An Island Affair

by Monica Richardson

“I don’t give a damn about your reelection. My mother told me that you are my father and I wanted to come see you for myself. I thought you might want to know that you had a son out there. Thought you might be happy to know that.”

  “Do you understand who I am? Not only am I a public figure, but I’ve been happily married for almost forty years...”

  “Yes, I know. I read it on the internet. Marjorie, right?”

  “This would kill her,” said Wells. “My wife is not well.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt your wife or your campaign or any of that. I came because I wanted to meet the man who I recently found out was my biological father. I wanted to see you for myself. I thought that if I met you, I would somehow feel free and complete.”

  “Were you expecting me to be overjoyed by this news, son?”

  “I don’t know what I was expecting,” I said, “but certainly not this.”

  “How do I even know with any certainty that you are my son?”

  “Because I look just like your ass!” I stood and grabbed Jasmine’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  “This would ruin my career. It would ruin everything that I’ve worked hard for. Can’t you see that? If the media gets ahold of this, I won’t even be considered for another term. The folks in my district are conservative. They won’t understand this. My family wouldn’t understand.”

  “My mother didn’t want me to come, and now I see why. I have no idea what she ever saw in you. Good day, sir.”

  “I won’t let you ruin me,” he managed to say before I slammed the door in his face.

  I didn’t leave the meeting feeling free at all. In fact, I felt all but free. Somehow I’d thought the reunion would end more favorably and that the feelings that had caused my turmoil would go away. But they didn’t, and I had a new set of feelings. Unfamiliar ones. I felt rejected, disrespected, and wanted to punch something. I thought of punching the silver elevator doors, but didn’t want to risk being hauled off to jail.

  “At least you know what a jerk he is.” Jasmine tried to ease the pain, but nothing she said helped.

  “I don’t know why I came here,” I spat.

  I drove quickly through the side streets and hopped onto the interstate, heading straight for the airport as fast as I could get us there. I was silent in the car and the whole trip back to the Bahamas. I wondered how long it would take me to recover from this. I just didn’t know.

  Chapter 16

  Jasmine

  “Are you going to the Grove tonight?”

  “No.”

  I tried again. “I was thinking about spending the night there. Maybe broil a couple of steaks, baked potatoes, open a bottle of merlot.”

  “I’m going to my hotel.”

  “You have to eat, Jackson. You haven’t eaten a thing all day. Maybe we can stop over at Ma Ruby’s for a burger or something.”

  “Not hungry.” He sat in the back of the taxi with his arms folded across his chest. It was the first time we’d spoken since our flight left Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport.

  “Maybe I can come to your hotel with you.” I was grasping at straws. I hated the way I felt at the moment; it reminded me of the old Jasmine—the one who’d gravitated toward toxic relationships with men who couldn’t have cared less about me. It was hurtfully familiar.

  “I just want to be alone.” His words pierced my heart. He addressed the taxi driver. “Take me to the Coral Sands Hotel, please.”

  The driver did exactly that. When we pulled up in front of the hotel, Jackson stepped out of the cab and handed the driver the fare.

  “Please take her to the Grove. It’s in Dunmore Town. She can direct you there,” he said to the driver and then stuck his head inside the back window of the cab. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jasmine.”

  “Are you kidding, Jackson?” I asked. “That’s all you have to say—I’ll see you tomorrow, Jasmine?”

  “What else would you like for me to say?”

  “Talk to me! Tell me what you’re thinking, feeling. I’m here for you,” I pleaded and then attempted to whisper. “Don’t just dismiss me like this.”

  I watched as the driver peered at me through the rearview mirror.

  “I don’t know what I’m feeling or thinking. I just know that I need some time to sort things out.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled and then stared out the window. Tears threatened to burn my eyes, but I willed them away. “Fine.”

  I heard the car door slam and was suddenly grateful that he was gone.

  As we pulled away from the hotel, I told the driver, “Take me to the water ferry, please.”

  On the drive to the ferry, I looked down at my phone. Hoped to receive a call or text from Jackson. Wished he’d had a change of heart or at least an apology, but my phone hadn’t rung, and there were no text messages.

  I needed to go home. I needed to see my father. Needed him to help me make sense of things.

  When I got there, I found Daddy relaxing on the front porch, his legs crossed and a copy of the Eleutheran newspaper hiding his face. The cabdriver lifted my luggage out of the trunk and I rolled it up the sidewalk.

  “Going somewhere or just returning?” Daddy asked.

  “Returning.”

  I left my suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and took a seat next to my father.

  “Where you been?” he asked and then folded the paper into his lap.

  “New Orleans,” I told him.

  “Sweet New Orleans,” he said with a smile, “the Crescent City.”

  “With Jackson.”

  “Ah. The contractor fellow. The guy you’ve been gallivanting about town with.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I’ve been around the block a time or two. You can’t get much past your old man, sweetheart,” he said. “Why is your heart heavy?”

  “Jackson went to Louisiana looking for his biological father, and when he found him, the man all but threw us out of his office.”

  “I see.”

  “And Jackson was so hurt and bothered by it that he stopped speaking to me. He barely said anything to me the whole way back to the Bahamas. Do you know how long a trip it is from New Orleans to Eleuthera?” I asked. “I have done nothing!”

  “People deal with pain in different ways, Jazzy. Maybe he just needs a little space.”

  “Well, I intend to give him a lot of space! I don’t even know why I put myself out there again. Do I have the words vulnerable or desperate written across my forehead?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Then what’s wrong with me, Dad? Why do men make it their business to mistreat me?”

  “I think you might be overreacting a bit, sweetheart. Being rejected is a hard thing for a man. And being rejected by a father is even harder. Maybe the man just needs a little time to sort things out.”

  “Maybe.” I stood. “I’m going to find something to eat and take a shower. The business plan is complete, but I want to put the finishing touches on the Grove’s marketing plan.”

  “Congratulations for getting that done. I’m proud of you,” he said. “Leave your bag. I’ll bring it inside.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” I kissed my father’s cheek and then headed inside.

  After a long, relaxing shower, I locked myself in my room. Turned on a little Beres Hammond and then searched for my laptop. I figured my father must’ve forgotten to bring it inside. I found Daddy in the kitchen, his legs extending from beneath the sink and a wrench grasped tightly in his hands. He was attempting to repair the kitchen sink.

  “Daddy?”

  He bumped his head on the cabinet as he stuck his head out to look at me. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  “Did you bring my laptop in with my oth
er bags?”

  “Didn’t see your laptop. Only the luggage on wheels.”

  “Well, it was with the other bag.”

  “Nope, just one bag, sweetheart. You only had one when you got out of the cab.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “Shit!” I said. “I mean shoot! Sorry, Daddy.”

  He chuckled and then popped his head back underneath the sink. My father had no earthly idea that my entire life was on that laptop. Everything that meant anything to me was all there. My photos, music, documents—very private documents. And moreover, the Grove’s business and marketing plans and all the hard work I’d put into them were now floating around somewhere. There was no way I would be able to reproduce them in such a short period of time.

  I needed to retrace my steps and figure out where I’d misplaced my life. I didn’t remember having my laptop on the plane. The last time I remembered seeing it was at the hotel. Or maybe it was in the rental car. Perhaps I had it when we went to the mayor’s office. I couldn’t be certain of anything. Dealing with Jackson’s grief had me out of sorts, and I was quickly coming unglued. Without that business plan, I would be a failure in the eyes of my siblings forever. They would never trust me again. And I knew it.

  Chapter 17

  Jackson

  I was consumed with the Grove. My goal was to complete this project well ahead of schedule, and at the rate I was working my men, we would accomplish just that. I had gotten off course—allowed Jasmine to distract me, and I needed to refocus. Additionally, I needed to wipe any memory of Patrick H. Wells from my mind. I wanted to forget that I’d ever met the man, and in order to do that I had to immerse myself in my work. Work became my refuge.

  When my phone rang, I barely heard my Jay-Z ringtone.

  “Edward, what’s up?” I answered.

  “Fantastic news,” he said. Edward was never one to shoot the breeze or engage in meaningless small talk. He was a straight shooter: always got right to the point. “We have a potential investor!”

  “Wow. Really?”

  “Darren Spencer is an old family friend,” Edward said.

  I became uneasy at the sound of Jasmine’s ex-boyfriend’s name. I was jealous, no doubt, but hoped that Edward didn’t hear it in my voice.

  “As a matter of fact, he and Jasmine dated in high school. So we’ve known the Spencers for a long time. They’re very wealthy, and they might be interested in investing in the Grove. No doubt, in the past there was a bit of contention between the two families, but I’m hopeful that we can move past it and do business together...”

  My mind went back to when Jasmine took me past Darren’s former home. I was uncomfortable then, and I was uncomfortable now as Edward continued to talk about Jasmine’s ex-boyfriend.

  “...with their experience in the hospitality industry, they not only can offer funding, but expertise. Not to mention they’re Bahamian. Maybe Darren could even help bring Jasmine up to speed on some of the day-to-day stuff. Maybe they’ll even fall in love again. I hear that he’s on the outs with his wife.” Edward laughed. “I’m waiting for Jasmine to send me that business plan so that I can take a look at it before we send it over to them. Have you seen her at the Grove?”

  “Not in a couple of days. No.”

  “My parents said she’s been staying at the Clydesdale. I’m surprised you haven’t run into her.”

  It was true. I hadn’t run into Jasmine in a couple of days. Not since New Orleans. Partly because she’d been avoiding me, and I hadn’t gone looking for her either. I was embarrassed about my behavior the day we returned from Louisiana, and I didn’t quite know how to make things right. She stayed locked in her office for the better part of each day, and I barely even caught a glimpse of her.

  “I haven’t really been to the Clydesdale since we’ve completed the work over there.”

  “Right,” he said, “okay. Look, man, if you happen to bump into her, can you have her give me a call?”

  “Will do, bro.”

  “The Spencers will be on Harbour Island next week. I’d like to have that business and marketing plan to them by the weekend,” he said. “Also, when they get there, I’d like for you to give them a grand tour of the Grove...show them the Clydesdale and share our vision for the other two houses.”

  “Absolutely. Consider it done.”

  “Thanks, man. I feel really positive about this.”

  “That’s awesome,” I said, “and if I bump into Jasmine, I’ll have her call you.”

  “Cool. Talk to you soon.”

  He was gone. And now I had to face Jasmine. The truth was, I felt her absence, missed her presence, but didn’t know how to approach her. I told myself that I just needed a few days of space, but a few days had turned into much more than I wanted or expected. Things were awkward now. I wanted her to know that she hadn’t done anything wrong. It was me—not her.

  I knocked on the door of her office.

  “Yes?”

  I opened the door without responding. Our eyes met, and I realized just how much I missed her beautiful face.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She was all business, no affection. “How can I help you?”

  “How you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t look fine. She looked fatigued. She gave me a look of impatience.

  “I haven’t really seen you around lately. Just wanted to say hello. See how you’re doing.”

  “I’m doing great. Was there something you needed?”

  “Just...um...” She threw me off with her cold demeanor. “Edward has been trying to reach you. He wants you to give him a call.”

  “Okay.” She looked at me as if to say, “Is that all?”

  “He wants to know how you’re coming with the business plan.”

  “Not very well, considering I lost my laptop somewhere between here and the state of Louisiana and can’t even begin to tell you where it might be. My business and marketing plans are lost somewhere. So do me a favor and tell my older brother and sister that they were both right about me all along. I’m a total failure, and they should’ve hired an outside company.”

  “You’re not a failure, Jasmine. You’re a bright, capable woman.”

  “Really?” she asked sarcastically. “If I’m so bright and capable, why don’t I have anything to show for all of my hard work? And why do I keep inviting toxic men into my life who are only interested in climbing into my bed, and once they’ve gotten what they want, they move on?”

  It was apparent she had a lot on her mind. It was as if she’d been waiting for the perfect time to unload it all on me.

  “Are you referring to me?”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “First off, I think we both climbed into that bed together. And we each put ourselves out there,” I said, trying to explain my position, “and I haven’t moved on. I’m right here.”

  “That’s funny because you haven’t been right anywhere since we left Louisiana. In fact, I’ve barely seen your face in days. Haven’t heard two words from you. Which is crazy, especially since I had no earthly reason whatsoever to go to Louisiana. I only went to support you!”

  “I appreciate that. I just needed some space. Some time to absorb things.”

  “Well, hopefully I’ve given you ample space to absorb things.” She dismissed me with her eyes and went back to typing on her computer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  I opened my mouth to protest or explain. I didn’t know what to say. It was too late. I’d blown it with her. I shut her door and stood on the other side for a few moments—thinking about what I should’ve said or what I could go back in and say. So many thoughts raced through my head. I pulled her door open again.

  “Jasmine
, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did,” she said.

  “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” I said and then pulled her door closed again.

  My heart ached for her. I hoped I hadn’t lost her for good. My heart wanted to fight for us, but my mind said we were better off this way. I sighed and then headed out the front door. I told myself that my life was much less complicated without a woman in it. Especially a complicated woman like Jasmine Talbot.

  I walked over to the Talbot House. The work there was midway complete. The linoleum had been removed and the original hardwoods refinished, the wiring and electrical done, the walls primed. The Talbot House required more work than the Clydesdale had and demanded more of my time and attention to the project, which worked out perfectly. I worked long hours and weekends and literally collapsed into bed every night. And tonight would be no different. In fact, I looked forward to my comfortable hotel bed.

  “Everybody’s going to the fish fry tonight. You game?” Lance asked as he came up to me. He was filthy, with dust all over his face and clothing.

  “Nah, I have other plans. Maybe next time.”

  “What plans?”

  “I’m going over to Ma Ruby’s and grabbing one of those world-renowned burgers to go and a Bahamian beer. I’m going to step into the shower, eat and crash.”

  “Sounds boring,” said Lance. “Not hooking up with Jasmine?”

  I had never discussed Jasmine with Lance or the other guys, but obviously they knew that something had gone on between us. Over the past several weeks and long before the New Orleans trip, there had been an apparent change in my attitude, and I’d become less of a workaholic and more carefree.

  “We all know about you and Jasmine,” Lance said when I didn’t respond.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yes. Neither of you are very good at sneaking around together.”

  “I really don’t want this to change how we do business with the Talbots. If her brother Edward knew, he might not understand...and I really need this gig. I have a lot invested.”

  “Hey, bro. It’s me, Lance. We’re friends, remember? I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your livelihood or mine, for that matter. I’m actually a little pissed that you didn’t tell me the truth. I had to figure it out on my own.” He silenced his ringing phone. “I thought we were better than that.”