Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2) (9 page)

No
w do you see why I always call Cadence a dumbass? He’s a weak dumbass and his wife is smarter than him. Not a good combination when you’re having an ongoing affair with a married man. So I thought it would be smart for me to leave the hotel that he was ‘protecting’ me in. I grabbed some cash from his wallet and decided to hang out at Starbucks for the night. You’re probably wondering how I can be so calm right now. Well luckily, I took my Lithium yesterday morning. It’s really mellowed me out. I’m smiling right now … look …

Anyways, tomorrow, I’ll go to the bank and take some cash out and then head to Dena and Nat’s. There I’m certain to find protection from Lola and a safe meeting ground to talk to Malcolm. So yeah, I’
ll just stay at Dena and Nat’s place while everyone heads to Hilton Head … without me. I’m still bitter over that one but Dena assures me that she isn’t thrilled about going either. She says that Danielle is the most uppity black girl she’s ever met and Winnie treats her like she’s one of
us
.

But I’m sure you want to know how this all got started. So let’s start from the beginning … here was the scene from earlier this evening right after I met Cadence at the airport …

              “Have you been working on your routine?”
Cadence leaned over and whispered to me in the limo on the way to McCormick & Schmick's. Why did he ask me such a thing? He already knows that I am an accomplished gymnast … well I
was
. Remember Diary, I could have qualified for the ’96 Olympics had I not broken my ankle during tournaments that year. (That career ending injury still makes me cry myself to sleep at night. But you know all about that.) I was once an Olympic hopeful, so it disappointed me that Cadence would question my dedication to my routine.

“
That question frustrates me. Of course I have.” I replied back. He appeared pleased with my answer as he began gazing out of the limo’s window, whistling
Silent Night
. Cadence is an accomplished whistler; he used to enter contests when he was younger.
I could have gone pro
, I say aloud sometimes, when I think of my gymnast career.
Me too
, Cadence adds when he thinks of his whistling. He and I are just full of broken dreams.

“I always envied Malcolm that he found a gymnast,” Cadence said while still gazing out of the window, “considering he was only interested in track and basketball during the Summer Olympics.” Cadence has
4 Olympic Games worth of summer Olympics on VHS, CD and now hard drives, featuring the Women’s Gymnastics Team. (Going back 16 years.) But I’ve already told you about that.

Anyways, last night, Cadence and I were in a particularly complicated moment of acrobatic fucking, where I had successfully landed the most graceful dismount that I’ve ever done:

“9.4 out of 10.” He said when he noticed that I had stuck my landing. “I always love your routines; it’s the dismounts that worry me,” he added as he stroked his cock. Now, I had been working on that dismount for quite some time so I planned on relishing in the moment of my perfect execution, but the fire stole my glory. I was just about to complain about my score when the smoke drifted in under the bedroom door. That damn Lola, I swear she burned my house down just to ruin my routine. She was always jealous of my gymnast career.

Well, it seemed that first we smelled smoke and then the entire room was engulfed in flames, with barely any time for me to grab anything near and dear.
You were the only thing I came out with … oh and Cadence too. But my trophies, all of those gymnast trophies, every single one of them are gone. I’m sorry if you notice the water spots on this page, but I can’t help but cry over my golden ladies. Gone, all gone.

While I do realize that Lola has every right to be irritated
over me fucking her husband, I don’t think she had a right to burn my gymnast trophies. There are just some things that should be off limits.

Love,

Laura Ann
Blair
Rossi.

PS

To Do List

1. Buy a pre-paid phone.
   
2. Call Dena.
   
3. Call Malcolm.
   
4. Refill Lithium prescription.
   
5. Go to the bank.             
   

Danielle

7
a.m.

Connecticut

“Hello?” I say as I press the speaker button on my cell.

“Ms. Rouge, this is Nell from the front desk. I have Attorney Blair here and he’s been up to see you but you don’t seem to be answering. Is everything alright?”

“Hang that shit up!” Rena says. I end the call.

“Nell’s in on it too. I knew it! Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” I say to Rena as she drives across the Connecticut border. “He’s looking for me.” I cover my hand with my mouth and then look at the time. Seven a.m. Damn, Rena’s been putting petal to the goddamn metal. I empty a corner-store-size bag of Cheetos in my mouth and then reach for my McDonald’s chocolate shake to wash it down. “Dammit … accidentally knocked over my Skittles.”

“You need to get rid of that phone.” Rena says as she checks her rearview mirror.

“You think he put a tracker on it?” I say as I pick a skittle up off the floor and pop it in my mouth.

“Of course he did!”

“Shit, you’re right.” I log into my phone, send a mass text message out to my employees telling them that I’ll be out of pocket for twenty-four hours, back up all of my data onto my SIM card, take that out, place it in my clutch and then throw the cell phone out of the window. “He’ll be in a field in Connecticut looking for us. Serves him right.”

“He’s going to try to kill us.” Rena says matter-of-factly with a shrug. “Either that or he had the police with him just now.”

“This is it Rena. This is how it all ends.” I sink down in my seat and put a hand over my mouth, sliding the milkshake straw between my fingers. A moment in time, just one moment in time, turned me into a murderer and now I will have to pay for that for the rest of my life. Nicky will have to grow up with Jon and Marla. But then again, I could have Marla killed. What’s one more murder when you already have one under your belt? And then, instantly, I’m surprised at the thoughts that are passing through my own head. Wow, the mind of a murderer is truly wicked. Who knew?

“They won’t take me alive.” Rena says. “I’ll throw Georgie out of the car but they’ll have to take my ass down.”

“What if they barricade us as we pass through Virginia?”

“We’ll drive through it.”

“What if they start shooting at us to stop?”

“We’re still driving through it.”

So I guess it’s settled. No matter what, we aren’t surrendering. I sit back and prepare for Virginia … and then I fall asleep.

Malcolm                                                         

10 a.m.

Either Red tossed her phone out of a window or she’s dead on the side of the road. Either way, I want to know what the hell she’s doing in
Connecticut.

I’m at my parent’s Boston home right now and I have yet to go to sleep. After I went to Red’s place and discovered that she had indeed ran, I figured I’d wait there awhile since surely, with no ID or passport, she couldn’t get far. Wrong as hell. I can only assume that she’s with Rena, who is the ‘hit-man’ to Red’s ‘godfather’.

              “Okay, we need a plan.” Jacob says to me as we both sit at my parent’s kitchen table drinking our weight in black coffee. My parent’s house is the common meeting ground for everyone when we need an open and private space to discuss matters and crash between discussions. Rossi and his wife, Eva, have come over as well to help find Laura. However at the present, they’re in the living arguing about his mistress Cynthia. Their screaming isn’t the most maddening part of this scene. The most bothersome part is that both Rossi and his wife have always been partial to using the word ‘silly’ and include the word in a great deal of their conversations.

             
“We’re here to discuss Laura, Eva.” Rossi says. “She could be dead out there! And I for one am worried silly.”

             
“Don’t you dare change the subject!” Eva screams back. “I can’t
believe
you’re still seeing Cynthia’s silly ass!”

             
“Oh god … I can’t do this Eva. Goodness! I can’t believe we’ve been arguing about this for ten years now. This is getting silly.”

             
“You
do
know that you’re about to enter the race for the Presidency Carlo, don’t you? The presidency! Don’t you think that it’s kinda silly for you to prance around town with your mistress? I don’t get it. Are you trying to tell me something? Are you trying to tell me that after thirty-two years of marriage, you plan on leaving me?”

             
“Oh, now you’re just being silly.”

             
“Alright,” I say to Jacob as I rub my hands over my eyes, “Red’s gone, Laura’s gone and we’re sitting here wasting time. What did Nat say when he checked Laura’s accounts?”

             
“He said there isn’t any recent activity.”

             
“So if she’s not withdrawing money from her accounts then someone’s putting her up.”

             
“Dena swears she has no idea where she is.”

             
“I’m not sure if I believe that.”

             
“Me either.”

             
We both sit in silence for a moment as we try to figure this shit out. If Laura isn’t withdrawing money from her account, that means she doesn’t need funds. She has to be with someone who’s footing her bill. But who? Winnie and Dena were her only friends. Winnie hasn’t spoken to her since Hilton Head and Dena claims she has no idea where she is. Someone’s lying.

             
“Do you think Cadence actually knows where she is?” Jacob asks.

             
“I was thinking that; he probably does.”

             
Jacob nods at me and then takes a sip of his coffee.

             
“Bring him in.” I say to Jacob before standing and heading to the coffee pot for a refill. He heads to the kitchen phone to dial Cadence.

This shit is getting out of control. The media isn’t onto the fire yet but word travels fast. Pretty soon, when the ne
ighbors start talking, they’ll discover that a house I owned burned to the ground. But until then, I have to do damage control. Unfortunately for me, I can’t take my name off of the deed until Monday. It’s Saturday now. I have two days to keep the peace and pray the media doesn’t catch hold of this story. Two days.

             
It’s then that my cell phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I take it out, hoping that it’s Red. My mother.
Your father and I will be in Boston at 1am sharp,
she’s written,
really disappointed in you all for trying to kill each other. To be honest, I expect more from a Blair.
Perfect. My parents will be coming in tonight. I respect them, don’t get me wrong, but I have little to no power when they enter a room. I’m not saying that I need to always be in control but in this situation, with Red being the guilty party, I can’t afford for Angie and Wynston Blair to come here trying to run shit. Because, as it stands right now, the only people who knows the complete truth about that fire is Jacob, Red, Rena and me. Everyone else is speculating. We four are the only ones who know the entire story and that’s how it will remain.

             
“Cadence says that Lola tried to hurt him this morning and he doesn’t feel safe.” Jacob says as he hangs the kitchen phone up and walks to the table, shaking his head at the foolishness of that statement.