Once they returned to Jasmine’s apartment, Jermaine asked for permission to use the computer, and then decided to e-mail his daughter a letter. The letter read: I hope you come off your high horse and come back down to earth and accept the reality of having a new stepmother. Regardless of the lies and bullshit that people have fed you and Maurice about Karen I’ll always love her no matter what, so please accept that. Indeed, you are my daughter and I will never deny that, but now I’m about to get married and you’re about to have a new stepmother so like I said, please acknowledge and accept that. I hope you have not changed your mind about going to my wedding in Las Vegas on Valentine’s Day. I hope to see both you and Maurice there.
Sincerely, with unconditional love, Your Father
Jasmine was used to her mother only having thug boyfriends who did not work or contribute to their wellbeing, but instead hang out on street corners and liquor stores smoking dope and drinking.
Jasmine and Jermaine exchanged phone numbers, embraced in a hug, and then afterward Karen and Jermaine left.
Jasmine appeared to be a respectful, ambitious young lady. Having a two-year-old daughter and an unemployed boyfriend whom she had been in love with since middle school did not prevent or distract her from striving toward success or from excelling in life. She was now in her second year of nursing school and had been manager of McDonald’s for two years. Despite of her living in a low-income environment, she drove a brand-new Nissan Altima, dressed nicely every day, and kept a positive attitude about things. Jasmine had A-1 credit and was also very good at saving money.
In the past, both Marvin and Jasmine had been taken away from Karen by the courts because of her drug addiction, instability, and because of her repeated criminal convictions. Thank God that Karen’s sister Jewell stepped up and went to court to get full custody of them, not wanting them to be raised in a foster home. Marvin had been diagnosed with brain damage, which was a result of falling off a rooftop at the age of seven. Doctors had no choice but to place a steel plate inside his head. He was slower in school than kids his age, and had to be placed in a slow-learning classroom. The state rewarded Karen a check for seven hundred and fifty dollars each month for Marvin, which was turned over to Jewel after being awarded full custody of him. After a few months of Marvin being in Jewell’s custody, Karen, along with just about all of her family members, knew that Jewell and her husband were using Marvin’s check for the benefit of their own kids and for themselves. While Jewell’s kids dressed in name-brand, fashionable clothing, Marvin wore raggedy attire and worn-out shoes. Jewell’s intentions in the beginning were good until influenced by her husband, who had never worked a day in his life.
While Jasmine lived with them, even though they received a welfare check for her, they treated her bad and talked to her very impolitely. Karen’s kids did not get treated the same as their own.
Jasmine, being the clever young lady that she was, moved out of Jewell’s house the day she turned eighteen. Her boyfriend Raymond’s parents had accepted her with open arms. They were glad to see that a young lady, who was so intelligent, so determined and ambitious, have an interest in their son. They hoped that someday Jasmine’s positive energy and determination rub off on their son. They sensed that one day she was going to make something of herself.
After getting the green light to move back into his home, Jermaine went and bought expensive new furniture for the entire house. He also purchased five state-of-the-art DVD players, two HP computers, two Fisher stereo systems, a 60-inch plasma screen television, three 27-inch televisions (one for each bedroom), an oak desk to beautify his home work area, and also a thirty-five-hundred-dollar bedroom set for the master bedroom. The other three bedrooms were already completely furnished.
The following day Jermaine purchased a thirty-five hundred dollar wedding ring for Karen and had also bought her a beautiful wedding dress that cost him a little over twelve hundred dollars. Karen had come up with the idea of renting a dress, but that’s not what he wanted.
“Sweetheart, I want you to have this dress for the rest of your life. I want you to look at this dress once a year and tell me how you feel about our marriage,” Jermaine had said to her.
Chapter 5
It did not surprise Jermaine or Karen that Denise and Maurice did not show up at their wedding. Other than the minister who married them, Jasmine, accompanied by her boyfriend Raymond, and Jermaine’s sister Elaine, escorted by her boyfriend Matthew, were the only ones present at the wedding.
“As long as we have each other, babe, that’s all that matters to me. Having you makes me feel like I own this whole world and everything that’s in it. I love you so damn much, Karen, and I just wanna thank you for being my wife,” Jermaine said sincerely, while holding her hand and looking into her eyes. She had never met a man so sincere.
She responded with a long, meaningful hug, followed by a significant kiss that triggered him to think, Damn, she really loves me.
Karen’s appearance was absolutely stunning on that day. Jasmine was bewildered by her mother’s beauty and so was Jermaine. Her beige wedding dress gripped her petite body so perfectly, revealing her rounded butt, while the split going down its sides revealed her thighs and smooth legs. Her hair lay neatly down her back and shoulders with Shirley Temple curls at the ends. Her huge smile reflected happiness and her walk indicated pride. This was the happiest day of her life.
Later that evening everyone decided to change into something more comfortable, and then hit the gambling floor. Unfortunately, five hours later, the newlyweds had come out on the losing end after inserting over five hundred dollars into the slot machines. Luckily, Jasmine won over a thousand dollars. Being the person that she was, she gave her mother and Jermaine three hundred dollars as a wedding present. By that time the newlyweds were tired and ready to call it a night, so off to their room they went. They were so happy and in high spirits about now being husband and wife that even a blind person could notice.
After a few drinks of Hennessy, the newlyweds topped the night off with some good, pleasurable, everything-goes sex. Then they fell asleep.
Instead of being at her father’s wedding, Denise was getting ready to leave for the San Diego stadium to be entertained by numerous reggae groups. Being that Maurice was Jamaican, the thing he loved aside from his family was his music. When he and Denise had first met, Maurice was a drum player for a popular reggae group. He enjoyed dancing, playing drums, and just about all the exciting things that America has to offer, but one thing he did not like was being crossed, especially by someone who claimed to be his friend, or by someone he had helped in one way or another.
Up until the time that shit start hitting the fan at Denise’s residence, things had been going quite well with Denise, Maurice, and Jermaine. But lately, especially after receiving that letter, Denise and Maurice felt that Jermaine was being influenced by Karen to sway away from them. Together, they had made the decision not to be a part of Jermaine’s wedding.
“I know that’s your father, Denise, but the way I feel about him right now, fuck him and Karen! How in the fuck is he gonna turn on us after all that we’ve been through! He can’t even come talk to us like a real man; instead he e-mails you some stupid bullshit like we’re the ones that’s wrong! Why should I go to their wedding and pretend like everything’s all right when I know it isn’t! And I know that bitch had something to do with me being shot, but I just haven’t put it all together yet,” Maurice said.
“I know she did too, baby.” Denise said. “And it’s a damn shame that my daddy don’t see through her deceit and bullshit. I’ll never claim her as a stepmother! Never!”
“I know what’s wrong with him, babe; the muthafucka is pussy-whipped. I thought he was smarter than that. How in the hell does he think he can turn a ho into a housewife? That bitch sucked his dick like a real pro and now he’s hooked and blinded from reality.”
“He’ll find out about her in due time, though, and then he’s gon
na come crying back to us,” said Denise.
“Why should she get a job when all she has to do is fuck and suck him when he comes off the road and live like the goddamn queen of the United States? She sleeps until noon every day, and then she wakes up and starts watching Jerry Springer, Maury, and Judge Joe Brown. What kind of fuckin’ life is that?”
After that discussion, Denise and Maurice made their way to the reggae concert.
Tyrone was as hot as fish grease. Day after day, while under the influence of alcohol and PCP, Tyrone plotted to get revenge on Karen. The cuts were so deep on his penis that he had to have several stitches and a few surgeries.
“I’m a gangsta!” he shouted after coming home from the hospital.
“Ain’t nobody gonna get away with doin’ no shit like this to me! I’m gonna kill that bitch, I put that on my hood, I’m gonna kill that bitch!” he repeated as he rubbed ointment on his wounds.
After smoking a couple of joints and turning up a forty ounce of Olde English 800, Tyrone then made two quick phone calls to his homeboys. He could not put this off any longer.
“I’m fixin’ to do the damn thang, you know what I’m say-in’. Yeah, I’m about to handle my fuckin’ business!” He was talking to himself.
Tyrone, accompanied by two of his most ruthless homeboys, was packing an AK-47 assault rifle, a .44 magnum, and a fully loaded 9mm as they headed to Lancaster in a stolen vehicle. A 2Pac CD motivated them to commit violence and so did the chronic, the PCP, and the Olde English 800. An hour and forty-five minutes later, Tyrone and his crew stood pounding on Denise’s apartment door. “Who is it?” asked Denise, wondering who in the hell was disrespecting her home by continually pounding. “This is Killa T. I need to holla at you a minute.” He held the gun behind his back keeping his finger on the trigger. The sound of an unfamiliar voice caused Denise to alert Maurice, who hurriedly appeared at her side. “Who the fuck is it?” Maurice yelled, in his accented voice. “Killa T, nigga. Let me holla at you a minute, cuz!” “That looks like the muthafucka that shot me!” Maurice said, glancing through the peephole. Then quickly he ran to the bedroom and grabbed his pistol from underneath the mattress.
“I am the muthafucka that shot you, man! Listen, nigga, I didn’t come out here to trip on y’all, I just wanna holla at y’all a minute! If you want war, nigga, we prepared for that too, but it ain’t y’all I come for; I came for that bitch, Karen. And don’t try nothing funny, cuz, ’cause you’re in a no-win situation,” yelled Tyrone.
Denise attempted to call the police, but Maurice quickly stopped her and then slowly opened the door. Maurice was now standing face-to-face with the man who had recently tried to kill him. Instinct told him that the gangsters did not come to harm him which caused him to hold his gun at his side.
“Check it out, cuz. I apologize from the heart for shooting you, you know what I’m sayin’? I made a mistake, homey, and I’m glad that you ain’t six feet under. That’s on my hood, homey. I thought you was that nigga who was fuckin’ around with my girl. When she told me I had shot the wrong person, you know what I’m sayin’, I regretted it, homey. Now I said what I had to say about that and hopefully you can forgive a nigga.” Tyrone then initiated a handshake.
“You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ nerves coming back over here, man!” yelled Maurice, angrily.
Seeing that Maurice was getting heated, Tyrone’s homeboys revealed their weapons.
“Nigga, I told you that I didn’t come here to trip on y’all, but nigga, if you want some drama, then fuck it, we can do the damn thang. I keep tellin’ you, cuz, I came here for that bitch! Now let’s put these guns away and talk like men, you know what I’m sayin’?”
After everyone had put away their guns and had somewhat composed themselves, Tyrone began boldly enlightening Denise and Maurice on his relationship with Karen. He made sure not to leave out the fact of Karen cutting up his penis.
After hearing this, Denise hated Karen even more. She could not wait to tell her naive-ass father.
“I knew it, I knew it, I fuckin’ knew it!” Denise yelled. “That’s why she made that comment at the hospital saying that ‘Maybe they thought you were somebody else.’ That bitch knew who had shot you all along.”
Maurice stood, nodding his head, not knowing how to respond.
“When I catch that bitch I’m gonna fuck her up for what she did to me. She can run but she can’t hide for long! Anyway, I feel for your father ’cause he’s getting played like a muthafuckin’ piano, but maybe after you holla at ’im about what I just told you, maybe he’ll wake up and smell the coffee. Later, I’ll holla,” Tyrone said. Then he and his crew left.
When Denise told Jermaine about what Tyrone had revealed to her and Maurice, Jermaine did not believe one single word of it. Before Denise could actually finish telling her father what she’d discovered, he hung up in her face. Jermaine immediately brought up the accusations to Karen, but like always she denied everything. Afterward, she gave him a head job and a ride that was so good to him that everything his daughter had told him was erased from his mind.
The following weekend, Karen came up with the idea of having a party. Even though Jermaine was not the party type, he went along with it to grant his wife’s wishes. Actually, the real reason Karen wanted to throw a party was to invite relatives and friends who talked about her when she was down and out, on drugs, and a low-rate prostitute, to see how she was living today. She wanted them to see how God had blessed her with a good husband who loved her and her kids, how she was fortunate to be living in a four-hundred-thousand-dollar home.
Denise had revealed to all of her family members what she had found out from Tyrone and unfortunately, when Jermaine had invited a few of them to the party, they all had made excuses for not being able to come. Even though the majority of Jermaine’s family had not met Karen, based on what Denise had told them they disliked her and had no intentions of meeting her.
There were lots of people from Karen’s past at the party. She had even gone to the extent of inviting a couple of her tricks and exes, but had introduced them to Jermaine as long-term family friends. Without question, he believed her.
DJ Groove was on the mic and the turntable keeping the party rocking. Hennessy, Remy Martin, gin and juice, pizza and buffalo wings were on the menu, all compliments of Jermaine.
Some people were dancing around the pool, while some were swimming. Jermaine smiled and nodded when seeing a couple have shameless sex in the pool. There were two couples inside the Jacuzzi and others were dancing on the patio, in the kitchen and living room, in the backyard, and even on the stairwell. Karen was dressed in a long peach dress that matched perfectly with her golden necklace and sparkling bracelets, which were both filled with diamonds. Her appearance was totally stunning. All eyes were on her, and the greater part of the conversations were about her. She paraded through her home sipping a glass of Hennessy, smiling and grinning and enjoying the attention she was receiving. Even though she had very bad credit, no money in the bank and nothing to show for her forty years of living, on that day she felt like a million bucks and a queen.
Jermaine was sporting a green short suit and had a pair of matching leather sandals on his feet. Even though he had never been much of a dresser, he still proudly owned a large walk-in closet filled with three-piece suits of all colors, jeans, Dockers, football and basketball jerseys, and he also had a collection of shoes for whatever the occasion might be.
The fact of Jermaine purchasing all the liquor for the party did not influence him to drink any. He was content sipping ice-cold water. He believed in keeping a sober mind at all times. He was a thinker and did not want his thoughts, plans, or decisions to be made while under the influence. Karen would sometimes tell him to loosen up a bit, but he would always respond, “Please, just let me be me. So far, I have been truly blessed and successful being who I am, thinking the way I do, and doing things the way I see fit, so please, sweetheart, don’t knock my style, just roll wit
h it and I can assure you that you will never regret our being together.”
Jermaine socialized with everyone like he had known them for years. Every so often, while engaged in conversation, he would scan the room looking for his wife. He suddenly had the urge to kiss his wife and dance with her. Little did he know, she had disappeared with three of her old acquaintances. They had gone inside the restroom upstairs and were smoking crack. It had been a while since Karen had taken a hit, and when she was offered one, instead of saying no, her response was, “One hit won’t hurt.”
“Excuse me for a moment, Lewis. I’ll be right back, okay? Hell, I’ve only been married a little over a week and already I’m missing my wife. I’m in love, man.” Jermaine had no idea that Lewis was one of Karen’s exes.
Watching Jermaine walk up the stairwell, Lewis thought,
I wonder if that nigga know that his new wife has sucked and fucked damn near every drug dealer and crackhead in Pasadena. Damn, I can still remember how good she can ride and suck a dick. He smiled and grabbed his crotch while reminiscing.
Jermaine had asked each group of people had they seen his wife, but no one had seen her within the last forty-five minutes. Then he searched inside of every room both upstairs and downstairs, but still no signs of his wife. As he headed back toward the stairwell he heard voices; female voices. The voices were coming from inside one of the rest rooms. Slowly, he neared the restroom door, listened for a moment, and then knocked gently.
“Sweetheart?” Jermaine called out. “Karen, are you in there?”
She was paranoid as hell. After taking one hit, she wanted another, then another, and then another until she was totally fucked-up.
“Is Karen in there?” Jermaine asked again.
“Huh?” replied Karen in a low whisper.
“All I want is a kiss and a dance, baby, that’s all.” Jermaine said sincerely, dumbfounded to what was really going on.
Marriage Mayhem Page 7