Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2)

by Dianne, Shannon

  “It’s one thing if we did this to Laura out of duress, but Laura didn’t do anything! No wonder Malcolm is trying to kill our asses!”

  “Listen, I know that I’ve put us in a sticky situation–”

  “Danielle, don’t talk to me.”

  “Rena–”

  “No. Don’t talk to me.”

  “See why I didn’t want to tell you?”

  “Shit, I’ve got to hurry to Baton Rouge and unfreeze Laura’s accounts.” She floors the gas pedal and I throw one hand to the passenger door handle and the other to my seatbelt.

  I’m glad that Rena now sees the importance of unfreezing Laura’s accounts but something is telling me that she’s waited too long. I just have that feeling.

  Danielle

  9 a.m.

  Baton Rouge

  “Shit, finally here.”

  “What’s the roadblock all about?” I ask as I roll down my window and strain my head out of it. I know it’s supposed to be warm here right now, but there’s a sharp chill in the morning air. “Goodness, it has to be about forty degrees out here right now.”

  “I think there was a fender bender near the border.” Rena says, beating on the steering wheel like it’s a bongo drum.

  “Ah, the Mississippi/Louisiana border! It’s been so long since I’ve been to Creole Country!”

  “I know, I miss this place. The first place I’m going, after I head to the hotel’s business center and then take my ass to sleep, is to The Chimes.”

  “Oh hell yeah!”

  “Remember that!”

  “Of course!”

  “We’d drive all the way up from New Orleans for their po’ boys.”

  “Yeah, we’re definitely going there … I’m glad you’re talking to me again Rena. Like Maya Angelou says–”

  “Shut the hell up. Looks like we’re about to move.”

  “Good. Georgie’s probably pissed back there.”

  “Twenty-four hours in a car? I’d say he’s pissed.”

  “Well I took him out and let him stretch his skinny little legs.”

  “I know, he needs some meat on him.”

  “Are you still feeding him rice in his milk because–”

  “Good Morning …” We both hear a man’s voice say before we hear a knock on Rena’s window.

  “Shit!” Rena says. We’re on the run, exhausted and jumpy, the last thing we need is a knock on our window from a random security officer. Why the hell is he knocking our window anyways?

  “What the hell?” I ask as Rena rolls her window down. And then I see that it’s not a security officer, it’s a cop.

  Oh. Shit. Malcolm is out to get us. Rena was right!

  “Officer?” Rena says.

  “Rena Beauvais and Danielle Rouge?” He asks as he bends down, looking into the window.

  Damn, we’re going to die in Louisiana, the one state Rena didn’t bank on dying in. Life sure does have a way of surprising you.

  “Yes.” Rena chokes out.

  “Right here.” The cop says as he turns his head and looks over his shoulder.

  The cop moves out of the way. And there, in the distance, dressed properly in a wool trench and gingham scarf with his hands his pockets and a smirk on his face is … Jacob.

  “Ladies,” Jacob says as he strolls towards us, “I thought we all agreed on Hilton Head.”

  Malcolm

  Noon

  Angie and Wynston Blair, my mother and father (or Queen and King Blair as they’ve always hoped to be called), ceremoniously flew into Boston late last night. After Lola burned your home down, with Cadence inside of it, I figured I’d come see what the fuss is about, my mother said this morning as she was accompanying me to a courier office to express a package to Red. You’re a comforting presence mom, I said to her in an imperceptible mocking tone, I’m sure you can help resolve this. She gave me a polite smile. Why thank you, my love, she responded. That was one hour ago. And now …

  “Shut the fuck up!” She screams over Lola and Cadence, who are sitting next to each other on a sofa, arguing. Dad, Rossi, Eva, and I are seated nearby on some chairs and couches, scared to death.

  Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Angie and Wynston Blair. Let me just give you some background on these two and then allow you to make your own assumptions. When my mother and father are in town, they demand that their home be addressed as Blair House. My mother and father are the type of people who think that naming a home is a symbol of royalty and prestige: White House, Windsor Castle, Blair House. This is perfectly logical to them. I’m sitting with everyone in the living room. But when my mother and father are in town, we must refer to it as The Royal Ivory Room. Let me explain, because this all makes sense, trust me. All of my mother’s favorite comfort foods are created in shades of white or ivory. Therefore, the entire room is decorated in ivory because my mother considers herself ‘unique minded’ (as opposed to simple-minded) and decorating a room in a shade of all of her favorite comfort foods proves just how unique minded she is. She’s certain that no one else has thought of doing such a thing. If you’re wondering, her comfort foods that are created in shades of white are: eggs, chocolate, sugar, milk, mushrooms, pudding, rice, bread, and ice cream. Funny, some of those foods are among my favorites too, but in my mind they always appear in shades of brown. (I’m flirting with you, ladies. I know it’s the wrong time to flirt. I can hear you all right now: Not now Malcolm, focus! Sorry, let’s get back to the matter at hand.) Everyone’s head is following my mother as she walks around The Royal Ivory Room, looking at three flat screen TVs attached to the surrounding walls.

  “What’s arguing going to do, huh?” My mother asks Lola and Cadence. “Look at this.” She points to the three televisions that have Boston News 4, Boston News 5 or Boston News 8 on them. Though News 8’s broadcast is the only TV that’s turned up for us to hear, the same thing is showing on all stations. Laura’s picture is plastered over all of them with the captions reading: Fiancé turned mistress burnt out of home owned by former lover, Attorney Malcolm Blair. Please don’t ask me what I think about this; I don’t think I even need to say anything. I believe it’s pretty clear that, after operating off of five hours of sleep within two days, I didn’t want to wake up to this shit. “Unbelievable.” My mother says as she stops pacing and glares at Cadence and Lola, who are currently shutting the fuck up.

  “… Attorney Blair and Laura Rossi were presumably a happy and so called ‘it’ couple in Boston,” the newscaster on News 8 says, “before they had a fairly private breakup and he met Danielle Rouge, a leading Boston feminist.” Images of Laura and me, smiling and attending balls and galas with her dressed in silk gowns and me in tuxedos and cufflinks, flash on the screen. But that’s not what I’m focused on. I’m focused on the fact that they’re mentioning Danielle … they’re leading up to something. I can feel it.

  My phone buzzes.

  Jacob 12:02 pm: Just landed in Hilton Head with Danielle and Rena.

  Me 12:02 pm: Make them both happy.

  Jacob 12:02 pm: I got you bro

  Jacob’s my right hand, there’s nothing like having a brother.

  “Mom I’m sorry I got us into this.” Then we’ve got this muthafucka. “It’s just that a man’s heart–”

  “Oh Cadence, give it a break!” Lola screams over him, turning to look at him face to face. “So it’s your heart that makes you fuck my sister? My sister Cadence! I go to New York for one weekend to get away and relax and you run to Boston to screw my sister?”

  “Well did you have to go and burn her house down because of it?”

  “That was quite silly, dear.” Eva says. “You don’t see me running around burning down Cynthia’s home.”

  “Here we go.” Rossi says.

  “I told you that I didn’t burn that house down!” Lola yells at the top of her lungs.

  “Oh Lola, let’s use our inside voices.” Eva says with disappointment.

  “Please Lola, everyone in this room
knows you burned that house down!” Cadence says.

  “I was in New York!” Lola screams.

  “Prove it Lola! Where’s the receipt from the hotel? Who were you with? Who can prove that you were in New York and not in Boston trying to murder me?”

  Lola says nothing. She covered her tracks so that Danielle’s stalking wouldn’t be traced back to her. Therefore, she has no proof that she was in New York. If she did, when this meeting was summoned by Queen Angie, Lola would have come prepared with a manila folder filled with flight and hotel receipts, proving that she was in fact in New York during the fire. When she walked into The Royal Ivory Room empty handed, that let me know that she had covered her tracks so well, she has no alibi. Good plan, wrong timing.

  “You know Lola, this thing with Laura is not about lust.” Cadence says. “This is about human beings sharing an experience of love and–”

  “Give me a breeeeeak!” Lola yells at the top of her lungs as she drops her head back and shakes her hands in the air.

  In all honesty, I should be choking the hell out of Lola right now but I have to admit, Cadence can drive anyone to the brink of insanity. Everything in his life begins and ends with love. Love this, love that, love her. I agree with Lola, give it damn break.

  “Life is not about romance and fun. It’s about duty and getting shit done! It’s about respect and power. You need to take a lesson from Malcolm.” Lola says.

  “Ah, well, Malcolm has a whole lot of me in him.” My father says with deep satisfaction. He grins, crosses his legs, and raises his glass of scotch to me. “Power first, pussy second. Good boy.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cadence says to both of them. “Malcolm sends notes and flower petals to Danielle all the time!”

  “Oh, fuck a flower petal!” Lola says.

  “Oh brother!” Cadence says as he drops his head back onto the couch.

  “Where did you learn that language from?” Eva asks Lola.

  “Malcolm,” Rossi says while looking at his cell phone, “what do you think I should tweet on Twitter today?”

  “Well don’t mention Lola burning his house down.” Eva says as she looks at him checking his phone. “And who are you texting? Cynthia?”

  “Good lamb of god! Eva, I’m talking about twittering and looking at my phone! What do you think I’m doing?”

  “Why does romance have to be so magical to you?” Cadence asks Lola, “Why do you have to make it appear as though it’s a fantasy? Love and passion are real. It’s every day and it’s real. Laura knows that. In fact, that’s the very reason you burned her house down.”

  “I did not burn down her house!” Lola says as she looks at me, her face still beaming red. Sorry, Lola, if I tell the story, I’m telling the whole story. Either way, you come out guilty. Either way, you’re the root cause of that fire. You’re also looking at a few charges: breaking and entering, harassment, theft, stalking, financial fraud, grand theft auto, defamation of character and duress. But regardless, I’m not bringing Red’s name into this. I’m not here to save you; I’m here to save her. So, you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.

  I look away from her.

  “You know, Cadence and Lola,” Angie says, “you two should just take the plunge and put a hyphen and a Jo behind your names, because the both of you are simply trashy.”

  “Yeah, well, Cadence didn’t get that from me.” My father says.

  “And we still have no idea where Laura is?” Angie looks around at us all. Each one of us begins to shake our heads no. There’s no point of telling everyone about Laura and Cynthia; Jacob and I lost her so we’re still at square one. Plus, I don’t need my parents interfering. I’m leading this case, Red is my client, no one is privy to the detailed specifics of her case but me and the person I have assisting me. Jacob. And now that I believe Red has not only burned my house down but has also gotten Rena to freeze Laura’s accounts, this entire issue has become surreal. Who the hell knew that Red had so much power? Shit, her ass needs to be on my payroll. “Well this should be fun.” Angie smiles. “Because you do know that wherever Laura is, she’s bound to show up sooner or later. And when she does, chances are she would have been off of her meds for days.”

  “Great.” Lola says as she rolls her eyes. “She shouldn’t have the right to walk the streets alone.” Really, Lola? But my mother has a point. Unlike Red, the last thing I want is for Laura to show up on my doorstep drug free. “I mean, ever since she and Malcolm broke up she’s been diagnosed with hypomanic episodes, generalized anxiety, depressive reaction and attention deficit disorder.”

  “Ah, well, Malcolm’s a lot like me.” My father says. “He knows how to drive a woman crazy.” He nods at me and raises his glass of scotch.

  And once again, I’m struggling with the fact that this entire situation is probably my fault. I had my eyes on Rossi from the moment I went to law school. He was a weak link in the political chain; I sniffed him out like a rabid dog and then infiltrated his need for a clean-up guy. He needed help, I gave him that help and to mark my territory, I took his daughter for myself. I found out later that keeping Laura happy was a full time job. But, being with her enhanced my power with Rossi and it catapulted me into the position that I’m in now: Lead Counsel to Senator Carlo Rossi, a presidential hopeful. As a thirty year old man, I’ll admit to the indiscretions of my twenty year old self. I don’t condone it, I’ll just admit it. I grew a conscience about my using Laura as time passed by; my goals turned into guilt and that guilt eventually turned into I-can’t-do-this-shit. I used Laura. I’ve been trying to atone for that sin, going on eleven years. There is no love for Laura, there are no bitter-sweet memories that I want to hold on to. There’s only duty and atonement.

  For Red, there’s love. Lola is wrong, I do believe in love. I just don’t get all stupid about it.

  “Cadence, I do hope you’ll come to your senses one day my love, before Lola and Laura end up killing each other.” My mother says. “You, my dear, are not Laura’s Prince Charming. You are the man she’s dating in the beginning of the fairytale. You know, the one who thinks he’s the perfect lover and friend, but even the kids know he’s a dumbass? Malcolm is Laura’s Prince Charming: aloof and totally unavailable.” She smiles again. “I mean darling, the real Prince has to be unavailable in some way or another or we wouldn’t have a story. Right?” Cadence looks at my mother and then away. Lola smirks.

  Silence … think about that, Cadence.

  “Now Lola, I do admire your spunk, but I think the fire was a bit much.”

  “I did not start that fire.” Lola says, crossing her arms tighter against her chest.

  “Sure you did, and if you didn’t light the match, you surely created the spark. So Lola and Cadence, you’ll fly to Hilton Head with the family, you’ll smile, you’ll be happy, you’ll act like nothing is going on. Jacob, Winnie, Nat, Dena, and Malcolm will stay at Pat and Kyle’s house.” Aunt Pat and Uncle Kyle are Jacob’s parents, the Mayor and First Lady of Cambridge, Massachusetts. “Cadence and Lola will stay with Wynston and me at Kingdom of Blair.” That’s the name of my parent’s summer home. “When we get there, I don’t want anyone upsetting Danielle’s family. I’m sure they’re already peeved that their daughter’s name is being sullied here in Boston. They’ll already be on edge; Lola and Cadence, we don’t need you two aggravating them with talks of adultery and arson.”

  “Ugh.” Lola grunts.

  “Wow mom, you want me to smile after this woman almost killed me?” Cadence says.

  “Fuck you! I haven’t tried to kill you yet!”

  “And here we go again with the language.” Eva says.

  “You want me to pretend to feel safe with a woman who would burn her own sister’s house down? You want me to sleep peacefully next to a woman who’s hell-bent on murdering me? You do know that I’m the type of person who likes to sleep with both of my eyes closed, don’t you? You want me to be scared to even eat my food out of fear that she’s trying t
o kill me with it? Is that what you’re asking? Because it sounds like that’s what you’re asking.” Cadence says.

  “Wow Cadence, you finally got something right. Now, I want us all to keep our eyes and ears open for Laura. Malcolm said that she isn’t using her bank accounts, which means one thing: someone has taken her in. Find out who, shut that person up, bring Laura back, dope her up and then we’ll decide what to do with her later. She won’t change our plans; life does not revolve around her condition.” My mother rolls her eyes; it always bothered her that Laura was possibly born with an uncontrollable genetic condition that isn’t subject to Queen Angie’s rule. “Malcolm, if Jacob or Nat have to fly out to Boston to get her, make sure it’s done at night and with Jim. Carlo will hold an interview this week so that this fire story will die down; neither one of our families need the negative press, especially over Laura and her condition.” She rolls her eyes again. “Malcolm, call Jacob and Nat because you three have to come up with Carlo’s speech, do not leave this up to his speech writer. Also, I don’t want to keep Danielle’s parents waiting for us in Hilton Head so I want this done by seven p.m. tonight because at eight, we head to Hilton Head to have a lovely vacation.” She takes a breath, claps her hands together and smiles. “So let’s hop to it!” We all slowly get up to follow Queen Angie’s edict. “Now, now … Don’t forget Rule Three!”

  And then we all force out a smile.

  “… We are now learning that Danielle Rouge may have been married at the time she met Attorney Malcolm Blair. Jon St. James is Ms. Rouge’s former husband and father to their only child. Blair and Rouge are said to have met through Lola Blair, wife of Attorney Cadence Blair. Cadence Blair works at Rouge and Associates, law firm of Attorney Jackson Rouge. Consequently, Jackson Rouge is the father of Danielle Rouge … there will be more as this story progresses.”

  Oh. Shit.

  Danielle

  12:15 p.m.

  “Rena!” I hear Matt screaming through the phone. “Alright now! What in the hell’s going on? You told my black ass to fly to Baton Rouge and now that I’m here, you’re telling me that you’re in Hilton Head?”