by Zuri Day
“You’re being as stubborn as a mule,” she’d replied as she shifted Langston from one hip to the other. “We just lost everything.”
“But we have our lives and our sons,” he said, and he held Jon’s hand.
“Where will our sons sleep tonight, Diego?”
He’d lifted Jon, who had started to cry, into his arms. “Don’t worry about it, I will make sure we’re taken care of.”
“I know you will, Diego. But who will take care of you? Certainly not your employer.”
He’d given Jon a tight hug, and whispered, “Don’t cry, son,” in his boy’s ear. Jon had looked up at his father and when Diego smiled at him, he’d known things were going to be all right.
“Diego, it’s Christmas. Maybe this was God’s message to bring the family together.”
“No!” he’d exclaimed in Spanish. “My mother has denied my family because she doesn’t like your skin color. I won’t have her mistreating my sons. It’s as if she has forgotten how hard it was for my father’s people to accept her.”
“So,” she’d replied in Spanish. “This isn’t about her, this is about our sons. Do you want us to sleep on these soggy streets?”
“Let’s go,” he said with a sigh. It had been as if Diego knew going to his mother’s home in Havana would cause more harm than good. Jon had trembled in his father’s arms as he felt Diego’s heartbeat speed up.
Luckily, the beat-up truck that the family had been using hadn’t gotten flooded. His mama had called it a blessing and another sign that it was time for the family to make amends with each other. Jon hadn’t understood what that meant, but his father’s anger was clear. When they’d arrived at the massive house, Jon had been in awe. It looked like a castle from one of the storybooks his mother read to him and Langston.
He’d wondered if the people who lived here were like the witches, queens, and kings in the stories. Jon knew he’d have a palace like this one day. His mother would be the queen and his dad wouldn’t have to cut sugar cane anymore. Smiling as they approached the door, Jon had decided that he couldn’t wait to meet his grandmother, who had to be the queen of Cuba. They stood at the front door, Jon with baited breath, and waited for someone to open the door.
After a few moments, a slender man, dressed in a black and white uniform, had opened the door.
“Mr. Diego,” he’d said with a toothy smile. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, Randall.” Diego had took a step forward. Randall placed his hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“What?”
“Mistress said she’s not taking visitors today.”
“Tell my mother I’m not a visitor, I’m her son!”
Randall had glanced at Diego and his family; he pursed his lips and leaned in to Diego. “She said you’re welcome. But I can’t allow—”
Diego had pushed past the older man and stormed inside with his family in tow. “Mother!” he’d screamed. “Why don’t you come down here and tell your grandsons why you’ve never met them!”
Rena had grabbed her husband’s arm. “Don’t do this. I’m sorry that I suggested this.”
“No, I want her to face the only family she has left.”
It had seemed as if hours had passed before Eva Terez walked down the spiral staircase. The sun had beamed off her four-karat diamond earrings and surrounded her in what looked like an angelic glow. Jon had hoped to hug the grandmother he’d never met.
“What are you doing here, son?” she’d asked in a clipped tone. “And why have you brought that woman?”
“My wife?”
“I thought we agreed that she was not welcome here?”
Diego had taken a step toward his mother and shook his head in midstride as he stopped. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the storm.”
“Tragic. So much loss,” she’d replied.
“We lost our home and the boys’ Christmas was destroyed.”
She’d folded her arms across her chest; her face seemed as hard as a stone. Jon had been sure that she was one of the evil creatures from those fanciful tales his mother read to him at night. She was no queen, he’d decided. “That’s terrible, but what do you expect me to do about God’s will?”
“You heartless—” Rena brought her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Diego. This was a horrible idea.”
“Marrying you was a horrible idea. Soiling our bloodline with your kind. . . .”
“That’s enough, Mother!” Diego yelled. “Let’s not forget that you weren’t Granny’s first choice for Dad. With your dark skin and nappy hair. No matter how many chemicals you’ve used, that African blood is still in your veins.”
She’d touched her face and sighed. “But I am Cuban!”
A red tinge of anger had crept up the back of Diego’s neck. “Basura!”
She’d crossed over to him and slapped Diego. “How dare you? Get out and take them with you.”
“I will and I hope that you remember this day when you’re alone and dying in this house. You threw your family away.” Diego and his family stormed out of the house, never looking back.
Lola wrapped her arms around Jon. “You’ve never told me this before,” she said. “Why?”
Jon shrugged. “The holidays were never important to me, until you came along. Maybe that’s why I didn’t get why you were so upset about the parties and . . .”
“Christmas has always been different for me,” Lola said. “It was all about me and Nona.”
“Your grandmother?”
She nodded and smiled with a far-off look in her eyes. “No matter what was going on, right after Thanksgiving, Nona and I would go get a tree and start decorating. I loved the twinkling lights, but she wanted our lights to mimic the classic grace of Biltmore. When she had the money for it, we’d have two trees. A small one with all the crazy lights that I loved and the big one that Nona would make look like Biltmore. But she would put all of the gifts under my little tree.”
“That explains why we have so many trees in the house,” Jon replied with a throaty laugh.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to have a family Christmas with you. Like in the old days,” she said quietly. “But you made it a business meeting.”
Jon held her hand. “When my father died and we left Cuba, my mother spent every holiday working. It was her job to make sure someone else’s kids had a Merry Christmas, and Langston and I got leftovers. Until I met you, Christmas was just another day.”
“Obviously, it still is,” she said.
“I have a business and you were there with me from the ground up. Why are you upset about my success?”
She thumped his arm. “To have my husband back and paying attention to me, I’d rather be back in Orlando on the ground floor again. All of this doesn’t matter to me! This is pointless, Jon.”
“No, it’s not. And I’m going to prove it to you.”
“What are you going to do? Buy me something else I don’t want?”
Chapter 5
Jon didn’t respond to Lola as he knocked on the window, alerting the driver that they were ready. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been parked at the airport and he needed to check the flight plan.
“Where are we going?” she asked after a few moments of silence.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “I hate it when you do that.”
“When I do what?” he asked as he reached into his pocket.
“This distracted ordering! I asked a question and the least you could do is answer it until moving on to your next order of business. Jon, if we’re working things out, you need to put in a little more effort.”
“All right,” he said, focusing his stare on his wife’s face. She was pissed. She had a right to be, but he had a bone to pick with her, too. “Babe, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” she asked, smirking at him.
“Whatever I did to you,
” he said. “But don’t you think you owe me an apology?”
“For what?”
“Ruining my Christmas,” Jon said, struggling not to laugh. “I didn’t plan to spend the three days before Christmas chasing you across the country.”
“Nobody asked you to do so.”
Jon shook his head. “So you thought I was going to get divorce papers and just go on with my day?”
“Actually, Jon, I thought we were having dinner. Had you made it home to do something that I wanted to do for a change, we could’ve had this conversation in Miami. But I got a gift from your secretary and don’t tell me you picked it out.”
“I won’t,” he said. “Because I honestly didn’t.”
“Since we’re being honest, I’ve never liked Tiffany’s jewelry. I just think the boxes are pretty.”
Jon opened the door, realizing that the driver was earning a lot of overtime for just standing there. “Sorry about that,” he said to the driver. “We’re ready to board the plane.”
Lola started to tell her husband that she wasn’t going anywhere until he let her in on the exact place they were going. But she noticed the gold band on the driver’s right hand.
“Oh,” she said, “you’re just ruining everybody’s Christmas.” Lola turned to the driver and smiled. “Sorry about keeping you away from your wife, I’m sure she misses you.”
He tipped his hat to Lola. “She understands my work schedule, but we have a special evening planned.”
Turning to Jon, Lola said, “Look, a man who can balance work and his wife. You could learn a few things from him.”
Jon frowned, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a few hundred dollars, and then handed the cash to the driver. “Thank you for all of your help today.”
“Thank you, sir!” the driver said excitedly.
Jon placed his hand on the small of Lola’s back and gently pushed her toward the jet. “Where are we going, Jon?” she asked again.
“You’ll see.”
She rolled her eyes as she walked up the stairs. “Jon, I promise you, if I end up in Miami at one of your—”
He twirled her around and nibbled at her bottom lip. “It’s going to be worth it, trust me.”
Despite herself, she smiled. Lola loved this side of her husband. Playful and smiling. The man she married. The man she fell in love with.
“Trust you,” she said, then kissed the tip of his nose. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Jon pulled her closer to his chest, brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’m the one filled with regret.”
“Really?” She furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Lola, I never wanted to make you unhappy. I thought building this company would give us everything we needed.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Jon? All I need is you.”
He took her face between his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m sure my mother felt the same way about my dad. But when he died, we had nothing. We came to Miami with the clothes on our back and a few dollars. I never want to leave you in that situation.”
“Jon,” she whispered. “But you’re already gone.”
“I’m right here.”
She shook her head. “Your money is always there, but my husband is nowhere to be found,” she said.
“What do you suggest I do?”
“I’m willing to bet that you hire competent people. Let them shoulder some of the weight and responsibilities. Don’t you think your employees want to see the company succeed? I’ve seen how you treat them; maybe if I worked for you, we’d spend more time together.”
“But I . . .”
“Listen, Steve Jobs, all of these hours you’re putting in at JMJ are going to do two things—early grave or a divorce.”
“The divorce is not going to happen,” he said.
“So, are you going to spend more time with your family? And I’m not just talking about me, Jon. Your mother thinks you work too much as well.”
“So, you and my mama sit around and talk about my hours?”
“And the fact that Langston is a man-whore and neither of you is going to make her a grandmother.”
Jon chuckled. “Ouch.”
“It’s true. Anyway, why did you bring Langston with you?”
“I thought I might need backup to pry you away from your boyfriend.”
Lola rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I still can’t get over the fact that you thought I came here with another man.”
“Divorce papers make a man feel that way,” he replied with a snort. “There were several other ways to get my attention, Lola.”
“Oh, and I guess I hadn’t tried that? Do you remember Halloween?”
Jon furrowed his brow. “Halloween?”
Lola stepped back from him. “I waited for you in a black leather catsuit, with a long furry tail.”
“Umm, I . . .”
“Came in the house, gave me a kiss on the forehead, and went into the basement with that damned game.”
“There were bugs in programing and I had to . . . wait . . . I thought I was tripping, you had a whip on your hip that night, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “And had I taken Tashmir’s advice and learned how to crack it, I would’ve hit you in the back of the head.”
“I am so sorry,” he said, beckoning her back into his arms. “How I missed you in that, I will never know.”
She smacked him on his arm. “And this has been our marriage for the past several months, if not the last year.”
“You know this has been an important year for JMJ; between the lawsuit and the new games, I’ve been busy.”
“People make time to do what they want, Jon. So I guess I’m to assume you didn’t want to do me?” Lola walked across the cabin and took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs.
Jon crossed over to her and kneeled in front of her. “Don’t ever think that I don’t want you,” he said. “You’re all I want, Lo.”
“And you show it by ignoring me?” Tears bubbled in her eyes, but Lola was tired of crying. How many nights had she cried alone in bed while her husband focused on everything but her?
“Baby,” he said.
“Jon, I can’t do this. You can’t give me everything now, and then when we return to Miami it’s back to the status quo.”
“What do you want me to do? You know that I’m the face of my company and that I’m—”
“I thought you were my husband. I thought you were more than a businessman. I thought I was more important to you than money.”
“You are,” he said. “And you always have been.”
“Then prove it!” She pushed her husband. “I’m tired of being ignored, Jon. I’m tired of you using taking care of your mother as an excuse to ignore me and our marriage. I love Mama Joseph and she knows it. She’s also fine, Jon. I’m the one who needs you. Even your mother agrees. As a matter of fact, I got the Christmas box idea from her.”
“What?”
Lola nodded and fought back a laugh. She had been just as shocked as Jon was right now when his mother had told her that her son needed a wake-up call and divorce was the way to go.
“Make that boy of mine understand what he has even if he thinks he’s going to lose it,” her mother-in-law had said as they’d sipped coffee and nibbled on cream-filled ladyfingers. “I can see in your eyes that you’re lonely, Lola.”
It had felt funny talking to Mama Joseph about her son and how upset she was about the direction of their relationship. But at that moment, they were not mother and daughter-in-law, they were two girlfriends.
And her idea had been out there, a little off the wall. But when Jon had spent Thanksgiving day working while Lola made excuses to his mother and brother as to why he wasn’t there—the camel’s back snapped in two.
Before serving the papers, Lola had tried to make things work. She’d tried surprising Jon with a romantic lunch picnic, but he’d been in a meeting th
at day. Then there had been the candlelight dinner she’d prepared on his birthday. When Jon walked in and right past the dinner table and headed down to the basement mumbling about bugs and delayed release dates. Lola had been tempted to toss one of the candleholders at his head, but she continued being the dutiful wife and fixed him a plate, then took it downstairs to him. In her heart of hearts, Lola had secretly wished that she’d find her husband making plans with another woman, something that would explain what had changed in their relationship. She’d only found him doing what he did every night: working. Hunched over the computer with a pair of earbuds tucked in his ears. Setting the plate on a table behind him, Lola knew divorce had to be the next step. Though it had been the last thing she wanted. But Mama Joseph had been right. She needed to get her husband’s attention by any means necessary.
Did she really have it now? Looking into his sparkling brown eyes, she really hoped that she did, because leaving was not an option. “Where are we going, Jon?” she asked.
“You’ll see and, yes, you will have your white Christmas, I think.”
“You think?”
“I’ll have the pilot check the weather reports,” he said with a wink.
Lola smiled despite herself. That wink had always been her undoing. The direct path to the wetness between her thighs. He’d winked at her like that the night they’d met. She’d spotted him across the crowded bar during the Jingle Bell Hop in Orlando. She and Tashmir had been there because they didn’t have anything else to do for Christmas. That had been the first Christmas Lola had spent without her grandmother, but neither of them had the money for Lola to come home to Asheville. She hadn’t been happy that she was in hot-ass Florida. Folding her arms across her chest as Tashmir had brought her a Christmas martini, Lola had decided she was ready to go.
“This is not Christmas,” she’d told her friend after accepting the drink.
“It’s Florida, I know you didn’t expect snow.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I hate to tell you, that’s not going to happen. Why didn’t you go to Asheville?”
