Chardonnay: A Novel (21 page)

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Authors: Jacquilynn Martine

BOOK: Chardonnay: A Novel
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After everyone had come and went their own ways, my mother began
cleaning the kitchen. Denim had come to pick up Konstance. It was just Myron
and I in the den. My father had left the television on, so that left us only
with a dim light.

“You can leave now.” I said to excuse him out the door.

He ran his hand over his mouth and stood as he kept his eyes on
me.

“I’m here if you need me.”

I waved him off as I walked him to the front door. He leaned over
to kiss my cheek. I didn’t move because I wanted that touch in some form of
way. My vulnerability was my down fall. Myron walked out the door looking back
once he reached his Cadillac Escalade. I closed the door. Truth was I was
scared to be around him.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*

July
streamed itself into the raw New Year with a thick haze of heat. In Kansas City
at this time of year, summer time was a desert in the city. The countless
amounts of deaths that took place due to the heat were ridiculous. I sat on my
queen sized pink and ivory lace duvet on my bed and looked through my photo
album of the years I spent as a child. I had so many pictures of my Pal pal and
I
. With no outside interventions, I had the
opportunity to just think. As screwed up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t be going
right back to school.

Nothing made sense anymore. And Jase...I could have killed myself
for what I let Myron come in between. Truly a chance of a life time to have the
attention of a CEO that owned two successful companies.
Twice.
I knew I wouldn’t be forgiven this time, but this time
I
was mad at
Jase. Mad at the thought of him not telling me he had so much money and it
still didn’t sit well with me. Pushing him away would be the best thing for the
both of us and it only seemed right since we couldn’t get what we were feeling
right.

I heard a knock at my door.

“Come in.”

My mother walked in the room with a dusty box that had old
newspaper wrapping around it. Then she gave me a letter...from my pal pal to
me. It was written twenty years ago. I looked up at her and sat up.

“What’s this?”

She sat down by me on my bed and handed me the box. There were old
pictures of me, some of me and my mother near the Eiffel tower in Paris,
France, others of just me when I was a baby in my Pal pal’s arms. My mother
looked at me as I went through those pictures.

“Do you recognize anyone?”

“Yes...me and you.”

She held quiet. I turned over one of the pictures and read it...I
didn’t understand. I looked back up at my mother and she began to speak.

“This box is a keepsake your grandfather kept of you from when you
were born...you
were
never to see this until after his
death.”

My body grew paralyzed as tears fell down my face. My hands shook.
I opened the letter and it was written in another language; Creole language
like the words on back of the pictures.

“He had an IRA that was invested in from the time he was a young
man...a very young man. You were one of his beneficiaries.”

“ME.
Why me?”

She shook her head.

“Chardonnay I’m not sure. But you were to not get this money until
you reached twenty-one, the age you are now.”

“How much money?”
I asked as I kept seeing she was
going around it.

“First there are some things I have to tell you about your family.
We’re not from the United States.”

“Yeah I know daddy isn’t from—”

“No. I don’t mean your father...I mean my family. Your heritage is
much more complicated than what you think. As a child I was raised and catered
to like a princess in France. At fifteen my family moved here.”

She stopped there and I sensed there was another part of the story
she’d rather not tell.

 
“Chardonnay this box is for
your education and discovery into your heritage. Go through it, read it,
confirm, and think about it.”

“So, he wanted me to have this now...why? And I can’t read this
letter.”

“Learn to.”

She stood from my bed and finished with,

“Here’s a check.”

She handed it to me. My eyes glanced over the courier printed
black letters on the pay in the amount of line, five hundred and fifty thousand
dollars...that was a little over half a million. When I came out of my shock
and looked up my mother had gone out my room.

I put the box up and cried myself silly. It seemed what I had been
fighting for was attainable, but it wouldn’t be as easy as I may have thought
it would be to achieve.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*

Myron came
by my house the very next day and as I assumed my mother let him in and
welcomed himself to my room where I lay barricaded under my silk and lace plush
pink pillows. At least when I was away at my friend’s houses I wasn’t easily to
be found. He knocked on my door when he came in, hence my not moving once, I
heard his voice. I cringed and shook my head.

“Hi.” he offered.

“What-do-you-want-now?” the irritation in my voice dragged evenly.

“If you didn’t mind I was coming to see if you needed anything...”

I got up from my bed and walked over to my dresser drawer where I
had slipped the box my mother had given me in.

“Myron, we need to talk.” I said going through the pictures again.
I shook my head as I thought that there had to of been significance to my
grandfather doing what he had done.
 
Why
not share in looking at these pictures with me?

Myron came up behind me and said,

“Where is Kingston?
Haven’t seen him in a
minute.”

“He’s at basketball camp.”

“And Jersey...she wouldn’t even speak to me at the funeral...she
koo
’?”

I nodded my head to Myron yes, but I knew my little sis’ wouldn’t
deal with Myron if I wouldn’t deal with him. She stood by me like that.

“Yeah, she had to leave camp...King stayed...this the first time
he’s dealt with death in the family so he would rather not deal all together.”

Myron nodded his head as if he understood and then tisked his
mouth in a bored “okay it’s your turn to speak” way. When I didn’t impose he
went to ask me what he was stalling to ask me.


You going
back to the hospital to see
Slim?”

“Actually I will be up there for the next few days...until I
figure out some other things.”

Myron nodded his head again and then said, “I’ll take you...go get
your things.”

I believed this was his way of controlling things in his
controlled environment. If I was going to see Slim it was because he offered me
the ride or he had taken me straight to him. As quick as I was about to turn
his offer down I accepted. I had to get back to Slim. So he waited for me in
the foyer while I packed a bag with toiletries a few
 
jump suits, a few panties, hair bands, a
couple towels, a tooth brush, and whatever else I didn’t have the hospital
would provide. I changed out of the clothes I had become tired of, washed up
really quick, and put on some low rider jeans with a loose plain white T-shirt.
My over blossomed ass made Myron’s eyes grow as I came down the stairs. He took
the bag I held over my shoulder from me and over looked me as I walked past
him.

“You tell ya moms yet?” he said referring to our disengagement.

I opened the door, ignoring him. Anything else we had to talk
about we could discuss outside of that house. I didn’t want my mother to dilate
her ears to our conversation. So once we reached the Escalade I turned to
looked at Myron and said,

“What goes on in my life right now is not any of her concern.”

“She doesn’t think so...you and me—she’s all for that and nothing
else.”

I came around his side of the car and asked,

“So that’s why you’re here...to take advantage of this situation
as much as possible? You are sick!”

“And you forget things...”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Chardonnay, we need to talk. I haven’t told you everything about
me,”

His face rested and calmed.

“Your mother shall not know the things I want to tell you as well.”
he said leaning on his now open passenger side door.

“What Myron?”

“Not here.”

I opened the door and went to put my Chanel purse at the base of
the floor when I saw something sparkling too bright. With a trained eye, I
could tell I was looking at a part of a diamond. I picked it up. I couldn’t
believe it...Myron was still talking and putting my bag in the back on the
other side when he looked over and saw what I had found. How the hell did it
get here? I held it up and it sparkled like the moment I first saw it. But
where had I seen it? It was a black diamond that was attached to a diamond
necklace. I looked up at Myron and asked,

“Where have I seen this before?” For some reason panic formed in
Myron’s voice as he saw the jewel dangling as I held it up in his face.

“Um, it—it was uh, in here when I was cleaning my back seat out
one day.”

 
“And you left it here, why?”

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly saying,

“I planned on picking it up. I must’ve forgotten. Let me see it.”

“No! Where did it come from? You know...” I saw it in his eyes.

He took a deep breath and said,

“Just know that I ended up with it, alright. Now let’s get
everything off our minds and at least go to the movies or something.
That sound
cool?”

“No it doesn’t, Myron. You haven’t answered my question.”

“Damn—you don’t let anything go!”

I mugged him and he let out with, “It’s a family heirloom. It was
my father’s mother’s...first gift she ever got from my dad when he made his
dough. She died two months later.”

“So why is it in the backseat of your car if it’s so important?”

He looked at me, blinking to stall time.

“I was taking it to be cleaned so I could give it you...my pops
said that grandma wanted her first
 
granddaughter in law to have it.”

I smirked, “So where have I seen it before?”

“In Paris, France.” he said as he jumped in the front seat of his
driver seat.

“You saw it and fell in love. It was something I couldn’t give you
at the time but—”

“We’ve never been to Paris, France.” I said as I got in the car
and slammed the door close. He chuckled and said,

“Don’t be silly...we went back in February...that’s when
everything changed between us.” Myron’s words trailed off as he became distant,
combing his hand over the other.

I handed him the necklace back and he took it in his palm clasping
it tightly.

“Movie…
remember
?” I asked as I touched
his curls of hair.

“What do you want to go see?” he asked.

I thought about what movies were out and said,

“Kiss me till I cry, staring you.”

He smiled and licked his lips.

“So this means this feature will be playing at a bedroom near you?”

I laughed.

“No!”

He nodded his head.

“Well, how about we just go by and see Slim?”

“That sounds good. But Myron...Slim told me you hired him as my
bodyguard. Is that true?”

“It is.”

“So...you know about him and
I
?”

“What about y’all?”

I wasn’t sure if I should have told Myron that Slim and I actually
messed around or the level of my strip tease skills. He touched my hand and
asked,

“What about you two?” again.

“He—he and I have...done some things other than—”

“He told me,” Myron shook his head.

“But you weren’t mine at the time.”

“But did he tell you that I’ve...stripped before this recent time
with Zasmyth?”

Myron got quiet.

 
“Okay...you’ve gone too
far. I’m sitting here trying to be a good man and listen to you, tell you my
heart. But you want to come to me and tell me about how you’ve fucked my boy
and stripped for him—like I’m your girl or something!”

“I just want everything out in the open!”

“WELL IT SHOULDN’T BE! Everything you’ve put your life on the line
for is not worth your dignity or mine...
see
at the end
of the day, baby I still gotta love you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“My heart won’t have it any other way! You got niggas laughing at
me, talking about how they’ve seen you...” his words trailed off.

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