An Island Affair

by Monica Richardson

  “I need you, Alyson. I need my sister. I’m so alone in this world.”

  “I’m here. You never have to feel alone again.”

  I rested my head on my sister’s shoulder and we cried and rocked for a few more moments before I went back to my seat. I didn’t want us to be escorted from the premises. We both laughed a deep, hearty, alcohol-filled laugh, embarrassed for having caused a scene in Alyson’s favorite place.

  After our food arrived, we ate off each other’s plates and enjoyed every delightful morsel together. We each had three more mojitos and then tried to sober up with an after-dinner café con leche—a shot of Cuban coffee with milk.

  We sat in Alyson’s favorite café for what seemed like a lifetime, talking and laughing and catching up on old times, discussing how we’d missed out on so much of each other’s lives. The last real conversation we’d had was during our adolescence. Beyond that, I didn’t know my sister and she didn’t know me. Somehow, we’d gotten stuck in time, both too stubborn to make amends. But that had all changed now.

  Once we were sober, Alyson maneuvered her BMW back toward her downtown condo. Once there, it wasn’t long before we both fell asleep on her leather sectional—she at one end and me at the other. The doorbell jarred us from our slumber. Alyson looked as if she’d been in a street fight as she answered the door.

  Jackson cautiously stepped inside.

  “Are y’all okay?” he asked. Devante stood close behind.

  I undoubtedly looked as if I’d been in that same street fight.

  “We’re fine,” Alyson answered.

  “Couldn’t be better,” I responded.

  “Okay,” he said. “Are you ready to go? I wanna get on the road before nightfall.”

  “Of course.” I stood. “Just let me run to the bathroom first and freshen up. Then we can go.”

  “Linen is in the hall closet,” said Alyson.

  I stopped in the hallway, grabbed a washcloth. In the small powder room, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyeliner and eye shadow were smeared across my face. With warm water, I washed my face, refreshed my makeup and combed my hair. I smiled at the woman who smiled back at me in the mirror. Today had been a good day.

  I gave my sister the longest hug goodbye. Didn’t want to let go.

  “I love you, Jazzy,” she said. She rarely ever used my family nickname. In fact, she always used my birth name and said it with such contempt. But today, I was Jazzy.

  “Ditto,” I said.

  “Text me when you get to Key West.”

  “I promise.”

  * * *

  As Jackson merged onto US-1, he looked over at me with those ravishing eyes.

  “I’m not even going to ask what just went on back there,” he said.

  “Just know that it was something very, very wonderful.” I smiled.

  It was the last thing I said before resting my head back and sleeping the entire way to Key West. I didn’t even remember dropping Devante off at home. I missed telling him goodbye.

  Chapter 21

  Jackson

  “Do you play bid whist, Jasmine?” my mother asked, sipping on a vodka tonic.

  “Are you supposed to be drinking, Mother?” I intercepted her question to Jasmine.

  It hadn’t been long since her surgery and I was concerned that she’d gone back to sipping alcohol too soon.

  “I’m just having a little taste, Jax. Nothing more. I’m enjoying my night and my family,” my mother said. “Come, Jasmine. Let me see you.”

  Jasmine did as my mother asked and walked over to the side of the card table where she sat. She laid her cards facedown on the table and grabbed both of Jasmine’s hands.

  “She’s pretty, Jax.” She patted the empty chair that rested against the wall. “Here, sit next to me, honey. You’ll be my good-luck charm.”

  Jasmine took the seat next to my mother. My brother Drew sat across the table from Mother. He was her card partner. My brother Sean and John Conner sat in the opposite two chairs. I gave Jasmine a look of apology, which she dismissed. She seemed comfortable there, as Mother began to explain the game of bid whist to her.

  I had been nervous about taking Jasmine to Key West to meet my family, and particularly my mother. My family could be judgmental and opinionated. Sometimes even embarrassing. My mother had a special sense about people. She could see right through them. She’d know what their intentions were long before anyone else knew. And she wasn’t afraid to call them out. Mother could give me a look from across the room and I’d know exactly what she was thinking. So far, though, I hadn’t seen that look. Instead she gave me a smile of approval as she and Jasmine became cozier by the minute.

  Saturday nights at the Conner household were never boring. There was always card playing, music, good food and laughter. Sometimes it would be just family, sometimes other relatives and friends, but there was always something going on. There would always be a keg of beer in the kitchen and John Conner was usually out back nursing the barbecue smoker. It was during those times that he bonded with his sons, over the barbecue grill. He taught us some of our greatest lessons while slapping sauce onto a slab of ribs.

  Al Green crooned on Mother’s old stereo. On that old stereo, you might hear the blues, gospel, New Orleans jazz and even classical music. Sometimes my mother would sing and my brothers and I would join her. We had all inherited her gift of song. The music could be heard throughout the two-story traditional home in Old Town. After Katrina, I had assisted Jett Prim in the renovation of the property. We’d installed Brazilian cherry floors and custom kitchen cabinets. We’d also built a deck that surrounded the home—it was an anniversary gift to them. The home was gorgeous and a very comfortable place to have grown up in.

  Drew was the only one to return home after college. Eli had gotten married and made his home in New York. Sean returned to Florida and landed a job at an engineering firm in West Palm Beach. Although he’d purchased a waterfront property near his office, he still commuted to Key West just about every weekend. My home was not far from my parents’. However, they rarely saw me because I was always working and often traveling. And after the whole ordeal of discovering that John Conner wasn’t my biological father, my presence here was almost nonexistent. In fact, this was the first time I’d stepped foot into the Conner household since then.

  Nothing had changed much, besides the fact that my mother rearranged the furniture on a regular basis. She was never satisfied with things, which I guessed was part of the reason why she’d stepped out on John Conner those many years ago. Always looking for something better. I assumed she’d finally learned that the grass wasn’t always greener on the other side.

  I poured myself a beer and one for Jasmine, who was now seated across from my mother at the table. She had become Mother’s bid-whist partner, and she seemed to be handling her own in a game that she’d learned only less than an hour before. She’d even followed my mother’s lead and commenced to talking trash to the other team. Soon, the four of them seemed like old friends.

  “She’s sexy, Jax,” said Drew after he’d been dismissed from the card table. With a sly grin on his face and his hand on his chin, he asked, “You serious about her?”

  “Very,” I said. I knew exactly where he was going with that question.

  Drew loved women—of all shapes, sizes and colors.

  “Seems Mother likes her,” he said.

  “It does seem that way, doesn’t it? Jasmine’s a very likable woman.”

  At that moment, she caught my eye from across the room and I gave her a kiss in the air. She winked.

  “Mother never liked anybody I brought home.” Drew took a sip of his beer. It seemed he’d had one too many by then. “But then, you always were her favorite. You could bring King Kong home and she wouldn’t care.�
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  “That’s not true. She never liked anyone I brought home before now.”

  “Well, now that I think about it, I guess you’re right,” he laughed, “because she couldn’t stand that girl Denise.”

  He laughed but that was a sore spot for me. I’d wanted her to like Denise so badly, just to make my life easier. I was never going to have a future with Denise—that was apparent, but I needed some peace while the relationship lasted. And my mother had refused to give me that.

  “Yeah, she hated Denise, didn’t she?”

  “Mother is a hard woman.”

  “She just loves her boys and only wants what’s best for us.”

  “I’m glad to see you back here, Jackson. Mother and Dad missed you something crazy. Daddy has nothing but mad love for you. I mean, I don’t know what this guy in New Orleans is like, but he’ll never love you like my father does. And that’s a fact, Jack.” He started to walk away. “Now let me go show these folks how to play some cards.”

  He stood next to John Conner at the card table and motioned for him to relinquish his seat.

  “Come on, Jax, and play some cards!” said Mother.

  “I’m fine, Mom. I’m going to step outside on the deck and have a word with John,” I told her. She smiled. It was a conversation that she’d encouraged for so long, and I was finally prepared to have it. It was one of the reasons I’d come home. I had a few things I needed to say. “Can you step out here with me?” I asked him.

  “Of course.” He poured himself another beer and then followed me outside to the deck that I’d helped build.

  I took a seat in one of the easy chairs, crossed my legs wide. John took a seat across from me.

  “What’s on your mind, son?”

  This time when he called me son, it didn’t anger me or make me defensive.

  “I went to see that Patrick Wells dude,” I told him.

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, “and how did that go?” John Conner never got excited about anything. He was a calm man.

  “He pretty much rejected me and threw me out of his office. I guess I got what I deserved for popping up on him like that.”

  “You didn’t deserve to be lied to and kept in the dark,” he said. “And I’m sorry for being a participant in that. You had a right to know, Jackson.”

  “Yeah, I did. But I’m past that now,” I told him. “I brought you out here because I want you to know that I appreciate your being my father for all these years. Teaching me everything that I know, encouraging me when I was down, showing me the value of a good education. Not only did you teach me how to be a man, you demonstrated it for me every single day. And I’m grateful.”

  John Conner became choked up. He turned his head away from me, looked out into the yard at the palm trees swaying in the wind as tears crept down his cheeks. When he’d gathered himself, he turned back to me. “I’d do it all again. You’re my son.”

  “Why do you think my biological father rejected me?”

  “Who knows, Jackson? Some men are cowards. They’re only men when others are watching or when they’re in the public eye. Real men do what they have to do no matter who’s watching. And they own up to their mistakes. And they right their wrongs,” said John Conner. “But you can’t worry about the next man, Jackson...”

  It was a phrase that I’d heard often. It was instilled in us as boys. You can’t worry about the next man.

  “You can only do what you know is right,” I said, completing the sentence.

  “Exactly.” He smiled, pride covering his face. “You’ve done your part, son. Now he must do his, whatever that is.”

  “I love you, Dad,” I told him and meant it. All four words.

  As he stood and reached for my hand, I stood and gave my father a hug.

  “I love you, too, son,” he said.

  “Where do we go from here?” I asked.

  “We pick right back up where we left off. We don’t miss a beat. We move forward like this never happened.”

  Tears filled my eyes as I listened to his words. When he let me go, I glanced to my left. My mother and Jasmine stood in the glass doorway, their arms interlocked. They both smiled at us.

  All was well in the Conner household again.

  Jasmine and I drove the short distance to my renovated bungalow. I hadn’t been home in some time, and I hoped that I’d left the place in decent condition. It was stuffy inside, so I immediately opened a window to allow fresh air inside and turned on the ceiling fan.

  “Make yourself at home,” I told Jasmine. “The bathroom is around the corner there if you need to freshen up or take a shower.”

  “This is cute, Jackson. It’s so you.”

  “It’s a small place, but it’s mine. I like it.”

  She dropped her shoes at the door and then took the liberty of looking around, popping her head into every room. “Where do you hang out?”

  “Right here, in the living room in front of the television set. My laptop in hand.”

  “That’s your favorite seat?” she asked about my leather easy chair.

  “How’d you guess?”

  “I just knew.” She plopped down in my chair and reclined. “It’s by the window so you can be nosy.”

  “I’m not nosy,” I told her.

  “There’s a lot going on out there, Jackson,” she said, peeking through my blinds. “I would be nosy if I lived here.”

  “Yeah, my neighbors are pretty colorful. But when I’m here, I just ignore them as much as I can.”

  “I love your mother,” she said. “She’s so funny.”

  “And she loves you. But I’m not surprised. You’re easy to love.”

  “Your family is great. Your stepdad is sweet.”

  “My dad.” I smiled. “That’s my dad.”

  “I’m so proud of you for making amends with him. He’s a good man and so are you.” She curled up in my chair, making it seem less manly.

  “He raised me, so I guess it would make sense that we’re both good men.”

  “I guess it would.” She hopped up. “I’m going to shower.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.”

  With bare feet, she padded into the kitchen and started opening cabinets and drawers—in search of something. I wasn’t sure what until she walked back into the living room, carrying several candles of all shapes and sizes. She found a book of matches and lit every candle, placed them all around the house. I didn’t even know I had that many candles. I’d used them only for light when I lost power, but as she lit them and turned on the stereo, I knew her intention was far different.

  “Which one is your favorite?” she asked, looking through my CDs.

  I walked over and pulled out a Musiq Soulchild CD. It was appropriate for the mood that Jasmine was trying to set. I popped it into my state-of-the-art system and as the music permeated the room Jasmine and I began to slow-dance.

  I pulled my T-shirt over my head, slipped out of my shoes, removed my pants, socks, and stripped down to my boxers. She mimicked me and in no time she stood in my living room wearing nothing more than a lacy bra and matching panties. She teased me by loosening the hooks of her bra. Then slowly she took it off, tossed it my way and then rushed into the bathroom. I followed and grabbed her small waist from behind. I turned her around and kissed her lips, slowly removing her panties and then my boxers.

  She started the shower and got the water just right. We stepped in together and I stood there, admired Jasmine’s glorious body as the water cascaded over her nakedness. I lathered some shower gel in the palm of my hand and spread it over Jasmine’s beautiful brown breasts.

  “Turn around and I’ll wash your back,” I told her.

  She did as I asked and then I lathered her back. I wrapped
my arms tightly around her for a moment and closed my eyes. Thoughts of our conversation the night before had plagued my mind all day. I could barely shoot hoops with Devante earlier, for thinking of it. The thought of losing Jasmine once the Grove was complete was more than disturbing. I wanted to enjoy what we had at the moment, too, but who was I kidding? I needed her in my life long-term. But I knew that love after the Grove would be next to impossible. The reality was we lived worlds apart. She was committed to the Grove and I was committed to my business. She was comfortable at her home on the islands, and I loved my renovated bungalow in Key West. It was easier for me here. Most of my work was in Florida and my parents lived around the corner. Key West was my home, and Eleuthera was hers. Too many sacrifices would have to be made, and which of us was willing to make them?

  “What are you thinking about?” She turned to face me and caressed my chest with her soft hands.

  “All the things I’m going to do to your sexy body when we get out of here.” I looked into my woman’s eyes and knew that I could never let her go.

  Maybe we could make the long distance work for us. We owed it to each other to at least try. The Bahamas was a short flight from Florida. We could see each other every weekend, and holidays, too. It could work. It didn’t have to be the end of us. I wouldn’t let it be.

  * * *

  The flight back to Eleuthera seemed long and exhausting. I held on to Jasmine’s hand the whole way. She fell asleep on my shoulder and I gently kissed the top of her head before falling asleep myself. By the time I’d awakened, the plane was on a slow descent. And when the wheels brushed against the runway, I knew we were finally home. At least it was beginning to feel like home for me.

  Chapter 22

  Jasmine

  Three months later

  I flipped through a magazine and spotted the advertisement for the Grove. A photo of the gorgeous beachfront property just about leaped from the pages. Thanks to the Spencers’ generous investment, we were able to extend our advertising budget beyond its original limit. The Grove was being advertised in world-renowned magazines, local newspapers and those abroad. We even had a television commercial spot being planned for the spring. Our marketing campaign was well under way.