to eat?” Rena says in surprise before laughing.

  “He does,” Danielle says proudly. “But the actual sex. Eh. I think what was a downer for me is that he never liked to get fully undressed. He always had something on. Whether it was a t-shirt or socks or sometimes even his boxers. He was never completely naked. I’m the type of person who likes skin-to-skin contact. I have to have body-on-body action. So, that part was always lacking. There just wasn’t a deep level of intimacy between us. No sensuality, no fun. No random laughs as he licked me somewhere and it tickled. I would never randomly bite his bottom lip after an exceptionally rousing performance that led to an orgasm. There was no licking his neck when he was sweaty and hot because Jon never had sex to the point of producing sweat. Sweat is gross to him. There were no moments when I would trail the scent of his cologne from his chest to his adam’s apple. No moments when I would lay on his chest and tickle his scrotum and see him tense up and laugh. So, no, the sex wasn’t good enough for me to stay. And even though the eating part was positively fantastic, I never felt comfortable placing my hands on his head and closing my eyes as he spread my legs wide. I was never in the moment because I was never into the man. So, no, when I found out about Marla, I left his ass.”

  “Last week,” Rena says excitedly, “Matt and I were–”

  “Oh God.”

  “Shut up, Danielle. We were–”

  “Yoo-hoo! Ladies!” a voice calls out. Rena, Danielle and I turn to see Marla walking onto the balcony in a floral dress that properly accentuates her curves (didn’t I see that dress at Neiman’s?); a pair of heels that don’t show her toes through the front (don’t I have those shoes? Jimmy Choos?); a pair of small, discreet gold hoop earrings (where are the ones that makes noise every time she turns her head?); light pink nail polish on her real nails (what happened to the ones that resemble claws?); and her own hair. It’s actually thick, dark brown and hangs just below her shoulders.

  “You like nice,” Rena says in disbelief.

  “What in the hell?” Danielle says as she turns completely around in her chair to look at Marla. “Wh
at in the hell is going on with everybody these days?”

  Marla giggles. “Thank you, I just left an exhibit at the museum and decided to stop by to see Nicky, Roman and that pretty little redhead of yours,” she says to Danielle.

  “Nicky and Roman are asleep,” Danielle says as she continues to eye The New Marla.

  “I know, Malcolm just told me.” She purses her lips up into a sexy pout. Really? “I stayed late to help Bryan clean up.” She gives a small smile to Danielle who gives her a wink back. “You are a mess, Dan.” She shakes her head.

  “So I’m told.”

  “Malcolm says he’ll get Sunny since it’s time for her to wake up from her nap anyway. Ooh! Wine.” Marla leans into the kitchen and grabs a wine glass off of the counter. “I can’t stay long, I have to be at the museum at eight tomorrow morning.” She heads towards us with her empty wine glass and Rena kicks me under the table. Ever since Jon cheated on Danielle with Marla at my wedding, Rena has never cared for her. “So what are we talking about tonight?”

  “The best sex we ever had,” Danielle says with a smile.

  “Oh darling,” Marla fans herself while pouring a glass of wine. “Where do I begin?”

  “From the beginning,” Rena says. She wants to hear Marla’s take on Jon.

  “You’re walking into a trap, Marla,” Danielle warns her.

  “Well, let’s see, the best sex I ever had,” Marla says, ignoring Danielle. “I feel comfortable saying this because Dan and I are so close now.” Rena looks at Danielle, confused. Danielle simply smiles back at her. “But the best sex I’ve ever had was with Jon.” She bats her lashes as she sits down at the table.

  “Really?” Rena says. “Do tell.”

  “Well, first off, Jon is so focused.” She narrows her eyes for emphasis. “When he sets out to please you, that’s all he has in mind. There’s no time for games or playing around. He has a job to do and that job is to make you orgasm as quickly as he can. Then there’s his eagerness. Sometimes, he looked at me in my little nightie and he could barely get out of all of his clothing. So most nights he still had on a t-shirt or even his boxers! He was so excited. That always made me feel good.” She bats her lashes again. “And then there’s the oral sex. There’s no man dead or alive that can eat you like Jon St. James. Talk about the greatest that ever lived. I also like that he’s so slow and steady. He’s so in control. He can give you a piece of himself effortlessly; he barely breaks a sweat. He’s just that good. So yeah, if you ask me, I’d say hands down, Jon is the best lover there was, is, and ever will be. There has been no man born that can match Jon St. James in bed.”