by Alex Bailey
Didn’t Jasmine say that if Gloria had disposed of her embryos, it would be a sin? Then how could she speak so flippantly about having an abortion?
Jasmine’s eyes and shoulders drooped, “When I returned home for winter break, things were different. I found Edmundo with another girl. He said he missed me so much, he couldn’t take it. And when I insisted he break up with her, he did. He never saw her again. I didn’t like it, but I understood my man’s needs. My dad had many affairs and my mom had explained when I was a little girl, that’s just how men are.”
Ann had a hard time with Jasmine’s whitewashing of men’s affairs. She wanted to shake the woman and tell her to wake up! But instead, she shifted uncomfortably and stuck her nose back in her afghan.
“But it made me realize how much I wanted him just for myself. I transferred to a school closer to home the next semester, so he could come see me on weekends. It was only a five-hour drive and if he left after work on Friday, he could get there usually by eleven. He told his parents he wanted off every other weekend, and since he had a sister who was old enough to help them with their business, they relented.”
“On the weekends that he didn’t come up, I sowed my wild oats like he had done while I was away in Europe. He never knew. He was so stupid and trusting; he never would have questioned my loyalty to him. And when he was there, I was loyal. It was just that I really couldn’t miss out on the whole college experience thing waiting for him to come up every other weekend, now could I?”
Ann wondered if Jasmine was really looking for an answer to that question, or if she was asking herself. So far, Ann wasn’t impressed with her story. If this was her life, wouldn’t she want to leave out the parts that made her look like so callous? Why would she want to tell people she was unfaithful because her boyfriend had a relationship while she was out of the country? She hoped her son Ralph was tucked away in a room playing video games, and not hearing one disgusting word coming from his mother’s mouth. Ann didn’t get it, but so far, she wished Jasmine would just quickly get to the end.
“Well, I eventually graduated and moved back home. I had no intention of getting a job so I just sort of hung out at the pool that summer. Edmundo worked a lot helping his family. That fall, his dad died. Bad case of food poisoning. Edmundo had to take on more and more work to help his mom. They got Maria, his oldest sister to help out too. But that took more time away from us. From me.” She cocked her head to one side, “And I became little miss grumpy-pants.
“My parents started to notice my mood. When I told them I’d been dating Ed, and he had to work a lot, my mom cried hysterically. My dad had never raised his voice as far as I can recall. But that day he shouted things at me. Things like, he didn’t work his fingers to the bone to provide for me just to throw it all away on some scum on the wrong side of the tracks. Well, that didn’t help my mood any.
“Edmundo was feeling the pressure from me and his mom but in the end of course, I won. We eloped one weekend in July and didn’t come back for a week. He had taken everything out of his savings for a ring and a honeymoon and we blew it all. When I got back home, my parents threatened to take me out of their will. Well, actually Dad said he’d already done it.
“Edmundo and I moved in with his mom and sisters and he worked all the time. The business was booming because his mom was such a good cook and she was teaching Edmundo everything she knew about cooking. He was becoming quite the master cook himself. That’s one thing I can appreciate…good food. I can’t cook at all. I wouldn’t even attempt. That’s why I appreciate your cookies so much, Ann.”
Ann looked up momentarily from her knitting and smiled but didn’t comment. She didn’t want to prolong this story any longer than she had to. She just as quickly returned to working on her afghan, while Jasmine continued.
“Eventually, Edmundo made enough money for us to get our own apartment; then we bought a house on the water. It was nice, not what I was used to growing up, but it wasn’t too shabby. A step up from his mom’s house, that’s for sure. And we didn’t have a million relatives climbing all over us like at his mom’s either.
“Soon after, my parents came around, especially since they saw everything was working out just fine. I think they were trying to scare him off, but Edmundo would not be deterred. I talked my parents into throwing us a belated wedding. Naturally, they went all out. There were Swarovski crystal chandeliers at the reception and bling everywhere. Edmundo was very impressed, and so was everyone who attended. I, of course, looked amazing.”
Ann didn’t want to incur Freda’s wrath, so she held her tongue, but she certainly wanted to gag, or perhaps, just gag Jasmine.
“When Ralph turned three, Dad took me aside and said he’d written me back into the will. I was thrilled, but Edmundo was beyond that. I’d never seen him so excited in his life. I suppose he figured he would never make as much money as my dad had and the thought of coming into a sizable sum of money, kind of went to his head.”
Ann wondered why Jasmine skipped straight past the part of the story about Ralph being born.
“Since my dad convinced Edmundo that he was accepted and now part of the family, Edmundo became very involved with my parents. He spent time with them and helped fix things around the manor, worked on their fleet of cars, and made them fabulous gourmet meals. He loved being there and I loved it because I got a built-in babysitter. Mom doted on her grandson like she had done to me growing up. But still doted on me too, of course. Dad had an enormous play set installed on the grounds of his estate with a tire swing, a tree fort, and submarine. Ralph would squeal with just the mention of going to Grandma and Papa’s house. Those were the best days of my life. Everything was working out beautifully. Everyone got along and we were all so happy.”
Jasmine paused, then shifted in her chair, “Sadly, my parents didn’t live to see Ralph’s fourth birthday. One day they were coming to our house for a visit—which was rare, they didn’t like to venture out to see us and really there was no need when they were the ones with ample space. They were…” Jasmine wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and sat up straight in her seat, “they were killed in a car accident.”
Ann’s attention was the only one on Jasmine. She thought about her own parents. How sad it would have been if her twins hadn’t known their grandparents growing up. She smiled, thinking about the post card she’d recently received from them on their trip, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. As Ann glanced around at the heads hung low, she wondered why no one was giving Jasmine much attention; she agreed Jasmine was rather conceited and boastful, but didn’t they have sympathy for her sad news, or were they simply immune to a story they’d heard before? Ann felt her own head slowly hang as she continued with her knitting.
“I think it hit Ralph the most. He has some vivid memories of them, even though he was so young. He’s never quite gotten over the loss,” she said, glancing toward the stairs leading to where her son was playing video games. “He’s still quite withdrawn to this day.
“But we moved on. And up. Edmundo wanted to move into my parents’ home immediately after the accident. I loved that place, it was my childhood home, but the memories were too fresh. But he insisted. He gave our home to his mom and three sisters, Maria, Juanita, and Gabriella, and we packed our things and moved into my parent’s estate.
“That place changed Ed. He’d always been so hard working and had loved his catering job. His mom had promised it to him when she passed. He was proud of what his family had built, but once we moved, he quit. He let his relatives pick up the slack for losing him. He walked around the house all day, just waltzing from room to room.” Jasmine breathed in deeply.
“And Ed changed in other ways too. He sold all my dad’s cars; said they weren’t his style, and then started collecting his own cars. He said he needed them for his new image. He built a seven-car garage just so he could have a different car for each day of the week. He loved this one particular Jaguar he saw at a car show and bid on it, he bid
up the price by at least double what it was worth, just because he could. It was an investment, he said.
“He started inviting over this crowd of people, some he knew; some were just brought by others. Lots of women. And this crowd was not a group I wanted near my son. There was booze and drugs, and they played the worst music. And when I asked him who was singing, he’d mock me and say in a nasty tone, The Who?” Jasmine sighed.
Dona snickered, but didn’t interrupt.
“We argued. A lot. I retreated to my bedroom when he had his…” Jasmine said nastily with her fingers in air-quotes, “little affairs. He paid more attention to them than to me.
“When the probate was over, and the money was ours, Edmundo wanted to share it with people. I had no problem helping his relatives. But then he decided he wanted to help a few others. Like some of the women friends he was having over for these parties. I found cancelled checks all over the place for fifty grand, thirty grand, receipts for jewelry and even apartment rental receipts.”
Jasmine sounded bitter and Ann couldn’t blame her. “When I confronted him, he denied everything. Said I didn’t know what I was talking about and even so, he could do whatever he wanted, it was his money too.
“Funny thing was, we didn’t live in a community property state and the entire estate, including the house, money, property, and businesses were all left to me and Ralph. So, I cut him off. I went to the probate lawyer and asked him to take Ed’s name off of every account. He would have to come to me for every dime, that way I could get a handle on what he was spending. But it never happened.
“As soon as he found out what I was up to, he started plotting against me. I overheard a conversation one day, when he thought Ralph and I had gone to visit his mom and sisters at our old house. We hadn’t left yet, but he didn’t know that. I heard him on the phone with…one of his floozies, I suppose. They were planning to burn the house down with Ralph and me in it to get the insurance money.”
Jasmine squinted and spoke very directly, “Thank God his plan was thwarted. The next day he was found dead in his Jaguar. Apparently, asphyxiation. I suppose he had been working on his beloved car late that night with the doors closed and who knows—maybe he was checking the engine or something…” Jasmine took another deep breath and held it for a moment.
“It was really rough on Ralph, losing his dad so close to losing his grandparents. We needed to get away from the whole place. That’s when I saw this magnificent estate over in Worchestershiretown and fell in love with it and decided that’s where we would go to start our new life. And here we are.”
All heads bobbed up slowly as Ann looked around the room to see expressionless faces. She couldn’t figure out their bizarre reaction to this woman’s tragic life story. And what was up with another woman losing her husband? She started to wonder if anyone had a living husband in this group.
“Okay, see you next week,” Freda announced and abruptly stood, dismissing the group.
Chapter 13
Ben stuck his head into Ann and Helga’s office, “Ann, can I see you in my office for a sec?”
“Sure.” She scooted her chair away from the desk, then glanced at Helga.
“I’m fine Suga.” Helga nodded, her large half-moon earrings bounced to and fro. “When the boss calls, ya gotta run, especially when Aquarius is on the back side of the moon.”
Ann followed Ben into his tiny cramped office filled with papers piled everywhere. She cleared off a chair but didn’t know where to set the stack of papers, so she handed them to Ben. “Perhaps my next assignment should be to organize this mess.”
“Don’t you dare, Ann Jones! That’s the surest way to get fired around here. I don’t want anyone touching my organized chaos,” Ben was grinning but looked deadly serious. “I can’t stand to not be able to find what I need. Everything has its place and its place is exactly where I want it to be. But, feel free to file anything else you can find, as long as it’s not in here.” He set the papers on the floor, then propped his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair.
“I hear you,” Ann said, “but who knows, maybe I’ll catch you in a moment of weakness, and you’ll let me clean this up.”
Ben frowned. “Believe it or not, this is clean to me.”
“I’d hate to see your house if this is clean,” she frowned
“Speaking of which, I was wondering what you were doing this weekend.”
“You need me to work overtime already?”
“Let’s just say…I won’t make you clean anything.”
The silly grin on his face frustrated Ann. Why couldn’t he just come out and ask her to work the weekend? Why did he have to talk in circles and act so immature? “What is it Ben? Do you secretly want me to clean up in here? Promise I won’t say a word. Or do you need me to drive a car to Boston or something? What do you need?”
“Ah, hell no, nothing like that. I’m trying to get a date lined up for the weekend, Ann.” He pointed to his mouth, “Did you not see this bashfully handsome smile trying to woo you? I’m not such a great cook, but I do know some nice places.” Ben cocked his head sideways without changing his expression.
“What? I thought you wanted me to work.” Ann was irritated. She was willing to work if he needed her, but this? It was annoying. “I can’t date you. You’re the boss. That wouldn’t be appropriate. What would the other employees think?” She let that last line slip before she thought about what she was saying.
Ben shook his head and gave her a quizzical look. “Are you serious? The other employees are my blood relatives. Do you really think they’d give a f—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” she said, holding her palm in front of him. “But still. I don’t feel comfortable dating the boss.” Besides, she didn’t feel like dating anyone. She was just getting used to being her own person and having her own life, no strings attached. She was making friends and had a job, why would she want to mess it up by dating her boss. Sure, Ben was gorgeous, but so had been her husband; and look where that got her.
He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“My cell number,” he said, hopefully. “Call me anytime. And I do mean…anytime.”
Ann had no intention of using the piece of paper and rose to leave, but sat back down when Ben said, “Oh and one more thing.” He swung his feet to the floor.
She wondered what he was going to pull next.
“I’m changing your hours. I don’t need you as long on Wednesdays, so you’re free after noon.”
Ann glared at him, “Dona’s behind this, isn’t she?” Dona had said at their last meeting she was going to talk to Ben.
He turned his chair sideways, picked up a piece of paper, and pretended to read it. “What are you talking about? I just don’t need as much help on Wednesday afternoons.”
“You’re lying, Ben Jallopenson.” Ann stood to leave.
“And how do you know that?” he peeked up over the paper.
“Because you’re reading the horoscope that Helga printed out for you. Upside down!”
Ben threw the paper onto the desk with the rest of his chaos. “You’re right. Dona called me this morning. But it’s no problem; I’ve got a golf club meeting on Wednesday nights, so I get that you have a life outside of this job. And you have a duty to take your heavenly dough balls or whatever Dona rambled on about to your little basket weaving club.”
“They’re the cookies we had at the tavern the other day,” Ann corrected him and crossed her arms. “And yes, they are just like heavenly balls of fried dough.”
“Hmmm, I don’t quite recall what they taste like,” Ben teased. “Maybe I need another sample.”
Furious that Dona had interfered in her life, she clenched her jaw and said sarcastically, “Maybe I’ll just bring some in to spark your memory. On Thursday. Since I have Wednesdays off now. I have plenty of time to bake!” She turned her flushed face toward the door.
“Who
a now! I didn’t say you could take off the whole day on Wednesdays, what’re you thinking? I’m trying to run a business here, lady. You can leave at noon.” He opened his palms. “Or whatever time it takes you to make those concoctions.”
“Noon’s fine,” Ann stomped off, determined to show him!
* * * * *
The weekend started out a drizzly, dreary, mess. As she sat at her kitchen table, sipping a large cup of freshly-brewed coffee, Ann was bored waiting for the rain to stop. She decided to put her culinary skills to work and opened her recipe box. She searched for a recipe to bake something for her favorite canine.
She hadn’t made Honey’s favorite biscuits since Christmas, so she searched for the recipe. Ann had discovered the recipe amongst her grandmother’s cookbooks when she died but didn’t think her grandmother had ever used it. She couldn’t recall her grandmother ever having a dog. Her grandmother had been the quintessential cat lover. Though she did recall that her grandfather once complained that her grandmother’s cookies tasted like beef-flavored death biscuits.
When Ann found the recipe, she felt that somehow Honey knew what she was up to, and was ever so grateful. Her spaniel didn’t leave her side while she gathered the ingredients.
Ann spent the day rolling and cutting Honey’s biscuits with an assortment of cutters. She made them in various shapes: cats, fire hydrants, breasts—once used for her friend, Alex’s baby shower, and even traditional dog bone shapes. Honey never cared what shape they were, she simply gobbled them up.
When Ann finished baking the final batch, she set the biscuits out to air-dry. She gave Honey a few to sample, just to make sure they were tasty. Honey licked her lips afterward and rubbed her body against Ann’s leg.
