by Anna J.
“Tanya, I’ll follow you guys. I hope you have a VCR at your house. We’ll need it.”
The three of us left the restaurant and hastily went to my car. I couldn’t wait to get this shit out in the open . . . finally. A half hour later we pulled up to a beautiful house in Wyncote, a suburb of Philly. The neighborhood was so quiet I felt that if I breathed too loudly everyone would hear me. We got out of the car and headed toward a stunning peach and cream house that sat so far back off the street you had to drive up to get to the door.
“Tanya, your house is beautiful,” I exclaimed. I had never in my life seen a community so tranquil. This could definitely be a place to raise my son.
“Thanks to Monica. It was her hard-earned money that paid for it.”
Something told me there was more behind that statement, but I didn’t question it. I knew we were about to get into some heavy shit and all would be discussed in a matter of time.
The inside of her home was just as impeccable as the outside. Tasteful furnishings peppered the sunken-in living room, and several pieces of art adorned the buttercream walls. The paintings I guessed were gifts from Monica because I recognized her in a few of them.
We went straight to the back of the house and down a few steps to an entertainment room. There was a television the size of my damn apartment in there, and every gadget you could think of. Shaneka pushed a button, and an entire wall moved to the side and revealed a beautiful entertainment system. She pushed a few more buttons, and the VCR came from behind a shelf and positioned itself in front of the television, ready to accept the tape. I dug through my bag and nervously gave the tape to Shaneka. She and Tanya sat on the couch. I sat in the chair.
You could cut the tension in the room with a knife as we patiently waited for the tape to rewind and start. I took one last deep breath as I watched the tape begin to play.
I had never watched the tape, besides the parts that Monica had shown me, and I had no idea what I had missed. The tape opened with James and Monica in what appeared to be a hotel room. She had him blindfolded and tied to the bed, his dick standing straight up in the air like a thick, black pole. She rode him in positions I didn’t even know were possible. I found myself getting a little turned on by their actions, but I quickly checked myself. That wasn’t what I was there for.
The first segment of the tape ended with Monica balancing her hands on his stomach, and stretching her legs out like a gymnast would on a balance beam. She then proceeded to push her body up and down with her arms, riding his dick until his ejaculation slid down the sides of his dick. The camera was zoomed in so close you could see his dick pulsate as his seed spilled from the head and into Monica’s eagerly awaiting womanhood. I was amazed at her skill.
A scene with her, Jazz, and James followed. James was leaning against a dresser in a different hotel room stroking his dick while Monica and Jazz performed on the bed. Jazz looked a little hesitant at first, but after some coaching, she got into it. As the tape played I went from being amazed, to being upset, to not believing what the hell I was watching.
She had the mayor of Washington, DC in all kinds of compromising positions. That shit turned the hell out of my stomach, because he was a fat, nasty bastard with a big bulbous nose, and even bigger body cavity. He reminded me a lot of the character Fat Bastard from that Austin Powers movie. Still, she was all over him like he was Denzel Washington. I had to turn my head from the television when she began stroking his ass with a strap-on dildo like he was the woman and she was the man. Tanya and Shaneka just sat there with their mouths wide open, not knowing what to say.
A couple of scenes went by with people I didn’t recognize, and a few more of Jazz and James. My sister’s husband, Hill, popped up with a quick episode by the fireplace and a few other guys from the police force who I recognized from last year’s Christmas party were acting a fool on camera too. Monica must have a camera set up in every room of her house. I just sat there in awe, not believing what I saw.
I almost lost my lunch when I saw Monica and Stenton on the tape. She had him handcuffed to the bed in the doggy-style position, blind folded, and dressed in a maid’s outfit giving it to him from the back. I had to close my eyes and cover my ears so I wouldn’t be able to hear the sounds from the television. I couldn’t believe I saw my boss in a position like that, and all the women that come and go from his office is shocking.
After the tape was done, Shaneka got up and started pushing buttons on one of the many remotes that lay on the front case of the entertainment center. After about five minutes, two tapes popped out. She gave me one, and labeled the other before putting it away in a drawer by the bookcase. I knew at that moment that she had made a copy for herself, and I briefly wondered if I had done the right thing.
I waited for them to get situated, because that was truly a lot to take in at one time. We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. I briefly flashed through my life over the past five years wondering why I always ended up in situations like this. The sound of Tanya’s voice interrupted my trip down memory lane as I came back to deal with the situation at hand.
“Sheila, I just want to thank you for stepping forward with this matter. Knowing how Monica is, that took a lot of courage on your part, and I want you to know that as of this moment you have no need to fear her again. Trust me on that.”
“I want to get my life back. I can’t live like this, constantly looking over my shoulders, wondering if she’s going to jump out of the damn bushes on me.”
“Listen, when I first met Monica I fell for the bullshit, too. She was sexing me crazy and had me thinking that we could truly be together. Even after she killed my husband I knew she would be there for me, but she never came.”
Tanya went on to tell me how her husband, Marcus, had been a loving and devoted man to her and her son. He was an excellent father and a wonderful provider, but when he got drunk, another side of him presented itself. He became extra abusive, even putting her in the hospital with broken bones on a couple of occasions. He was the provider, and she was the caregiver, so she stayed home to raise their son, although she always had dreams of opening her own restaurant. Marcus had promised to one day let her have her own business.
Monica became impatient, not letting Tanya handle the breakup her way. On the night Tanya was supposed to leave Marcus, he had been out drinking. The situation turned violent when he saw Tanya and their son’s stuff packed by the door. Tanya had told Monica she would drive over to her house, but Monica took it upon herself to come and get Tanya. Monica walked in at the moment when Marcus was about to hit Tanya again. Monica tried to protect Tanya, and when Marcus turned to swing at her she pulled a gun out and unloaded it into his face. Monica fled the scene, promising Tanya she wouldn’t have to do any time if she took the rap. And like a fool, Tanya copped to the murder, spending a little over three years in jail.
“She looked possessed when she was pulling the trigger. Like she went back in time to another point in her life or something,” Tanya said with a spaced-out look on her face.
We all talked for a little while, and then Shaneka brought it all together so it made sense. We had to get Monica back, but we would wait for the baby to be born. That way, we wouldn’t be imprisoned for harming a fetus and we could just handle our shit and not have to worry about an unborn child.
“That sounds like a good plan, Shaneka, but what do we do right now?”
“Now we go to see James and Jasmine. They need to know what kind of shit they were pulled into. Revenge should be sweet, and I’m sure they’d want a piece of it too.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I honestly think all they want is to move on and put their lives back together. I don’t think they would want in on it.” I tried to persuade them to think otherwise, simply because I wasn’t ready to face Jazz and James again, but it was apparent they weren’t trying to hear that.
“Let’s at least show them the tape,” Shaneka argued back. It wasn’t until she t
old me about her beef with Monica and Rico that I understood what she was trying to do.
“OK, you guys can follow behind me. We might as well go and get it over with.”
During the drive over I tried to envision how it would all go down. I mean, I was a lover, not a fighter, and I didn’t know if Jasmine could take seeing me twice in one day. I was on that tape giving her husband head. I didn’t exactly sleep with him, but that was damn close. I knew if it was me, I’d be ready to go on a head-smashing spree. On the flip side, I think she needed to know. James was wrong, there was no doubt about that, but even Jazz knew how persuasive Monica could be.
When we got there I let Tanya ring the bell. If Jazz was going to swing, I didn’t want it to be on me. I knew she was going through a tough time, especially being pregnant. What were they going to do with another kid, and with Monica possibly carrying James’s child? I didn’t want to be there when that shit went down. When Jazz opened the door her face let us know she didn’t feel like the nonsense. I stayed in the back behind Shaneka while Tanya explained our reason for being there.
“What tape are you talking about? Where did you get it from?” Jasmine had yet to open the door fully. I didn’t see James’s car, so I figured she would be apprehensive about letting us inside because she was home alone, but the last thing I would allow was for her to come to any harm.
“I took it from Monica’s house the night she was taken to the hospital for a miscarriage,” I explained to Jazz. “I just wanted to have some proof of what she was doing.”
Jazz looked at us like we were crazy, but she eventually let us in. The place looked different. I didn’t know how I would react to seeing her again, but I was glad she gave us this time to talk. Once we were all seated, I mustered up enough courage to finally say something to her.
“Jazz, I know you don’t necessarily want to hear anything I have to tell you, but after you watch this tape, maybe we can discuss some things.”
“Sheila, you know you hurt me the most. I understand that we weren’t close, but damn, you set me up in the worst way, and in my eyes that’s unforgivable.”
“It wasn’t even my idea. I was trying to talk Monica out of it. She wouldn’t hear anything I had to say.”
“That’s funny, because she blamed it all on you when she came here.”
“Did she? Well, since when could her word be taken as the truth? She’s a manipulator. She’ll say whatever she needs to say to get you off her back.”
“As true as that may be, it doesn’t excuse you. You knew what was going down, that’s why none of your shit was on your desk when you left for the day. I knew something was up, but I didn’t expect to come home to your raggedy ass on my kitchen table.”
“Look, we’re not here for all that. Y’all can rehash the past once we’re gone. I just need you to look at this tape,” Tanya explained.
Both of us looked at Tanya like she was crazy. I said nothing after that. Jazz got up, snatched the tape out of my hands, and popped it in the VCR. I just sat back and watched her face as she watched Monica in action. There was going to be some shit when it was over. I could feel it. I knew Tanya, Shaneka, and I were planning to get Monica back once she had her baby, and we planned to discuss how once Jazz finished watching the tape. All hell was about to break loose, and for the first time in my life, I couldn’t wait.
Tanya
Playing Catch Up: Through Tanya’s Eyes
Seeing Monica on that tape brought back so many memories. At the time we were together I was in love with her, and I couldn’t see how mentally sick she was. I, too, was caught up in her web of lies and deceit, and for a brief time in my life I wanted to believe I was in love with her. She presented a stability that I couldn’t get at home, and I craved to live life on the other side of the fence. I soon found out that the grass wasn’t as green as I thought it was.
I met her at an art demonstration down at CCP (the Community College of Philadelphia) during fashion week. She had a few pieces on display, and I was in awe of the detail displayed in her work. Before I knew the woman in the picture, I was intrigued. Her eyes drew you into the painting, having you believe that she could see into your soul, taking the breath out of your lungs.
I was standing there in a trance staring at a painting of her lying on a chaise lounge the color of fall leaves. The fireplace strategically placed off in the corner of the painting looked lifelike. Her use of colors was impeccable. I must have zoned out because I didn’t realize she was standing next to me until she spoke. Her voice sounded like a rushing waterfall. I was hooked from day one.
“My living room used to look like that just last year, but I went with a new color scheme for the New Year.”
I turned toward the direction of the voice, surprised to see her face to face. She looked almost angelic . . . almost. There was a hint of mystery behind her eyes I couldn’t figure out at the time, but now I know it was nothing but the damn devil. If I knew then what I know now.
“So, you’re the artist? It is truly a pleasure meeting you. I must tell you that your work is absolutely wonderful. I’ll be purchasing this one for my living room,” I said to her while shaking her hand. The skin of her palm felt like silk, and I could only imagine how her hands would feel on the rest of me.
“Thank you so much. I appreciate the patronage.” She blushed, looking away for a brief moment before resuming eye contact. I smiled to myself and turned my attention back to the painting on the wall.
“Listen, what are you doing after the demonstration? There’s a café down the street, a few doors away. Maybe we can chat over an espresso,” Monica invited.
“That would be nice. I’ll meet you at the entrance when it’s all done.”
“That’s fine, and don’t worry about paying for this painting. I’ll be sure that you get it before you go.”
“You don’t have to do that. This painting costs five thousand dollars. I can’t let you pay for that.”
“Did you forget I painted it? It wouldn’t cost me anything,” she replied with a cute laugh that made me follow suit. I burned her smile into my memory at that moment.
“OK, I’ll meet you at the door.”
She said nothing. She walked away and began mingling with the other guests. I made my way to the door to avoid the crowd that was sure to come. There had to be nothing but ballers in here, because these painting were a grip, but all of the money made went to The Sanctuary, an organization that extended their hand to teenage girls who had been molested. It was a good cause that brought out plenty of supporters with big bucks. I saw the mayor of D.C. and his family there, as well as a few other bigwigs in political positions, and many members of the police force.
I wasn’t waiting long before I saw her making her way through the crowd. We had yet to exchange names, so I couldn’t call out to her. I waved my hands in the air until she saw me. Her smile blessed my eyes once again.
“You ready?” she asked as she pushed her way through the door.
“Yep, let’s get out of here.”
We made light conversation on our way down to the café, and once we got inside we grabbed a table by the door. After our orders were placed, we were finally able to converse, exchanging names before we moved along in line.
She told me all about her life as an artist/photographer, and I actually remembered seeing some of the covers she did for Essence, Sister2Sister, and Vibe magazines. I wanted to ask her why she started The Sanctuary, but it was obvious she had been hurt coming up so there wasn’t any need to go there.
I told her about my job as head chef at The French Quarters, and my dream of one day owning my own restaurant. My husband wouldn’t allow me to work after our son was born, and I became a stay-at-home mom, but I didn’t think she needed to know all of that. I let her know I was married, choosing to be up front about my status. It was obvious she was trying to get to know me on a personal level. I was open to all the possibilities.
“This is my son, Tyler, and my hu
sband, Marcus.” I showed her a picture in my wallet from the days when we were a happy family.
When Marcus and I first got together he knew I was into women, and he was all for it as long as I brought them home so we could share. I figured we could do the same with Monica, but I didn’t find out until much later from a friend of mine that Marcus already knew Monica before I did. That was the reason he purchased the ticket to the art demonstration. It was all a setup to get us together on his terms. I was the only one who didn’t know about it.
Giving it to her straight, no chaser, I told her what my husband and I were into and that I thought she would be perfect for an evening of adult pleasure. She agreed, but only after I agreed to meet with her one-on-one beforehand. She said she didn’t mind sharing me with my husband, but she wanted to see what I was about first. We set a date to meet the next night.
I knew Marcus wouldn’t go for that, so I told him I would be out with a few girlfriends and I needed him to watch the baby. Of course he objected, stating that if I got to go out why couldn’t he? It wasn’t until I told him I’d see about bringing a woman home that he agreed.
I called the number Monica gave me and we set a time. I was to be at her house by eight that night and I was pulling up at seven fifty, eagerly knocking on her door. My breath was taken away upon walking into her house. I loved how she mixed various shades of pink to make up the décor. She later revealed that she furnished, painted, and set up every room in the house herself.
We walked straight upstairs to a gorgeous bedroom. We didn’t waste time on formalities or anything like that. I knew why I was there, so we needed to make it happen. This girl could do things with her tongue that you would never believe unless you had a Monica experience yourself. I thought I was Spider-Woman, and it was obvious that Monica thought she was Spider-Woman, too, because every wall I climbed, she climbed up right behind me, never taking her tongue from my clit.
