War (22 page)

I learned that Matt would be in jail for the entire weekend hours ago. I was reluctant to tell Rena, though she kept asking every half hour for an update, to which I kept responding:
Still working magic, baby. Don’t worry.
It was bullshit. Matt wasn’t coming home.

              “Rena, can I say something?” Winnie says as she stands up from the couch and walks over to her, her leather boot heels clicking.

              “Winnie, not now.”

              “But just listen.” She takes Rena by the shoulders. “First, let me say that chances are that
Matt
is sleeping on the pull-out couch in the chief’s office. The chief wouldn’t
dare
put Matt in the general public and he would feel bad about keeping him in isolation.”

              “How do you know?” Rena asks, confused.

              “I’d rather not say,” Winnie answers. “Next, Matt
has
to stay in there. If Jacob gets him out, Jon and Marlon may start suspecting something.”

              “I don’t give a damn about Jon and Marlon!” Rena says just as the door to the hospital suite is opening. Here comes Ginger, back from a round of check-ups, getting wheeled into the room.

              “Baby-girl,” I say as I get up from the bed and walk to meet the nurse.

              “We’ve been spoiling her,” the nurse says as she smiles down at Sunday. “And she’s been giving us a look.”

              “Is it the ‘cut it out already’ look?”

              “That’s the one!” The nurse and I laugh as I pick up Ginger from her movable bed. “She has so much personality.”

              “Already,” I say with a shake of my head before kissing Ginger smack on the lips.

              “Adorable, really. Congratulations Attorney and Mrs. Blair.”

              “Thank you, Natalie,” Red says. Nurse Natalie opens the door to the suite, steps out and it gradually closes…almost…there.

              “I don’t give a damn about Marlon and Jon!” Rena screams out. I watch Ginger give me ‘the look’. I give her another smack of a kiss. She kicks her legs.
Cut it out already.

              “Red, look,” I say as I hold Ginger up, a smile on my face. “She’s giving me a ‘look’.”

              “I’m not talking to her,” Red says as she stretches out her arms for me to bring Ginger to her. “Because she gave
me
‘the look’.”

              “Adorable,” Winnie says with a smile. Rena gives a big huff, combs her hand through her hair and walks to a window.

              “I’m sorry,” Rena says. “We should be celebrating Sunday, not talking about Matt being in prison.”

              “He’s in jail, first of all,” Red says as I ease Ginger into her arms. “And second, I agree with Winnie, it’s a strategic move on Jacob and his part.”

              “And his record?” She turns to look at us. “When the firm finds out-”

              “His record will not only be thrown out but his arrest will be sealed,” I tell Rena as I start to walk over to her. “No one will even know what happened. His files were handled by undercovers and the reason he’s in the chief’s office is so the inmates won’t start talking.”

              “Yeah,” Winnie says, also walking over to Rena. “Malcolm’s right. Trust me, I know firsthand.”

              “Can I at least visit him?” Rena asks, her eyes starting to fill with tears.

              “We can’t risk a lot of movement, Rena. Jake will be able to go in and out because he’s Matt’s lawyer.”

              “Oh God,” she turns towards the window and wipes at her face.

              “Well, don’t cry, Rena,” Winnie says as she stands behind her and wraps her arms around her. “He’ll be out in two days.”

              “You all don’t understand,” Rena says, her voice shaky.

              “I get it, Rena,” Red says. “You and Matt are from Roxbury. You both went to college, became investors, and avoided things like arrests and jail. So this is bothering you.” Rena nods her head but says nothing. “But Matt is no hooligan. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

              “This won’t go against his record,” I remind Rena. “I swear.”

              “Rena,” Winnie says in her most soothing voice. “If it makes you feel any better, we can go to my place and take a look at my jail folder. The chief gave me my own copy as a keepsake.” Rena closes her eyes and tries not to laugh.

              “Yes, Winnie. That seems like fun,” Rena says.

              “’Kay.” Winnie leans over Rena’s shoulders and gives her a big kiss on the cheek.

              And there you go. Crisis averted. A chapter closed. After weeks of war, it’s finally ov-

              “I would like to talk to you, Danielle,” Rena says. She turns her head to look at Red before bringing her eyes over to me. “Malcolm, if you don’t mind leaving the room for a moment.” What the hell is
this
about? Rena has information that she doesn’t want to share with me?

              “Sure.” I say. I head over to Red and slide Ginger out of her arms. We both give each other a look.
What’s this about? No idea.

              “I’ll come and get you when we’re done,” Rena says to me.

“No problem.” Ginger and I head towards the door in silence, the sound of my steps echo in the suite. Now I’m beyond intrigued. Is there something else going on? Is there more? I open the door, step out and allow it to close on its own behind me.

              “Hi, Love!” A nurse from behind a counter says as she sees Ginger entering the hallway. “Oh, she has this look that…” The nurse goes on about Ginger’s look. But I’m trying to strain my ear to at least hear the beginning of the conversation the women are about to have. And before the door shuts firmly, with a small click, I can hear Rena beginning to talk.

              “So, Jon-”

MARLON

              I had the movers in my condo all day.

Jon, Demetrius and I left the jail at around one this afternoon. Demetrius didn’t say goodbye. Not even when I asked for him to get Matt out of jail. He ignored me when I tried to apologize, just raised his arm and hailed a cab. He was getting the hell out of dodge. Don’t blame him. I have to think of something to smooth things over with him. Jon and I hopped in a cab together without even saying a word. I called a lawyer friend of mine that I do business with. Told him that I needed him to help Matt out. I called a moving company that I’ve done business with and told them that I needed an emergency move. I called a locksmith and told him that I needed him at my place ASAP. I called a cleaning company and told them I needed their services immediately. I called my admin and told her that I needed her to head into the office and grab sales papers. I called my head of marketing and told him to be on call within the next hour. My lawyer friend called back and said that he called up to the jail, talked to a contact of his and discovered that there’s no record of Matt’s arrest. The Blairs are holding Matt by the balls. What I wonder now is what do they have on Matt? He’s still in jail, what are they blackmailing him with? Whatever it is, Matt must be playing hardball because, well, he’s still in jail. I tried to think of what I could do to get him out of the clutches of the Blairs. But in that cab, I knew there was nothing I could do at the moment. I ended the call with my lawyer friend. There was nothing I could do at the moment.

I went home.

Jon and I still didn’t say a word to each other. He waited out in the cab until the movers pulled up in front of my townhouse.

              “The furniture, the beds…both mine and my children’s, the tables, the appliances, the clothes…just throw them in boxes. Make sure to leave my wife’s clothes. But the area rugs, the dinnerware, the refrigerator, the oven, everything, pack it up and send it to this address.” I gave the movers the address to a condo building I own in Beacon Hill, Whitby Condominiums, a building across the street from Jon’s condo building.

“Be careful of the walls, I don’t want them scratched.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been keeping a private condo in the building for weeks now, trying to catch Jasmine and Jacob walking out of his building together. Trying to catch them in the action. I must have been looking out at the wrong time.

I asked the locksmith to change every lock in the house, including the front, bedrooms and bathroom doors.
“But when you leave, leave the front door unlocked. Come back at midnight and then lock it.” I gave him an extra tip.

“Yes, sir.”

Jasmine needs to get her clothes.

I told the cleaning crew to scrub the place spotless. “And make sure you get the windows.”

“Yes, sir.”

My admin soon arrived. I signed sale forms. “Go to the office and file them”

“Call you when I’m done.”

I called my head of marketing, gave him the sale price and a description of the place.

“List my townhome for sale.”

              “Will do.”

              Took a full hour to give the orders while Jon stayed in the cab. He went ahead and rented it for the night and paid the cabbie up front. We hadn’t said a word to each other since leaving jail but I knew that move was his way of supporting me. When I left my townhome, there was a string of guys walking in and out with sofas and bed, power drills and stainless steel appliances, women and men sliding mops back and forth. When I got back in the cab, Jon and I headed to Roxbury. We needed a dive. It wasn’t until we sat at the table, The Friends of Distinction telling us that ‘everybody needs loves’, and had ten shots lined up in a perfect row on the table, that he opened his mouth.

              “Everyone says I don’t have a heart,” he said before taking a shot, “and maybe I don’t,” he let out a wince from the bitter aftertaste, “but I couldn’t tell you about your wife.” He sat back in his chair. “I tried to get at Jacob that night, just a warning to back off of Jasmine, by getting his wife involved.” He reached out and grabbed another shot off the table. I took one myself. “I never told the 911 operator that Jasmine was there because I didn’t want her name released. I hoped that Jacob would get chewed out by his wife and leave Jasmine alone.”

              “It worked.” I took another shot. Jon shrugged and took another shot with me. He wanted to get Jacob in trouble with Winnie; he succeeded in that. He wanted Jacob to leave Jasmine alone after that night and from what it sounds like, he did. But Jon couldn’t control Jasmine.

              Jasmine.

              Jasmine.

              Jasmine.

              This war is Jasmine’s fault.

I took another shot.

              War.

              This is Jasmine’s fault.

              This is Jasmine’s fault. I took another shot.

              This is all Jasmine’s fault.

              Two plates of catfish, a jar of peanuts, three rounds of fried oysters, a pitcher of water, fourteen shots of bourbon, a basket of chili fries and five glasses of beer later, we crawled out the dive. The owner and two of his security guards had to help us in
to a cab
. Jon’s phone had been blowing up all night: Marla. My phone had been blowing up all night: Jasmine. Oh, and my daughter, Tiffany, left a message on my voicemail: “Dad, Pearl and I have made a decision…what kind of decision is it called
,
Gramps?…Yes, an
executive
decision. We will be staying at Gram and Gramp
’
s house for the weekend. Where there is no bed time. Goodbye and goodnight.”

I called my in-laws back.

              “Marlon, Jasmine is worried sick,” my mother-in-law said. “Where are you?”

              “A cab,” I mumbled as I leaned against the left door in the backseat. Jon leaned against the right. “And I’m leaving her.”

              “What?”

              “Zara, she’s cheating,” I slurred out
,
“
w
ith a Blair.”

              “Oh, Marlon. You sound silly. It’s
Danielle
who’s married to a Blair. Are you headed home? As a matter of fact, head home right now before I call your mother. You’re drunk.”

              “Okay.”

              “
Now
, Marlon.”

              “I am.”

              “Call me once you arrive.”

              I ended the call with Zara. Within seconds, Jasmine started to blow me up again. Either she was on her way home or she had already been home and saw the place cleaned out. Good. I’m done. We’re over. Sue me. That’s fine. I can build my empire back up. I can always make more money. I’m sure the
c
hief will have a heart for a black man who’s been cheated on by his wife. I’m sure he’ll give me the evidence I need—the video footage, the 911 tape, the non-stop text messages to Jacob, the lies that she told to Dena that will destroy her credibility—to fight for sole custody of my kids. Jasmine’s cuckoo. So fuck it. I won’t even fight Jasmine for my money. Let her get what the law will allow and then let her be gone.