The St. James Technology Group
From the Desk of Jon St. James, certified: PMP, OCP, OCA, MCDA, PMI
Jasmine,
Get well soon.
-Jon
From the Desk of Senator Demetrius Westlake
Gwyneth,
The return address on the envelope has your brother’s address because I knew you’d burn this if you saw mine. I also hear that you’re taking your mail at the Mayor’s Mansion in Cambridge. Not sure what that’s all about but I’ve got a feeling my name is written all over it.
I haven’t called you out of respect for you and Jacob’s marriage. However, I know you well enough to know that you’re either thinking of a way to castrate or kill me for what you thought I was trying to do to your marriage.
But it isn’t true.
I had no intention of seducing you. I was there as counsel for a friend. That’s all. What you and I have I would never pervert. Never. You are my first love, though many times over, you’ve assured me that I am not yours. I have a feeling I know who is.
I hope this address change is not because of me. But if it is, let me say this: Jacob was not having an affair with Jasmine. The proof is clear. Jasmine is obsessed with him. I’m not saying he’s perfect, but of all the things you could leave him for, don’t leave him for this. I also have to say, you should have seen him in the chief’s office. The fight he staged, the arrests…everything was for you. The man is scared to death of losing you and he threw everybody—and I do mean everybody—under the bus in that office. Marlon, Jon, me, and Jasmine. He told us to fuck off. Leave you alone. Get the hell out of here. And take Jasmine with us.
So, like I said, there are tons of reasons for you to leave Jacob. Just don’t leave him for this.
Love you baby,
D. West
From the Desk of Blythe and Adam Harlow
Jasmine,
This is your grandfather. You ’r e grandmother’s sitting right here and wants me to tell you that you’ve got a lot of nerve turning crazy after we put you through college to get that food degree. But you being crazy isn’t my problem. My problem is your daughter: the licking one.
Every time I turn around she’s licking my belongings. I had to outright tell her yesterday that I like my recliner dry. What’s wrong with that girl? Your grandmother says the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.
So do me a favor. Write Tiffany and ask her if she wants me to come over to your home and lick your recliner. Ask her how she would feel if I did.
Alright now, we’ll write you tomorrow.
Love You Sweet Cakes,
Grandma and Gramps
From Tiffany’s Desk
Hi Mommy,
This is Tiffany. I talked to Gramps. I’m not licking things now. Just people.
See you when you get back from the food show.
Got to go. I’m at Auntie Danny’s house and I’m about to hold Sunny.
Love,
Tiff
From the Desk of Malcolm Blair
Jasmine,
I see Tiffany’s still licking things. Let’s just say Sunday isn’t too thrilled about it.
Just wanted to drop you a line and tell you that when you get back, I’m always available for that ride.
Malcolm
From the Desk of Jacob Blair
Winnie,
The golden age is before us, not behind us. ~Shakespeare and Cadence
-Jake
WINNIE
Danny and I are in DC to have dinner with Lola.
“I don’t know why I’m even here.”
“Because you’re supporting a friend in her time of need,” I tell Danielle.
“Oh give me a break.” She takes a sip of champagne. It’s Friday, eight o’clock and we’re sitting on the veranda of McCormick and Schmick’s people watching, looking at those red trolley buses drive up and down the street with Georgetown law students and business guys in suits. “Need I remind you that Lola sent nudes to my priest?”
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. How can you and I continue to be mad at Lola for doing that when we kinda did the same thing with that slut, Jasmine? I think God sees it as all being equal. As a matter of fact, God specifically said that He doesn’t think any one sin is greater than the next.”
“He’s lying. And since when do you go around quoting God?”
“Shut up. You know I’m one of those people who, when faced with adversity, go to church to study God’s ways. And let me tell you, I’ve been going to Bible study for about five weeks now and I’ve gotta say, most of the shit Father Bianchi says is true.”
“I would hope all of it was true.”
“Which is why we should forgive Lola. That and I need to talk to someone who understands me.”
“What are you talking about? I understand you completely. I’ve been through a divorce. I’ve had a troubled marriage. I’ve been treated like dirt by a husband. I’ve felt inadequate. I’ve felt like a loser with no hope, no promises of a better life and utterly alone, abandoned and unwanted. Just like you.”
“Shut the hell up. That’s not how I feel.”
“Oh.”
“I hate you.”
“So, the only reason I can think that you’re talking to Lola is that you want to work things out with Jacob.” She raises an eyebrow to me. I let out a deep breath and take a sip of my champagne. I told Danny three weeks ago that I was going for a divorce. I promised her that this was the last time I was going to divorce Jacob. But now, call me a fool, but I’m not so sure about it all.
“Listen Danielle, divorce is a major step, especially when you love someone. Okay? I’ve been there. I’ve divorced the man I loved once before and to know that I’ve got to go through all of that again is fucking depressing. Because it doesn’t matter how betrayed you feel by someone, for every fault a person has, they usually have one redeeming quality that cancels it out. When I think of Jake, I don’t just think about him being a cheater, I look at the whole man. It’s like Amy Winehouse’s Back To Black album. I loved every song until I got to the last song, Addicted, and then I was like ‘I don’t like that at all!’ But do I hate Amy Winehouse? Especially when I love all of her other songs? No. I take the bad with the good and still rock the album from beginning to end. And even though she recorded a song that I don’t like, she’s still my favorite singer. For me, there is no other singer dead or alive that could compare to her…in spite of that damned Addicted. So as much as I hate the cheating part of Jacob, I love the other parts of him. Danny, I love that fucking man. Do you hear me? I love him.”
“I hear you…” She takes a sip of her champagne.
“So what do you do? Do you leave someone for their shortcomings or stay with someone because of their strengths? That question is really fucking with my mind, because when you’re married to someone with any redeeming qualities at all, leaving them for their shortcomings is tough as hell.”
“You think I don’t know this?” She points to herself. “This is the woman who was going to stay married to Jon St. James just because he wasn’t a cheat, he paid the bills, he didn’t slap me around, and—here’s biggest part—he was a good father. That last one was enough for me to stay married to Jon forever.”
“Jacob is so good with the kids.” I take another sip of champagne. Damn, this decision is hard.
“He is.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “And what happens if you divorce him, find another guy that’s good to you but shitty towards the kids?”
“I’ll cut his balls off.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what are you saying? Divorcing Jacob is selfish? That just because he treats me like shit but treats the kids good, I should stay with him?”
“I’m not saying that; after all, I didn’t stay with Jon.”
“No, you didn’t. You found a guy who was good to you and Nicky.”
“I did. But let’s back up a sec. Does Jacob really treat you like shit?”
&
nbsp; “What do you mean? He cheated on me with four different women! One women in our own circle.”
“He did. But let’s think about this.” She moves her chair close to me. “What are your other complaints about Jacob?” Complaints about Jake? I stare at Danielle as I try to think of an answer, the restaurant buzzing around us with clinking glasses and snickering women. What are my other complaints about Jake… “I’m waiting.”
“Shut up, I’m thinking.”
“If you have to think this hard, then there’s nothing there, Winifred.” I smile at the nickname. “And can I ask this question? Why do we humans place more penalties on sexual indiscretions than we do anything else? Can we be real here?”
“I was born real.”
“Let’s be honest, Jacob and Malcolm have tons of issues. They deal with shady politicians every day and they beg, borrow, steal and scheme to get them out of trouble. Or to get them elected into office. So, if God sees bad things equally, wouldn’t Jacob’s shadiness and dishonesty be as bad as his infidelity? Why don’t you leave him for that? The truth is that you’re assigning different values to Jacob’s shortcomings. And you’re punishing him because of it. You’re doing the exact opposite of what God told you to do in Bible study.”
“Yes bitch, but here’s the difference: I don’t give a shit how Jacob treats senators and their constituents. I care about two things: how he treats our babies and how he treats me. When he had those affairs with those women, he fucked me over.”
“Fair enough. So let me ask, what are you doing to him when we all go out to some bar near the harbor, meet up with his sisters and then you start drinking, dancing on tables, getting into a an argument with a biker, breaking the jukebox when he orders a song you don’t like, getting into a bar fight with his old lady, knocking over the tea lights on the tables and then causing a four-alarm blaze?”
“Like you should be the one talking about fires.”
“And what is it doing to Jacob when I have to beg the cop not to arrest you while one of his sister’s is making frantic calls to him?”
“Alright, I get it.”
“Then Jake gets there in record time with a wad of cash and those undercovers that he and Malcolm use and they ‘arrest you’.”
“I get it!”
“The point is that you do bad shit, too. You do things that can ruin his rep and his name. He’s running a business but you’re getting drunk and dancing on tables. You’re burning bars down. You’re beating up bikers. Sure you aren’t sleeping around on him but damn Winnie, you come with your shit too.”
“I’m gonna punch you in the face.”
“And, let’s think about this, even Demetrius doesn’t think Jacob messed around with Jasmine and yet Jacob told you the truth. And what about the other women?”
“What about them?”
“Jacob didn’t have to tell you about them, Winnie. No one knew about these women and everyone thinks that Jasmine is obsessed and deranged. He could have gotten away scot-free. And yet, he’s told you the truth. It just seems to me that Jacob is tired of the bullshit. Of his women and your bar fights. Of his scheming and your wild nights. You two have been acting like a bunch of college kids. Maybe he’s ready to grow up.”
“Winnie? Danielle?” Danny and I look away from each other and see Lola standing at our table, her stomach round, her silky white maternity shirt draping elegantly. She looks the part of a senator’s wife these days: glossy hair that’s perfectly bouncy, an American flag pin over her heart, red lips that reveal a perfect smile. Danielle kicks me under the table. I pinch her leg.
“Ow,” she whispers.
“Look at you!” I say as I stand, walk around to Lola’s side of the table and give her a hug. She even smells like a senator’s wife: powdery.
“Three more weeks!” she says with a huge smile. Her teeth are perfectly white; her smile appears camera ready.
Flash!
“You know DC,” Lola says as she shrugs off the picture just taken of us.
“It’s the same in Boston,” I assure her.
“Danielle,” she says, a hint of awkwardness in her voice. Danielle smiles but it looks fake as hell, she never was a good pretender. “You look great,” she says as she takes in Danielle’s figure which, according to the genes of Elise and Danielle Rouge, has bounced back to its normal shape within a mere eight weeks. Danielle doesn’t say thank you, she just nods and continues to fake smile.
“Stop the fake shit,” I say out loud to Danielle as I make my way back over to my seat. We need to break the ice here. I’ve come to discuss serious business. Danielle instantly drops her smile.
“I don’t like you, Lola,” Danny says as she sits back in her chair.
“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear these past five years,” Lola says as her bright smile fades into an even face. A regular Lola face. “Can I just say one thing?” she asks as she takes a seat.
“Sure.”
“I was a woman over the edge when I met you.” I take a seat and then a sip of my champagne. “I was desperate and mad and just…insane with anger.”
“At Cadence.”
“Yes, at Cadence.”
“However, you took it out on me.”
“I used you to take it out on Laura. And for that I’m sorry.”
“You sent naked pictures to my priests,” Danny says as she leans into the table. “This is the man that I have to see every day until the day he dies. This is the man that christened me. This is the man that confirmed me into the Catholic faith. This is the man that I see every Wednesday for confession and every Thursday for Mass. This is the man that directs my son’s Christmas and Easter plays.”
“Danielle,” Lola says, her voice filled with desperation, “what can I do?”
“Nothing, Lola. Nothing. You can do nothing.” Danielle’s voice starts to rise.
“Danny,” I say quietly. She stares at Lola and then sits back in her seat.
“Listen,” Lola says, “Cadence and I are having a girl.”
“Oh congrats!” I say. Danielle shoots me a nasty look. “Shut up,” I tell her. “The kids have nothing to do with our shit, you know that.” And it’s true. Nicky and Roman both come here to DC to spend a week with Lola and Cadence each summer. Danielle rolls her eyes at me.
“And you just had a little girl,” Lola continues. “And though Laura has daughters, they’re older. What I’m saying is that our little girls will be the same age and they’ll be first cousins. These are Cadence and Malcolm’s only girls. Can we please try to work our issue out? For our girls?” Danielle takes a sip of her champagne. She’s not the forgiving type, she’ll tell you that in a heartbeat, but her weakness is her kids. Lola just played her cards right. Silence falls between us as the clatter of the restaurant hums around us. A waitress comes to us to take Lola’s drink order. She orders Pierre with lemon, I order another champagne and Danielle orders another glass as well. Then our table is silent. Just the brief flash of cameras surrounding us. I believe this is the first time Danielle has ever sat down and talked to Lola about that incident so long ago.
“Have you had a baby shower?” Danielle eventually asks, her voice low.
“Some of the Republican senators’ wives will be throwing me one next weekend,” Lola says with a shake of her head. “I’m sure it’ll be boring.”
“You can bet on it,” I say. I’m a Republican because I was born one and because I married one, who was born one as well. But make no mistake, I’m a certified RINO, a republican only because it’s good for the Blair family business.
“Well, maybe we can pull the girls up here to DC,” Danny says as she takes a casual sip of her champagne. “Winnie, me, Jacob’s sisters, Dena. If you have some of your family or sorority sisters you want to invite, you can let Winnie and me know.”
“Oh my God!” Lola says as she gives a little clap. “That would be amazing!”
“Hell yeah,” I say. “We’ll shut this damn town down.”
/> “Then it’s settled,” Danielle says. “Week after next we’ll be back up here. I’ll find the place and get the invitations out. Tell Cadence to head up to Boston. We’ll make a weekend of it.”
“Thank you,” Lola says with her eyes filling with tears and her voice cracking.
“Glad that you two are on the mend,” I say as I down the rest of my champagne. “Very inspiring. But I’m about to leave the only man I’ve ever loved so can we move on to business?”
“Absolutely,” Lola says as the waitress returns with our drink orders. We wait for her to place our drinks on the table and leave. “So, if you’re anything like me, you both hate and love Jacob. You want to leave him but then again you don’t. And you want some advice from me, a woman whose marriage had been fucked up for a while until one day I looked at Cadence and said: this is where it ends.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Well,” Lola says before taking a sip of her Pierre. “Let’s start at the beginning. You do know that Jacob only married you, for the same reason Cadence married me, right? Because he was forced to. Can you admit that, Winnie? Can you admit, just as I have, that our husbands didn’t choose us but that their parents did? That they did not love us first, as we loved them?”
This is about to be a tough conversation.
MALCOLM
We’re at Nicky’s voice lessons.
“Could be better,” Roman says. He’s sitting on the right of the teacher’s piano, on a stool, peeling an orange, the trash bin right below him.
“Roman, I’m working,” Nicky warns him. He’s sitting on the teacher’s piano stool , next to his teacher, as she plays the chords to Mary Had a Little Lamb.
My brother-in-law, Cameron, who’s five years old, pats me on the arm. I look at him, watch him close his Highlights Kids magazine and place it gently on his lap. He then discreetly motions for me to come closer. I do as instructed. Ginger, who’s on my lap, looks like she’s leaning in too.
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