My Woman His Wife Saga (45 page)

Going through her phone she scribbled down some information for the twin who was training her, and the location of the gym that she used close to the job. It was an awkward moment because I didn't know that Sheila could be this strong without me, but I was grateful. She was so quiet and mousy years ago, and so easy to control. I had her wrapped around my finger, and she pretty much did whatever I told her to. She wasn't as sexy four years ago either, and she looked like she was slimmed down and toned up nicely. This was definitely a new Sheila I was looking at, and I was happy that she came into herself and took control of her life. She had to once I left because we both knew, had I stayed, she would have still been a damn puppet for me to play with.

I didn't want to waste any more time, and since it was getting late I needed to get back to the judge's house. I was sure by now his butler/bodyguard knew I was gone and I didn't want any shit. Getting up, I headed toward the door, slipping back into my shoes when I got there. When I turned back around to thank her she was still on the chaise, sipping from her cup. She was definitely a totally different person than I remembered, and I was happy that she had gotten stronger.

“Monica, do me a favor,” she said to me as I slipped into my coat.

“Anything for you,” I responded, waiting for her request.

“Make sure you never contact me again, and feel free to lock the door behind you.”

Damn, was it like that? It caught me off guard, but I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. Taking my cue, I exited stage left and went on about my business, leaving her to her thoughts. When I got outside I made sure to lock the car doors, and I searched the lot for suspicious activity before pulling out. I paid close attention to the road and the rearview as I made my way back to the judge's spot. A million thoughts swam through my head as I drove, mainly on who was trying to off me, and I knew I would need me a good stiff drink once I got inside. I wondered briefly how different my life would be if I had stayed, but I knew going was the best move I could've made in my entire life. If my own child couldn't keep me here, there was nothing else here for me.

I was greeted by the butler when I pulled up, and that shit creeped me out a little because I didn't know how he knew I was even pulling up at the time. I got out of the car and tiptoed through the door, ignoring the scowl on his face. I needed to get my thoughts together before Friday got here. I had something to bring to the table to level the playing field and I was ready to go to war if needed. I was all hype about meeting my son, but what if he wasn't ready to meet me?

“You did what?” I barked into the phone. I swear, whenever you want something done right you have to do it yourself. I told this fool to just keep tabs on Monica. How hard was it to follow someone around without being seen?

“It was an accident. She got out of the car like she was about to pull a hammer from the trunk, so I stepped on the gas. I didn't think I was going to hit the bitch.”

“Yo, you are so fuckin' stupid. She ain't carrying no hammer, fool!” I yelled into the phone, steaming. Monica with a hammer? She ain't never been that kind of chick. Yeah, she needed to have her ass served for the shit she did to my homie, but she wasn't a known criminal. Damn!

“Dude, I didn't know. I was just trying to—”

“Where did you put the whip?” I cut him off, mad as fuck that he wrecked my damn ride.
That Infinity set me back a nice amount, and this fool goes and bangs it up. Irked!

“I took it to the garage.”

Click! I had to get my head on straight before I blasted this fool. I had a plan set up, and people just didn't know how to follow directions. Simple-ass directions that a toddler could get with ease. I owned several auto body shops and convenience stores in the area, so I wasn't worried about getting it fixed, but the cost was coming out of his cut. Damn that.

Rolling out of the bed, I took a quick second to roll an el before popping a squat on the toilet. Sheneka was on my damn top, and I knew that she was ready to get shit poppin'. Sometimes you just have to slow down, and let things play out the way they are supposed to. Monica was very smart, and at this point I was certain that she knew someone was gunning for her, even if she couldn't put a name to the face. Now we'd have to wait it out, because no doubt she would go into hiding.
I swear a boss's job is never done.

After smoking the entire blunt to the head, I did my hygiene thing, and got myself together for the day. I made a few rounds, making sure that business, both legal and otherwise, was on point. I had to keep the legal business to wash the money I was making on the street, but I had to admit that once Rico got knocked it took awhile to get my game back up. Niggas was acting crazy now that the top dog was down, and I had to make a few examples of some folks to put the word back out on who was in charge. I hated to even take it there, but some folks need hands-on experiences to get the picture.

Pulling up to one of the warehouses that we kept merchandise in for the body shops and convenience stores, I made sure the coast was clear before entering the building, and locking the door behind me. As I made my way to the back, I took notice of the inventory in stock, and what I might need to order more of soon. Heading straight to the back I took the steps down to the basement toward another door. It was dark and cold down here, but it served its purpose. When I opened the door I was greeted by one of my soldiers tied up in a chair, bloody from head to toe. Several of my other men were seated around him with menacing looks on their faces. I just shook my head as I looked at him. He was one of the best I had; too bad he had to die.

“So, did you get all that you wanted?” I asked him as I leaned against the wall and stared into his swollen eyes. He had been caught skimping off the top awhile back, and today was pay day.

“Yo, C, you gotta believe me. I wouldn't do this to you, man,” he pleaded through bruised and swollen lips. All of that bullshit fell on deaf ears. We had solid proof and too many witnesses to even believe the bullshit he was spitting at the time. As he droned on and on I checked my Myspace account, bored by what he was saying and needing a distraction. Looking through my updates, I saw a post from this fool, posted a few hours before he was snatched off the street, bragging about stealing my shit and me not finding out. Shaking my head, I turned the phone so that he could read the screen through his one good eye.
People are so stupid.

His eye stretched open wide as he read what he typed.

“Carlos, I respect you too much to do that, man! I swear somebody broke into my profile and set me up! I didn't post that! I would never bite the hand that's feeding me. I got kids, man. My baby moms is pregnant right now. I'll get off the block. Just please let me ride,” he pleaded for his life. None of that shit fazed me, and I was already over it. The team knew the consequences of stealing, so off with his head it was.

“Wrap this up, guys. You know what to do,” I instructed as I turned to walk out. I thought he suffered long enough. By the time they cleaned up the body and the mess it would be ready for Monica's simple ass. I hated to even have to drag her fine ass through the warehouse, but when you crossed the crew those were the consequences. I didn't make the rules, I just reinforced them. Besides, Rico would have wanted it this way.

Leaving the warehouse, I dropped by a few more spots before going to check on Sheneka. This entire Monica situation had pushed her over the edge, and had her tripping. The facility had to put her in isolation, and they had her on meds to calm her down. I knew the sooner this ordeal was over the better, and maybe she could get back to her old self. Either way, it was going down . . . just as I planned it.

I was nervous. I couldn't wait for Friday to get here, and now that it had arrived I was stuck. What if this thing didn't work out the way we all planned it? Jazz's mom came back to the house with me after we visited Jazz, and I was kind of relieved that she was still under. The doctor said that her brain activity was still stable, so I was happy that things were going as planned. I could only deal with one thing at a time, and I needed to get this Monica business out of the way first.

I decided to let her meet the kids, but under certain circumstances. I just hoped she would understand that Junior could not know she was his mom. That would confuse all of the damn kids, and I wasn't even in the mood for it right now. I wasn't 100 percent sure if the older twins knew the deal on Junior, and after all this time they might have forgotten about it since it was never really brought up again and he came into the picture when they were both really young. I had Jazz's mom there, hoping that Monica would have enough respect for her to not flip out in front of her, but you never knew with Monica. She would lose her mind without warning, and there was no stopping her at that point. We decided that she would be introduced as their aunt, and that's how we would roll with it. After all, she just wanted to be sure that he was in good hands. I couldn't knock her for that.

I had her scheduled to arrive before the kids got home, so that way we could just ease into it. I wasn't too sure what the kids' reactions would be, but hopefully everything would go smooth. I was a nervous wreck, and Jazz's mom tried to calm me down by telling me I was doing the right thing, but I wasn't so sure about that.
What would Jazz do in this situation?

The ringing of the doorbell startled me, and I had to grab my chest. It was about to go down and there was no turning back. I was inviting Monica into my world again, but this time we would be following my rules. I could not invite her to my bed again, and I kept that in mind as I answered the door.

“Hey, Monica, glad you could make it. Please come in.” I greeted her at the door with a smile on my face.

She was dressed nice in a pair of fitted jeans that cupped her plump ass just right, and were tucked inside of a pair of riding boots that I knew Jazz would die to have. Her Coach peacoat fit nicely on top of a cowl-neck sweater in a burnt orange that went nicely with her highlights. She had a touch of lip gloss on kissable lips that I had to avert my eyes from. I took her coat to place in the closet, and took a quick whiff of her perfume before hanging it up. Thoughts of her legs wrapped around me tried to invade my mindset, but I pushed them to the side and kept it strictly professional.

“Thanks for having me, James. I really appreciate this,” she responded nervously, and I could understand why. She was meeting her son for the first time today officially, and I was sure she was on pins and needles. What if he didn't respond to her the way she thought he would? I wasn't sure what she was expecting to get from the meeting, but if I were in her shoes I would think that she was hoping the situation went smoothly. This entire situation could turn out to be a total mess.

We settled around the kitchen table, and Jasmine's mom joined us after giving her a hug. That made me smile because that's just how Jazz's mom was. She always welcomed everybody regardless of the situation. I offered her a drink, which she declined, so I decided to just get down to business.

“Okay, so after talking this over with Jazz's mom, we decided that you can meet your son under the guise of being introduced as his aunt,” I began, being sure to keep eye contact.

“His aunt?” she repeated more so than questioned. I knew she was hurt by the revelation, but I figured once I explained it she would better understand.

“The way we figured it, if we told Junior you were his mom it would undo everything we already have set in place. He only knows Jazz as his mom, and although the older twins know the deal, it would just confuse everyone. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“I totally understand.”

Both Jazz's mom and I were shocked. I warned Jazz's mom that Monica had a temper, and might spazz out, so we were prepared. Although I was surprised that she didn't go clean off then, I still needed to stay on guard because you never knew with her.

“Okay,” I continued, trying to move this thing along. “The kids will be arriving home soon, so do you want to help us get the snacks ready?”

“Ummm . . . sure. What do you need me to do?”

After setting the table and getting cookies and juice out, I pulled Monica to the side while Jazz's mom was in the restroom. I didn't want her to feel funny about the situation, and I guess I needed her to know that there were no hard feelings.

“Monica, everything is going to work out just fine. The kids are going to love you.”

She gave me a nervous smile as she finished up with the snacks. I could see her tense up as we heard the kids burst into the house, followed by their uncle in a never-ending game of freeze tag. I could hear Jazz's mom yelling for the kids to wash their hands and get ready for their snacks. As the kids barreled into the kitchen, they all came to a halt as they entered the kitchen and came face to face with Monica.

She looked frozen as well as they all made eye contact. I stood back to see how the situation would play itself out. Like I warned Monica during our talk, the kids may have clung to you or just the opposite. She was a stranger, and although the kids were pretty easy to get along with, you just never knew.

“Hi, I'm Janice. What's your name?” came a small voice from the crowd of onlookers. I wasn't surprised that she was the first one to speak up. She had always been very inquisitive, and curious about everyone we came across.

“I'm your Aunt Monica. It's nice to meet you, Janice,” Monica replied as she got down to eye level with her. She looked a little nervous, but once Janice came rushing toward her and wrapped her little arms around Monica's neck in a loving embrace, the tension left the air immediately. All of the kids followed, and it was just one big hug fest. I certainly felt relieved, and the relief was on Jazz's mom's face as well.

“Okay, kids, wash your hands. We got snacks!” I hollered out. The kids crowded around the sink as I pumped out foam soap into their little hands. The kids engaged the adults about their days as we ate cookies and drank milk. I stepped away from the table to prepare dinner as the conversation went on. They didn't even put up a fight when their grand-mom left because they were all so intrigued by their new aunt.

As they were having fun at the table, I could see Monica staring at her son periodically. It was crazy how much he looked like her. They had the same smile that accentuated deep dimples, and were almost the same complexion, with Junior being a half shade lighter than Monica. It was a great moment, and I was glad that she came by. At least if she never came back, she could say that she got to meet him face to face. Unraveling this white lie would be a mess, I was sure, but for now this was how it had to be.

“So, where do you live?” Jaden asked as she stuffed her face with Oreos. She looked so much like her mom at that moment it was scary.

“I live in Atlanta,” Monica replied with a polite smile. I watched just to make sure I didn't have to intervene, because the kids would question you to death. I didn't want her first and possibly only visit to be overwhelming for her.

“Where is that?”

“It's far away,” Jalil answered before Monica could. It brought out the prettiest smile on her already gorgeous face, and drew a quick laugh from the crowd. Of course Jaden didn't think that it was funny, and it showed on her frowned-up face.

“Dad.” Jaden turned around, ignoring her brother. “How come Mom didn't say who Aunt Monica was when we were at the hospital?”

It got quiet and all eyes were on me, ready for an answer. Monica looked horrified, and ready to jet. I knew this meet and greet was going too smoothly. I came from around the island, and took a seat at the table, ready to tell my trusting children more lies. The only reason I knew I would get away with it was because I was not that close with my family, and once Jazz and I got married I didn't keep in contact with them. The kids spent the majority of the time with Jazz's family, and that's just how it'd always been. I hated to even go there with them, but like the old saying goes, “you tell one lie and end up telling another, and you tell two lies to cover each other” . . . You know the song.

“Well, that is because Grand-mom had never met Monica because I don't see that side of my family a lot. Aren't you glad she's here now?”

“Yes,” came tiny voices in unison.

“And what do we do when we're happy about something?”

“Hug fest!” all of the children yelled as they embraced me and Monica.

We barely dodged the bullet on that one, but I was happy I was able to skate through. As the kids continued to chat, I went back to preparing dinner. I couldn't help but wonder, as I watched Monica with the kids, if I was doing the right thing. I mean, things with me and Jazz were on the brink of being over, and I briefly wondered if I could do the family thing with Monica. Just as quickly the thought left my head. My place was with my wife . . . or was it?

Everything just seemed so easy with Monica here today. Normally Jazz and I would be fussing with the kids to get their hands washed and get seated for dinner. Junior would no doubt be fighting with one of the older twins, and the tension between Jazz and me was always thick because we never ever resolved any previous arguments. The shit just piled on from one drawn-out disagreement to the next, to the point where we didn't even know for sure why we were upset with each other at the current moment. Was it some recent shit, were we beefing about something from the past, or a combination of both? It was just a mess, and we didn't hide as many arguments from the kids anymore. It didn't get downright ignorant like it did in the privacy of our bedroom, but the side comments and snide remarks weren't missed, and luckily the kids didn't get it. They knew something was wrong, but exactly what remained to be determined.

There was a sense of calm in the kitchen, and fascination on the kids' behalf. The girls were in awe and wanted to play in her long hair, and the boys just smiled at her openly. The flow of conversation just . . . well, flowed! It was a great night all the way up to dessert, and it just seemed to happen so naturally. Just the way it should have been all the time.

Dinner was amazing, and I marveled at how my and Monica's moves in the kitchen were nearly synchronized. Even during the meal, she served all of us before fixing her own plate, and her interaction with the kids was great. Jazz would fix the kids' plates and hers, cooking just enough for them and maybe some scraps for me, leaving the rest of the food, if any at all, for me to scrape from the bottom of the pans. Even after dinner, we had a good family night as we played Twister and Scrabble with the kids, and even tucked them in at the end of the night. All of the kids went to sleep with smiles on their faces, and Jordan even insisted on sleeping in his own bed. I was hesitant at first because of his injuries, but Monica reassured me that it would be okay. I even stayed back as she kissed each kid good night, and made sure that they were all tucked in. All Jazz ever did was holler at the kids during bath time, threatening them to hurry up and get in bed. There were no bedtime stories, or tucking them in, and if it weren't for me going back to their rooms after they were all done to say good night, and make sure they were okay, the kids would probably think we didn't love them at all. Monica handled this all very differently.
A girl after my own heart.

After rinsing the dishes and stacking the dishwasher, we sat down to catch our breath from the busy afternoon and evening. Monica still had that bewildered look on her face, and I knew she was probably just taking it all in. I was happy that she got to see and spend time with her son, but at the same time I wondered if that would be enough.

“So, what do you think?” I asked her, directing my question about the evening we just spent as a family.

“It's . . . I don't know. A lot, I guess. I could see myself doing this.”

It got quiet again. Those roaming thoughts popped in my head again, but I knew I couldn't go there with her. There was no way I was going to walk out on Jazz and leave her ass out to go live it up with
our
jump off. I gave her a gentle smile, indicating that I understood.

“How long are you in Philly for?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“I'm not sure. Had some things on my to-do list that I needed to get squared away, so once I'm done with that I guess I'll be heading out.”

“I hear that,” I said, followed by an awkward silence. “Well, let's be sure to get together again before you go so that the kids can get to see you before you head back to the ATL. You know they will ask about you.”

“I'll be sure to do that.”

We sat there staring at each other, and I could feel the connection. I had to divert my eyes and think about baseball because my boxers were getting tight. Getting up, I went and grabbed her coat out of the closet and walked her to the door. I was afraid that if she didn't leave right then it would definitely go down. Planting a kiss on her cheek, I waited until she was securely in the car and pulling off before I closed the door and locked the house down for the night. I didn't go upstairs until she called to let me know she was home, and once we were done with our brief conversation wishing each other a good night, I was able to get my head on straight.

Later in the shower I couldn't help but fantasize about the things I would have done to her pressed against the shower wall. I had a firm hold on my manhood as I leisurely stroked one out, pretending my hand was her mouth. Lord, that woman still had me open. After toweling dry, and slipping into my PJs, I doubled back to check on the kids, and was happy that everyone was asleep. Slipping into my bed, I willed myself to do the same thing. Saturday mornings in the Cinque household meant fixing breakfast for five hungry bellies, and the kids never let me sleep late.