Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2) (31 page)

Earlier this month in your office? How did she find it?

Why was it sitting on your desk?

Were you looking at it?

Do you look at it all the time?

God, Jacob! Do you still love this girl?

Why won’t you stop looking at that picture now?

Don’t you know that I’d lay down my life for you?

Do you love her?

What do you mean you don’t know?

Has there been other women?

So for two days, you’ve been nervous that Laura had that picture?

Why won’t you stop looking at  that picture?!

She’s asking questions and he’s mumbling answers.

Damn, say something in your defense Jake. There’s a cab waiting right on the curb for your wife. Say something. Tell her you’ll change, tell her you’ll never do that shit again. Hell, lie even. Tell her that there aren’t any other women, just her. Tell her that you forgot you even had the picture. Tell her that you want her. Tell her that you just didn’t want to be forced into marriage. Tell her that you’ve discovered that she’s the woman you’ve always wanted, even if you didn’t know that when you married her. Tell her something …

“Maybe I can find a condo in our building, you know, so you can still be near Ralphie.” Winnie says and then waits. She’s waiting for Jacob to stop her from leaving in that cab. Stop her Jake. I watch his eyes scan her before he closes them … and nods.

             
And Winnie puts a hand to her mouth. She’s shocked. He’s going to let her leave. Red and I are standing outside, a few feet away from them, just as shocked.

At Italiano’s we told Red exactly what was going on. We told her that we needed her to help Dena and Evan out of the suite, take them to the lobby and then call Nat. Then, she was to immediately come back upstairs and wait until we finished with Laura.

After we left the pier and snuck back to my truck, Jacob told everyone the story behind the missing picture he was sure Laura now had. I told everyone that I was sorry for my part in it and that I was just as much to blame. It was an oversight on my part that led to Laura finding that picture. It was pretty silent in the truck as Red and Winnie listened to the story and then whispered between each other.
I had no idea
, I heard Red say.
Don’t blame me Winnie, I swear I had no idea.
I watched Winnie shake her head in understanding before whispering something inaudible to Red. Jacob and I waited for about an hour in the truck while Red and Winnie went for a walk to talk in private. All he kept saying was:
I love her Mac. I just do. I love Jasmine and I can’t make that shit go away.
I had no words of comfort for him so all I could say was:
Jacob, there was a reason why you started seeing Winnie. Try to remember why. Why did you go to Winnie if you were so happy with Jasmine?
He couldn’t answer.
I don’t remember,
he said. As soon as Red and Winnie returned we went to Laura’s hotel, stopped by the front desk and showed the receptionist a picture of Laura. She had seen the news. Red told her that Laura was in trouble and was suicidal and that Dena March was missing. She was last seen with Laura. We were
scared
, we told her. (Funny … scared.) We were given the key to the suite but the receptionist notified us that she’d have to contact the police and fire department. All that meant to us was that we had to hurry. We tried to enter the room but it was locked with a chain. Jacob and I had to knock it down. Good, that added to the story of Laura needing immediate help. Red grabbed Evan and Dena, who couldn’t make it out of the suite without assistance. (Thanks to Cadence’s dumbass.) Winnie, Jacob and I headed for the bedroom. The fact that Laura slept through the door breaking down let me know that she had taken her meds. I kept that in mind when I gave her an extra dose of Lithium. It only took a moment for me to find the diary and picture. Mission accomplished. Red’s a hero. But now Jacob’s in trouble.

I know both Red and I want to scream for Jacob to ask his wife to stay. To beg her to forgive him. I look at Red and she has that look of anticipation; she’s ready to say something to Jacob. I reach out and pull her closer to me. She looks up at me and I give her ‘the eye.
Let this work itself out.
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

             
“Then I guess I should go.” Winnie says as she eases Ralphie out of Jacob’s arms. Red looks up at me again.
Leave it alone, Red. You can’t tell Jacob to do something, he won’t do it.
She rolls her eyes at me a second time. Damn Jacob, say something! Why let your wife leave over some misty ass feelings you have for Jasmine. Come on! I don’t have a problem with Jasmine, she and I used to be cool. But, let’s face it, Jasmine doesn’t have the patience, tolerance or mindset to be Jacob’s wife. There’s nothing wrong with that, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that Winnie is the woman who was made for a man like Jacob and Jasmine is the woman who was made for a man like Marlon. Sometimes opposites attract but still, birds of a feather flock together. Attract: To be appealing enough to draw someone’s attention and make them visit. Flock: Those of the same kind who travel, live and eat together. There’s a difference Jake. Damn, there’s a goddamn difference.

             
Winnie walks to the cab, Ralphie in her arms. She has resolve on her face; she’s absolutely refusing to cry. No, she won’t break down over Jacob, at least not right here. She’ll get in the cab, get on the plane, get all the way home, put Ralphie to bed, head to her bathroom, turn on the faucet water and let it all out. That’s Winnie. She’s a lot like Red in that way; if she even thinks of shedding tears, it’ll damn sure be alone.

             
Jacob hurries ahead of Winnie to open the cab door for her. She has to head back to the house and grab her things. Winnie slides into the backseat and Jacob bumps the door closed with his arm and the cabbie puts his blinker on to drive away from the curb.  Nah, I’ve gotta say something. Jacob’s like a brother, I can’t let him ruin his life.

             
“Jacob–” I start to say.

             
“Danielle.” He turns and says at the same time, his eyes heavy, his shoulders slumped.

             
“Yeah.” Red says as she instantly starts to walk towards him.

             
“Can you go with her … please?” And there you have it. He wants Winnie. This is
Jacob’s
decision now. His parents aren’t forcing him. His in-laws aren’t forcing him. Winnie’s not forcing him. I’m not forcing him. Red’s not forcing him. This is
his
decision.

             
“Of course.” Red says as she begins rushing towards the cab.

             
“Yo.” Jacob says as he knocks on the roof of the cab that’s just starting to drive away. It comes to an abrupt stop and I see Winnie turn around towards Jacob.

“What do I say?” I hear Red ask Jacob.

“I don’t know.” He says.

“Okay.” Red says with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

Jacob heads to the backdoor and opens it for Red who’s rushing towards it. He then looks at Winnie. “Danielle wants to talk to you.” He says. Winnie looks back towards Red, slides over a little and then reaches out a hand for Red to take. Red and Winnie lock hands as Red slips into the backseat. Jacob closes the door and then watches the cab drive away.

10 Months Later

Danielle

October 25
th

Hello, stranger!

That’s the song this ice cream shop is playing now and
it’s what I’m currently snapping my fingers to. I’m doing this while cussing Malcolm and Nicky’s asses out.

“Come on Red, live a little.” Malcolm says to me as he and Nicky watch a grinning ice cream man scoop pistachio gelato in
to a waffle bowl. The ice cream shop is packed with moms and dads and their loud ass kids. Of course everyone in the ice cream line has all eyes on Malcolm and me, their lips creased in a smile
. Can you believe Malcolm Blair and that new black girl he’s dating is here! I mean, Malcolm Blair! He’s about to be in the White House with Rossi pretty soon, let me take my cell phone out and take fifteen pictures, all in a row, and blind the both of them before it’s too late.

             
“Two scoops Malcolm?” I say, my arms crossed.
Flash!
Enough with the damn pictures! “It’s eight-thirty, he’ll be wired all night.” Nicky looks at me, as Malcolm has him in his arms, and scrunches his eyebrows together. He’s telling me to live a little but knows damn well he better not say it. Malcolm taught Nicky how to give ‘the eye’. So Nicky’s starting to get his own little personality and it’s pissing me off. I raise my eyebrows at him and he snaps his head around and then rests it on Malcolm’s shoulder. Malcolm looks at me, narrows his eyes and gives me ‘the eye’.
No one messes with Nicky.
Oh please.

             
“It’s Saturday, Red. Nicky and I had a tumultuous work week, this is how we unwind.” I roll my eyes and try to suppress a smile. Randy Caponi, our faithful ice cream scooper, stops before putting the second scoop on the waffle cone. He looks on with amusement between Malcolm and me.
Who’s going to win this time?

             
“Pistachio and Butter Pecan, Randy.” Malcolm says as he continues to look at me, humor in eyes, a smirk on his lips. “The biggest scoops you can muster.” He winks at me. I nod.
Wait until tonight
. I smirk. His smirk fades. Mine grows wider.
Come on
, he mouths to me,
play fair.
I chuckle and then sashay to a table, knowing his eyes are on me the entire time.

I really do love this ice cream parlor; it’s so
festive in here. Since Sweetest Day was this month, Randy still has all of the windows decked out with hearts, kissy lips and Hershey Kisses window clings. Only a mom-and-pop shop knows how to celebrate the holidays in style. Right now he’s playing
Hello Stranger
, by Dana Owens (for you white people) or Queen Latifah (for us black people). That’s the other thing that I like about mom-and-pops: their ability to pacify all of their clientele at the same time by playing a smooth jazz tune sung by a rapper. Don’t mess with a mom-and-pop. I slide into an open booth by a window, thankful that there was one left since it’s pretty packed, and look at Malcolm and Nicky again. They’re doing some dumb fist bump ritual they made up. I laugh at their corny asses, look out of the window and sit here in pure bliss.

             
It’s funny but even as a feminist, my dream life has always included a husband, children and family excursions. My dreams, however, always included my husband being the father of my children but I suppose it’s too late for that now. Jon is a still perfect dad, especially now that he lives in Boston … and in the same condo building as Malcolm and the crew. I know, I know. So he doesn’t have weekends anymore, he takes Nicky whenever. I’ll stay at Malcolm’s place and ride the elevator down to Jon’s condo and drop Nicky off. Marla is always answering the door with a spatula in her hand and a smile on her face. She’s genuinely happy to see Nicky. Something’s always in the kitchen cooking, since she’s a stay-at-home wife. (Jon loves making his women stay-at-homes I see.) She always greets me with gusto. Jon will yell out a greeting from wherever he is in the house, regardless if I can see him or not. I’ll yell back to him, Marla compliments me on something I’m wearing and then gives me a hug before I leave. Now I’m trying to figure out why I thought she was such a bitch in college. Needless to say, I haven’t told Rena that Marla is a stellar human being. Though I secretly adore Marla, Rena and I still call her a bitch. I can’t tell her that I had it wrong about Marla. I’m tired of letting Rena down. Anyways, Marla’s just so damn tickled to be living with Jon now she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

Malcolm and Jon will see each other in the lobby or outside and they’ll raise chins at each other and that’s it. I can’t lie, the living arrangement works out well. Actually, it’s a dream come true. My ex-husband and the man I had an affair with are just two elevator stops apart. How convenient.

              “Three scoops of gelato.” Malcolm says as he and Nicky slide into the booth. I snap my head back to the two of them as Nicky looks at me and smiles.

             
“Three scoops!” I say, eyeing the pile of cream, sugar and nuts.

             
“Yeah, baby. We’re men.” He looks at Nicky and they break out into the fist bump thing again.

             
“Right.” Nicky says during the middle of it.

             
“You two are so lame.” I say as I reach for a spoon from the pile Malcolm laid on a napkin. They ignore me.

             
“Chocolate, butter and pitas …” Nicky says after the fist bump thing and then grabs a spoon. Malcolm takes the times to pronounce the word
pecans
and Nicky repeats after him, while I dig into the chocolate gelato. Damn, I’m happy. I thought happiness like this was a dream. I never knew that I could be happy with both my son and a man. I just thought that it would always be an either/or deal. Either Nicky would be happy with Jon or I would be happy with Malcolm. I never knew that both Nicky and my happiness aren’t mutually exclusive, but could actually be attained at the same time, by the same guy.