War (36 page)

              “Last week,” Rena says excitedly, “Matt and I were–”

              “Oh God.”

              “Shut up, Danielle. We were–”

              “Yoo-hoo! Ladies!” a voice calls out. Rena, Danielle and I turn to see Marla walking onto the balcony in a floral dress that properly accentuates her curves (didn’t I see that dress at Neiman’s?); a pair of heels that don’t show her toes through the front (don’t I have those shoes? Jimmy Choos?); a pair of small, discreet gold hoop earrings (where are the ones that makes noise every time she turns her head?); light pink nail polish on her real nails (what happened to the ones that resemble claws?); and
her own hair
. It’s actually thick, dark brown and hangs just below her shoulders.

              “You like
nice
,” Rena says in disbelief.

              “What in the hell?” Danielle says as she turns completely around in her chair to look at Marla. “What in the hell is going on with everybody these days?”

Marla giggles. “Thank you, I just left an exhibit at the museum and decided to stop by to see Nicky, Roman and that pretty little redhead of yours,” she says to Danielle.

“Nicky and Roman are asleep,” Danielle says as she continues to eye The New Marla.

“I know, Malcolm just told me.” She purses her lips up into a sexy pout. Really? “I stayed late to help Bryan clean up.” She gives a small smile to Danielle who gives her a wink back. “You are a mess, Dan.” She shakes her head.

“So I’m told.”

“Malcolm says he’ll get Sunny since it’s time for her to wake up from her nap anyway. Ooh! Wine.” Marla leans into the kitchen and grabs a wine glass off of the counter. “I can’t stay long, I have to be at the museum at eight tomorrow morning.” She heads towards us with her empty wine glass and Rena kicks me under the table. Ever since Jon cheated on Danielle with Marla at my wedding, Rena has never cared for her. “So what are we talking about tonight?”

              “The best sex we ever had,” Danielle says with a smile.

              “Oh darling,” Marla fans herself while pouring a glass of wine. “Where do I begin?”

              “From the beginning,” Rena says. She wants to hear Marla’s take on Jon.

              “You’re walking into a trap, Marla,” Danielle warns her.

“Well, let’s see, the best sex I ever had,” Marla says, ignoring Danielle. “I feel comfortable saying this because Dan and I are so close now.” Rena looks at Danielle, confused. Danielle simply smiles back at her. “But the best sex I’ve ever had was with Jon.” She bats her lashes as she sits down at the table.

“Really?” Rena says. “Do tell.”

“Well, first off, Jon is so focused.” She narrows her eyes for emphasis. “When he sets out to please you, that’s all he has in mind. There’s no time for games or playing around. He has a job to do and that job is to make you orgasm as quickly as he can. Then there’s his eagerness. Sometimes, he looked at me in my little nightie and he could barely get out of all of his clothing. So most nights he still had on a t-shirt or even his boxers! He was so excited. That always made me feel good.” She bats her lashes again. “And then there’s the oral sex. There’s no man dead or alive that can eat you like Jon St. James. Talk about the greatest that ever lived. I also like that he’s so slow and steady. He’s so in control. He can give you a piece of himself effortlessly; he barely breaks a sweat. He’s just that good. So yeah, if you ask me, I’d say hands down, Jon is the best lover there was, is, and ever will be. There has been no man born that can match Jon St. James in bed.”

“Here she is, Marla,” Malcolm says as he walks onto the balcony.

“Oh! She’s so cute! She’s grown so much since I last saw her! What was it? Three days ago? Look at her red hair!” Marla claps her hands together and then stretches her arms out. “I want one of my own!”

“She may be cranky since she just woke up,” Malcolm says as he walks over to the table. Malcolm is that type of parent who doesn’t want you to think his child is bad for no reason.

“I don’t mind. No I don’t…do I?” Marla says in a sing-songy voice. I look at Danielle and she’s cupping her glass of wine in her hands, a little smirk on her face, a wistful look in her eyes as she gazes off into the night.
Oh Jon, how I miss thee.
She’s so full of it. Rena smiles behind her wine glass as Malcolm hands Sunny to Marla, a smirk on his face now. I notice his head slightly nodding
;
he’s picked up Danielle’s message loud and clear. Jon was a
wonderful
lover. Danielle lets out a soft sigh into the night. Malcolm smiles wider, gives out a little laugh and then turns to leave.

“So D…” Marla says, turning to Danielle with the baby in her arms.

“D?” Rena says.

“Tell us
your
Best Sex Ever story.”

“Actually, I think my Best Sex Ever story will need to be told tomorrow morning,” Danielle says. She winks at us and then takes a sip of her wine.

              And so it continues. The girl talk. The Best Sex Ever stories…Rena’s story lasts about a half hour. Marla hints that she’s praying for me. (I think about you every night before bed, Jasmine.) Well, at least I hope that’s what she’s hinting. And for now, thank goodness, the focus is off of me and Marlon and Jacob. Because honestly, I don’t ever—and I mean ever—want to think about that topic again. I’ll take Marlon to court, get what I’m due after years of raising our kids for free, split custody of the girls and be on my merry little way. You know why? It’s Danielle’s fault. Something she told me years ago, something Lola said to her that I’ll never be forget.

              Jon and Danielle were on the brink of divorce and Danielle was trying to blame herself for everything. And you know what Lola said? When you love someone, people will have to pry you away from that person. Counseling, intervention… people who are relentless in their pursuit of another need professional help. Because people in love
are
relentless; when someone wants you, they want you. If love is
this
powerful,
this
forceful, then he doesn’t love you if he can walk away from you. And if he doesn’t love you? Let. His. Ass. Go. 

JON

              “Well
,
I wasn’t expecting this,” Danny says as she stands in her doorway. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe.

              “I came here to see Marla,” I say to her as I roll my eyes at her. I was expecting Blair to come to the door, not Danny. I got a call about thirty minutes ago that Marla was on Danny’s balcony with Rena and Jasmine. I waited about twenty minutes before I headed up here, debating whether or not I wanted to deal with Malcolm’s ass. I went ahead and figured it was worth it. I haven’t spoken to Marla in two months.

              I miss her.

              “Tell me, Jon, why haven’t you called Marla in eight weeks?”

              “And say what?”

              “Sorry, maybe? I don’t know. Perhaps something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry for not telling you about my vasectomy while you ran around for three years hiring voodoo doctors and drinking dandelion juice.’”

              “Listen, I got that vasectomy when you and I were married. Marla had no right to be mad at that.”

              “She wasn’t mad at that!”

              “Lower your voice.”

              “Why? Afraid someone might call the cops on us?” She raises an eyebrow.

You know what, I’m not even going there with Danny tonight. I’ve been living in relative peace without seeing her or her husband and my life has never been better. After she found her way into my condo and we had that argument about Nicky, I decided the next morning that avoiding Danny, pretending she doesn’t even exist, is the best thing for me. I’ve been focusing for far too long on my past story. I’ve been wondering far too long how things could have been different. The fact is, they aren’t. I remembered the times when I was married to Danny that I could barely stomach her. Times I forget about when I see her smiling with her new husband and new kids. The truth is that I’ve been wanting that for us. Maybe not the kids, but the happiness they seem to have. But Danny and I were never and could never be that happy.

              She was impossible to live with.

              “Listen, I didn’t come here to get into an argument. I came here to talk to Marla.”

              “How did you know she was here?”

              “I have my ways.” She rolls her eyes before turning around and leaving the doorway. I’m left there alone, rehearsing the lines I’ve decided to say to Marla. Within seconds Marla appears in the doorway. New dress. New Hair. “Wow,” I say without thinking.

              “Hello,” she says as she avoids my eyes and crosses her arms at her chest. Damn. She looks good. Actually, she looks like she could hang with Danny, Rena and Jasmine. She has that—what do you call it—
society
look to her now.

              “You look different.”

              “I feel different.” She lets out a light sigh.

              “Where have you been staying?”

              “None of your business.”

              “How have you been getting money?”

              “I work now, Jon,” she snaps at me.

              “Where?”

              “At a museum, for your information.”

              “Okay…” We stand in silence for a few moments. “Nicky tells me that you still take him to soccer practice sometimes.”

              “Yes, twice a week. I’ve arranged to come in early and leave early on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

              “That’s, uh, nice of you.”

              “Mm-hmm.” Silence.

Alright, let me just say the speech I’ve prepared.

              “Listen Marla, I first want to say that I apologize for not telling you about the vasectomy. I got it when I was stuck in a miserable marriage to a miserable person.”

              “Don’t talk about my friend.” She gives me a warning look. “It’s because of Dan that I have a place to live and a place to work. So you need to watch your mouth.”

O…kay…

              “Anyway, I didn’t tell you because I guess I was nervous.”

              “Nervous?” She looks at me confused. “Jon St. James doesn’t get nervous.” She sounds like she’s being sarcastic.

              “I get nervous when I can’t give the woman that I love what she wants.” And that gets her. Her arms slide from her chest, her faces loses that smart-ass look and now she’s looking right into my eyes. “And I figured, why call? Because, no matter what, I can’t give you what you want. Some other man can, but I can’t.”

              “If you would have told me, I would’ve understood,” she says, her voice soft.

              “You wouldn’t have.” I know Marla. She wouldn’t have left me after hearing of my vasectomy but she damn sure wouldn’t have been accepting of it. “Now, about wanting custody of Nicky… First, let me say that I’ve dropped the issue, but this is the thing: Nicky, Danny and I, no matter who else she marries, who I date or how many other kids we both have, will always be a family of three. The three of us are for life. We’ll have issues, arguments, whatever. But that’s between us. We’re a closed family; there will never be another member. What happens between the three of us is between the three of us. So, while I know you and Danny are friends and you were mad that I
didn’t tell you about wanting custody of Nicky
, that was a family matter. I’m not trying to—what’s the word—hurt your feelings. But it’s how it is.” She looks away and bites the inside of her cheek. “Just like if you and I had our own kid, that would be our family and no one, not even Nicky would have a say.”

She leans against the doorframe and crosses her arm. “Well. I guess I don’t know what to say.”

I run my hand over my face. I’m about to get to the point of the matter. I came here to patch things up. I came here to offer Marla another alternative for being happy with me. “I need to go to LA.
tomorrow
.”

              “Something wrong with the family?” She looks concerned in a way that Danny never was about the members of my family. I like that. I reach out and tug on a lock of her hair.

              “You really look nice.”

              “Thank you,” she whispers.

              “Seth had his baby.”

              “Oh, did he?” She smiles. There’s that concern again. I smile back at her.

              “He did. And he’s asked me to take him and I’ve decided to do it.”

              “Oh my God!” She puts a hand over her mouth.