My Woman His Wife Saga

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My Woman His Wife Saga Page 33

by Anna J.


  “Damn, bitch. You like inch high private eye up in this joint. What the hell do you need with that many TVs?”

  “You’ll see in a minute. Just let me rewind this tape.”

  We sat in silence as I began to rewind the tape. Yolanda fed the baby in the process. After the tape stopped, I pushed play and fast-forwarded through the day.

  At around five, Carlos and two of his men came in snooping around my spot in search of something. I saw them take a tape out of the VCR after they watched it for a while. Carlos stuck the tape in his top pocket, and they searched around a little more before they left. I never turned the alarm on, but I clearly saw him pull keys out his pocket from the camera I had set up at my door. The tag looked like it came from Sean’s shop. I made a mental note to go see him.

  After they left, Tanya and the woman I met up at the prison showed up and started tearing up the place. Watching that woman in my son’s room and seeing what she did burned me up inside, but I held it down. It didn’t make sense to be mad now. Later on in the tape I saw the cops come in. Some of them pocketed my money and jewels. I shook my head in disgust at what was playing out in front of me. Hell, if you couldn’t count on the law to have your back, then who could you count on?

  Taking the tape from the VCR, I gathered all of my son’s clothes into plastic bags, leaving everything I owned minus a few pairs of underclothes and some jeans. There would be a for sale sign out front tomorrow. I would hire someone to come and clean up this mess. Hill was right, I was done with this town.

  I stayed with my sister for the time being, giving her a couple thousand for the inconvenience. Carlos acted innocent when he came around, and I told Yoyo not to worry about saying anything to him, just get him for all she could before we left. Within a month’s time the house was cleaned out, and all of the damage restored. I left the mural up in the nursery, but painted the rest of the house neutral colors to satisfy the buyer. I was practically giving the house away, so it didn’t take any time to get it off the market.

  On our last day in Yolanda’s apartment I sat alone and contemplated my life. I had to honestly admit to myself that I had caused a lot of the drama, but was I really that bad? Furthermore, did my son deserve to grow up without a fair chance? It didn’t take me long to decide, I knew what I had to do.

  “Come on, Yolanda. We have a plane to catch, but I have to make one stop first.”

  “Monica, do you have to do this? Things will be better once we leave here.”

  “Yoyo, I’ve already made up my mind. Now let’s go. We have to have the cars over there two hours before lift off, and you know how long the lines get.” I took one last look at my sister’s apartment, the place I had called home for the last two months. We would be making a new home in Atlanta, Georgia and I couldn’t wait to get there. I had worn Philly out, and there would never be another like me around these parts for a long time.

  I took in the city on my ride across town, burning certain landmarks into my mind. I was sad to go, but I knew I had to. There was nothing left here for me except for Jasmine and I had an ace in the hole that I was sure would end her relationship with James if things panned out as I suspected. I had to start over. I deserved a second chance at life and the baby deserved a fair chance at life, and that was what I was determined to provide, all while I waited to reel Jasmine in.

  James

  The Aftermath

  I heard one of the twins crying, so I decided to let Jazz sleep in, and I tended to them myself. Jaden had been having nightmares lately, so I knew it would be a while before I went back to sleep.

  As I was coming down the steps I thought I heard someone in my kitchen, and I ran to see what was what. It was three o’clock in the morning, and no one should be downstairs but me. Dashing through the dining room I almost slipped on the hardwood floor as I came to a screeching halt. On my dining room table was a baby in a car seat.

  I tiptoed toward the baby, not sure why I was scared. It was only a baby, not a bomb. As I got a closer look, I realized this wasn’t just any baby, it was Monica’s. I briefly wondered how she got in, but then I saw the note and the house key sitting on the table behind the car seat. Not really knowing what to do, I quickly got the twins a drink before grabbing Monica’s child and making my way back upstairs. I made sure the twins drank their water and put them to sleep before I took Monica’s baby in to Jazz.

  I walked in the room quietly and took the baby out of the car seat. After grabbing the note I sat down on the bed to gather my thoughts. I looked at the baby for a while, then decided to wake up Jazz. She would know what to do.

  “Baby, wake up. I need you to see this.”

  “See what, James? I gotta get up in a few hours.”

  “I know, baby, but this can’t wait until the morning.”

  When Jazz turned over and opened her eyes, her entire face showed shock. “James, how the . . . where did . . .”

  “She left this note.”

  Jazz continued to stare at James, Jr. before she began reading the letter out loud. I sat in silence and listened to what Monica had to say.

  Jasmine and James,

  I know this comes at an awkward moment, but I had no choice. What am I going to do with a baby? For the last two months I tried to be a good mother, but I can’t. I fear I’ll be just like my mother, and I don’t want to take my child through that. I knew if I brought my child to you that he would be where he belonged—with his family.

  Jazz, if you don’t believe anything else I tell you, believe that I loved you with all my heart. I thought if I had James’s baby we could be one. Now I realize it would have never worked. Know that you will always be my woman, but you’re James’s wife, and I’m cool with that. James, it wasn’t all in vain, sweetie. You served your purpose. Take care of your family the way you have been, and know that you will not get any trouble from me in the future.

  I gave up total custody of Junior to you and Jazz, and you’ll find all of the paperwork in the boxes in your living room. I also returned the house key so you won’t have to worry. It’s been real. Stay blessed.

  Monica

  P.S. Jasmine, sweetie, don’t you think now more than ever is the time to come clean about your little secret rendezvous with the twin brothers from Bally’s gym? I mean, word on the street is that they both fucked you in the same bed you and James sleep in! Talk about trifling. At least I had the decency to fuck your husband on the kitchen table and not in the same bed that the two of you sleep on. But to each his own. I think that if you truly love James that you owe it to him to at least tell him the truth. And the truth is you’re probably not even pregnant with his kid right now. You know in your heart what I am saying is right. And if I’m wrong then I’m wrong but if I’m right . . . Well . . . James you know about blood tests, so when Jazz delivers why don’t you take a blood test to see if what I am saying is wrong? What do you have to lose?

  Jazz and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes. I had tears and Jazz had a look of shock in her eyes more than anything else. I walked over to the window in silence, not sure what to think or say but for some sick strange reason I could sense that Monica had actually won in her vindictive selfish war she was waging on the marriage that we were desperately trying to save.

  I looked out the window in time to see Monica looking up at me from across the street. Our eyes met briefly before she got into her car and slowly drove away. I didn’t know how to feel at that moment. Because although Monica was driving away, I knew that it was only symbolic. She would resurface and I had a deep intuition that when and if she resurfaced that Jazz and I probably wouldn’t be together anymore . . .

  Monica L. Tyler

  I’m rich in love. I’m rich in peace. I’m rich in hope. I’m rich indeed. I’m read y. This is my time. All that I hope for is mine. It’s mine, it’s mine . . .

  I never thought I would leave Philly, but that just goes to show how life can change when you least expect it. Yolanda wasted no time meeting t
he abundance of men the ATL had to offer. I got her a condo not far from mine so I could keep an eye on her. She was grown, but if I knew Yoyo, she’d be in trouble in no time, and someone had to bail her out, right?

  As for me, I was taking it one day at a time. I will say that the first year here I missed my son so much that on a few occasions I packed a bag and was almost on the first thing smoking back to Philly to get him. Each time I got close to the airport or train station I turned my car around at the last minute. I had caused enough pain in James’s and Jasmine’s lives. I knew my son was in good hands, so there wasn’t any need to interrupt a good thing. One day, maybe, we’d meet. I just wondered if I’d recognize him. Would he hate me forever?

  It was almost six o’clock. I could finish this painting later. I had an appointment with my therapist and couldn’t be late. Dr. Washington has helped me so much since I’ve been here, and it doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes either. But, I’m behaving myself and not going there.

  I just wished for the best for my baby, James, and Jasmine. Hopefully, I would continue on with the therapy and if so I knew that I would be all right.

  Plus I had bigger fish to fry. After my appointment I had a date with a certain Philadelphia Eagle who was in town for the weekend, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

  I said I wasn’t going back to Philly. I didn’t say Philly couldn’t come to me . . .

  Jasmine D. Cinque

  I look in the mirror and so much has changed. Ever since I had the babies, I just don’t feel the same. Every day I’m working or nursing, not sleeping or eating. And my love life is slipping and I feel to blame....

  It seemed like overnight my family grew from four to seven. I’ve been shocked before, but not like I was when Monica left her child and that fucking note! How do you walk away from your own? But then again, who was I to judge her? I needed to be asking myself how could I continue to mislead James into thinking those babies were his?

  Nothing is promised to you. You could be a wife today, divorced tomorrow. Your mother could leave and your family could disown you, but your children belonged to you forever. At first, I was against Monica’s baby being with us, and told James to take the baby to the police, but then I realized that it wasn’t just Monica’s baby, it was also James’s baby, and the second I laid eyes on him I knew he’d be a soft spot in my heart forever. Apparently Monica and her judge friends worked all of the kinks out, because once we signed the papers, James, Jr. was officially our son.

  Monica never contacted us, and although we didn’t need her money, a check for three thousand dollars came like clockwork every month. Some of it we used to buy him stuff, but most went toward his college fund. I guess that was pretty decent of Monica. After all, she did drop her child off on us.

  Not too long after that Janice and Jordan made an entrance into the world, and we’d just been one big, “sometimes” happy, family since then. I’m seeing a therapist because I am determined not to let this depression get the best of me. James has been wonderful through it all, and I couldn’t ask for a better husband.

  Thank God he never actually pressured me into taking a paternity test. He apparently believed me when I simply dismissed Monica’s words in the note as a boldfaced, cunning lie on her part. It tore me up inside to know that she was more than likely right. I reasoned that if I unconditionally loved and accepted the baby that James had fathered with Monica, then that would clear my conscience and it would serve as more than enough reason to have James forever believe that the new set of twins were his, and therefore, he would have no choice but to unconditionally love and nurture the lives of the two new babies . . .

  James D. Cinque

  And if there’s anything I can do, let me know. I promise you I’ll get it done, my pleasure. ’Cause I don’t wanna see you struggling no more . . .

  Life lessons. Some are easier to swallow than others, but all are worthwhile. If I had it to do all over again I’m sure there are things I’d do differently. In some respects, I’m glad I made the mistakes when I did. I’ve learned that the power of God is irreplaceable, and no matter how many times you fall, he’ll take you back. He’s forgiving, and always has his eye on you. I’ve also learned that vows of marriage are not to be taken lightly, and I cherish every day my wife and I have together. It’s not every day you find your soul mate, and Jasmine is that in every aspect.

  I felt bad when Jasmine suggested we take Junior to the police, especially when I didn’t request a paternity test to see if what Monica was saying was indeed true. I’m a man, and I take care of mine. I started going through the baby’s things and I found instructions from Monica to contact a guy named Judge Stenton and he would take care of everything. Soon after that, the newest additions to our family arrived. Sheila, surprisingly, helped us. She set Jasmine up with a wonderful therapist to help her with post-partum depression. She’s doing better every day.

  I’m steadily climbing the corporate ladder. I keep running into this fly honey from marketing on the elevator, but every time I think of dipping out, I think of Monica, and my ass is right back in place. I have a loving wife, wonderful kids, and a great job. Who could ask for anything more?

  Jasmine Cinque

  (Four Years Later)

  All I asked James to do was pick up the kids from the afterschool program. I mean, how hard was it to take responsibility for your own damn kids? It made no sense to me that I was called out of a business meeting because it was after six and no one had gone to claim my children yet. I say my children because it’d been years since James acted like they were ours. How embarrassing is that? This wasn’t the first time this had happened either. Another reason why I was so irritated right now. You could mess with me all you wanted, but do not jeopardize my job or the safety of my children. It would quickly become a sticky situation for the accused.

  What worked me the most was that I had to make two stops. Monica’s son was a bit of a problem child so I had him in an entirely separate program from Jalil, Jaden, Janice, and Jordan. That meant I had to go get my kids first, and then go and get James’s son. Now, I know that sounds harsh, but I really don’t give a damn. I refused to take any claim to that boy. He belonged to James and Monica. The rest of these kids were mine.

  To make matters worse, it was pouring down rain like we were in the middle of a tsunami, so visibility was down to practically nothing. It was a cold January night, and I hated driving in these types of conditions. When I got to Junior’s program the instructor threatened once again to kick him out because he refused to just follow directions from either him or any of the aides who worked there. I wanted to snatch his ass up right quick and check him, but I told James that Junior would be his responsibility, and I was standing by it.

  Every time I saw his face in the rearview mirror I wanted to pull over and choke the shit out of him. He looked so much like Monica, and he had her “I don’t care” attitude as well. Why didn’t she take her bastard son with her? I thought if enough time had gone by I could grow to love him like my own, but I just couldn’t feed into the lie. He was conceived by my husband and birthed by a woman I’d once loved . . . still did. I hated myself for missing her, but my heart did what it wanted to do, so what could I do about it?

  I hated the fact that I could still picture so vividly everything we’d done sexually. I’d given up on James a long time ago, so all I had was memories of Monica during quick masturbation sessions when I finally got some alone time. Hell, I had five kids to raise, so any “me time” I might have had in the past was a done deal now. I was okay with that sacrifice years ago when I was hype about being married and starting a new life. Now, I wished I would have just stayed the single whore I was. Life was much simpler then. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids, but I didn’t sign up to be a single parent. That just wasn’t a part of the deal. Now I had James to thank for this bitter-ass attitude. Thanks, James!

  I’m not even going to go in on Monica’s trifling ass. She got to li
ve a carefree life doing whatever, wherever she lived, and I didn’t even get to sleep in late on a Saturday morning because I had responsibilities. Then she had the nerve to send us checks like we needed them. Now, I’ll be truthful and say that I had no problem cashing the checks she sent monthly like clockwork for her son because that money got me a new Benz that I drove when weather permitted and Jalil and Jaden a new wardrobe. If she thought I was using it for him then shame on her simple ass for leaving him here. I didn’t want her son feeling anywhere near comfortable at my house so he got to wear hand-me-down clothes that Jordan could no longer fit into or I no longer wanted him to have, and if you had a problem with that you could feel free to come get him. I’d have his shit packed by the door ready for your arrival.

  Time certainly did fly, though. With Jalil and Jaden being the oldest at eight years old, I had some help with my four-year-old twins and Monica’s four-year-old, but there was only so much they could do. I refused to bog them down and burden them with the responsibility of taking care of a child at their age when all they wanted to do was have fun and be kids themselves. Janice and Jordan didn’t know that Junior had a different mom, and it was really hard to tell considering they all looked like James. I mean, Junior had a lot of Monica in his features, but those were definitely James’s kids. Where as the other kids looked like a combination of me and James, it was clear that Junior had a different mother. There was no denying it. So, I just left that bit of information on a need-to-know basis.

 

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