War (28 page)

Read War Online

Authors: Shannon Dianne

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From Tiffany’s Desk

 

Hi Mommy,

This is Tiffany. I talked to Gramps. I’m not licking things now. Just people.

See you when you get back from the food show.

Got to go. I’m at Auntie Danny’s house and I’m about to hold Sunny.

Love,

Tiff

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the Desk of Malcolm Blair

 

Jasmine,

I see Tiffany’s still licking things. Let’s just say Sunday isn’t too thrilled about it.

Just wanted to drop you a line and tell you that when you get back, I’m always available for that ride.

Malcolm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the Desk of Jacob Blair

 

Winnie,

The golden age is before us, not behind us
. ~Shakespeare and Cadence

-Jake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WINNIE

 

              Danny and I are in DC to have dinner with Lola.

              “I don’t know why I’m even here.”

              “Because you’re supporting a friend in her time of need,” I tell Danielle.

              “Oh
give me a break.” She takes a sip of champagne. It’s Friday, eight o’clock and we’re sitting on the veranda of McCormick and Schmick’s people watching, looking at those red trolley buses drive up and down the street with Georgetown law students and business guys in suits. “Need I remind you that Lola sent nudes to my priest?”

              “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. How can you and I continue to be mad at Lola for doing that when we kinda did the same thing with that slut, Jasmine? I think God sees it as all being equal. As a matter of fact, God specifically said that He doesn’t think any one sin is greater than the next.”

              “He’s lying. And since when do you go around quoting God?”

              “Shut up. You know I’m one of those people who, when faced with adversity, go to church to study God’s ways. And let me tell you, I’ve been going to Bible study for about five weeks now and I’ve gotta say, most of the shit Father Bianchi says is true.”

              “I would hope
all
of it was true.”

              “Which is why we should forgive Lola. That and I need to talk to someone who understands me.”

              “What are you talking about? I understand you completely. I’ve been through a divorce. I’ve had a troubled marriage. I’ve been treated like dirt by a husband. I’ve felt inadequate. I’ve felt like a loser with no hope, no promises of a better life and utterly alone, abandoned and unwanted. Just like you.”

              “Shut the hell up. That’s not how I feel.”

“Oh.”

              “I hate you.”

              “So, the only reason I can think that you’re talking to Lola is that you want to work things out with Jacob.” She raises an eyebrow to me. I let out a deep breath and take a sip of my champagne. I told Danny three weeks ago that I was going for a divorce. I promised her that this was the last time I was going to divorce Jacob. But now, call me a fool, but I’m not so sure about it all.

“Listen Danielle, divorce is a major step, especially when you love someone. Okay? I’ve been there. I’ve divorced the man I loved once before and to know that I’ve got to go through all of that again is fucking depressing. Because it doesn’t matter how betrayed you feel by someone, for every fault a person has, they usually have one redeeming quality that cancels it out. When I think of Jake, I don’t just think about him being a cheater, I look at the whole man. It’s like Amy Winehouse’s
Back To Black
album. I loved every song until I got to the last song,
Addicted
, and then I was like ‘I don’t like that at all!’ But do I hate Amy Winehouse? Especially when I love all of her other songs? No. I take the bad with the good and still rock the album from beginning to end. And even though she recorded a song that I don’t like, she’s still my
favorite
singer. For me, there is no other singer dead or alive that could compare to her…in spite of that damned
Addicted
. So as much as I hate the cheating part of Jacob, I love the other parts of him. Danny, I love that fucking man. Do you hear me? I
love
him.”

“I hear you…” She takes a sip of her champagne.

“So what do you do? Do you leave someone for their shortcomings or stay with someone because of their strengths? That question is really fucking with my mind, because when you’re married to someone with
any
redeeming qualities at all, leaving them for their shortcomings is tough as hell.”

              “You think I don’t know this?” She points to herself. “This is the woman who was going to stay married to Jon St. James just because he wasn’t a cheat, he paid the bills, he didn’t slap me around, and—here’s biggest part—he was a good father. That last one was enough for me to stay married to Jon forever.”

              “Jacob is
so
good with the kids.” I take another sip of champagne. Damn, this decision is hard.

              “He is.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “And what happens if you divorce him, find another guy that’s good to you but shitty towards the kids?”

              “I’ll cut his balls off.”

              “Exactly.”

              “So, what are you saying? Divorcing Jacob is selfish? That just because he treats me like shit but treats the kids good, I should stay with him?”

              “I’m not saying that; after all, I didn’t stay with Jon.”

              “No, you didn’t. You found a guy who was good to you
and
Nicky.”

              “I did. But let’s back up a sec. Does Jacob really treat you like shit?”

              “What do you mean? He cheated on me with four different women! One women in our own circle.”

              “He did. But let’s think about this.” She moves her chair close to me. “What are your other complaints about Jacob?” Complaints about Jake? I stare at Danielle as I try to think of an answer, the restaurant buzzing around us with clinking glasses and snickering women. What are my other complaints about Jake… “I’m waiting.”

              “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

              “If you have to think this hard, then there’s nothing there, Winifred.” I smile at the nickname. “And can I ask this question? Why do we humans place more penalties on sexual indiscretions than we do anything else? Can we be real here?”

              “I was born real.”

              “Let’s be honest, Jacob and Malcolm have tons of issues. They deal with shady politicians every day and they beg, borrow, steal and scheme to get them out of trouble. Or to get them elected into office. So, if God sees bad things equally, wouldn’t Jacob’s shadiness and dishonesty be as bad as his infidelity? Why don’t you leave him for that? The truth is that you’re assigning different values to Jacob’s shortcomings. And you’re punishing him because of it. You’re doing the exact opposite of what God told you to do in Bible study.”

              “Yes bitch, but here’s the difference: I don’t give a shit how Jacob treats senators and their constituents. I care about two things: how he treats our babies and how he treats me. When he had those affairs with those women, he fucked me over.”

              “Fair enough. So let me ask, what are you doing to him when we all go out to some bar near the harbor, meet up with his sisters and then you start drinking, dancing on tables, getting into a an argument with a biker, breaking the jukebox when he orders a song you don’t like, getting into a bar fight with his
old lady
, knocking over the tea lights on the tables and then causing a four-alarm blaze?”

              “Like you should be the one talking about fires.”

              “And what is it doing to Jacob when I have to beg the cop not to arrest you while one of his sister’s is making frantic calls to him?”

              “Alright, I get it.”

              “Then Jake gets there in record time with a wad of cash and those undercovers that he and Malcolm use and they ‘arrest you’.”

              “I get it!”

              “The point is that you do bad shit, too. You do things that can ruin his rep and his name. He’s running a business but you’re getting drunk and dancing on tables. You’re burning bars down. You’re beating up bikers. Sure you aren’t sleeping around on him but damn Winnie, you come with your shit too.”

              “I’m gonna punch you in the face.”

              “And, let’s think about this, even Demetrius doesn’t think Jacob messed around with Jasmine and yet Jacob told you the truth. And what about the other women?”

              “What about them?”

              “Jacob didn’t have to tell you about them, Winnie. No one knew about these women and everyone thinks that Jasmine is obsessed and deranged. He could have gotten away scot-free. And yet, he’s told you the truth. It just seems to me that Jacob is tired of the bullshit. Of his women and your bar fights. Of his scheming and your wild nights. You two have been acting like a bunch of college kids. Maybe he’s ready to grow up.”

              “Winnie? Danielle?” Danny and I look away from each other and see Lola standing at our table, her stomach round, her silky white maternity shirt draping elegantly. She looks the part of a senator’s wife these days: glossy hair that’s perfectly bouncy, an American flag pin over her heart, red lips that reveal a perfect smile. Danielle kicks me under the table. I pinch her leg.

              “Ow,” she whispers.

              “Look at you!” I say as I stand, walk around to Lola’s side of the table and give her a hug. She even smells like a senator’s wife: powdery.

              “Three more weeks!” she says with a huge smile. Her teeth are perfectly white; her smile appears camera ready.

              Flash!

              “You know DC,” Lola says as she shrugs off the picture just taken of us.

              “It’s the same in Boston,” I assure her.

              “Danielle,” she says, a hint of awkwardness in her voice. Danielle smiles but it looks fake as hell, she never was a good pretender. “You look great,” she says as she takes in Danielle’s figure which, according to the genes of Elise and Danielle Rouge, has bounced back to its normal shape within a mere eight weeks. Danielle doesn’t say thank you, she just nods and continues to fake smile.

              “Stop the fake shit,” I say out loud to Danielle as I make my way back over to my seat. We need to break the ice here. I’ve come to discuss serious business. Danielle instantly drops her smile.

              “I don’t like you, Lola,” Danny says as she sits back in her chair.

              “Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear these past five years,” Lola says as her bright smile fades into an even face. A regular Lola face. “Can I just say one thing?” she asks as she takes a seat.

              “Sure.”

              “I was a woman over the edge when I met you.” I take a seat and then a sip of my champagne. “I was desperate and mad and just…insane with anger.”

              “At Cadence.”

              “Yes, at Cadence.”

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