by Cynthia Dane
Yeah, right.
By Monday, word had spread. Jasmine made the grievous mistake of going downtown to consult with Jenny on wedding matters. Everywhere she went, people whispered. “Did you hear what Jasmine Bliss did to Hyacinth Winchester’s priceless tablecloth?” People laughed when she walked by. Others expressed their concern that she had ruined her fiancé’s business prospects for at least a year. “That’s what he gets marrying a used mare like her. If he has any sense, he’ll cut her a nice check and send her on her way. Do you think he has a thing for brunettes? Because I volunteer to be the next future Mrs. Cole. I hear he’s hung as fuck, too.”
Jasmine was in tears by the time she returned home Monday night. She hid it from her staff and parents, all of whom were in the guest house anyway – apparently Belinda had gotten over her reservations regarding the hippie nudists and now entertained them in the evenings. Although she requested they wear some underwear before sitting on her couch. Last Jasmine heard, they were drinking beer and playing Taboo. She could almost hear their uproarious laughter in the main house.
Ethan told her she was overreacting. He had already moved on from the incident. After all, hadn’t Jasmine embarrassed him in worse ways before? But Jasmine could never live this down. She was no longer the no-name assistant her boss sometimes boned on the side because his dick had to go somewhere. She was Ethan Cole’s fiancée. There was no room for mistakes anymore. Yet it seemed the harder Jasmine tried, the worse she made their collective situation. Ethan offered to “make her feel better,” as his hand got friskier than it deserved, but Jasmine turned him down for the first time in a long while. She wanted to sleep forever.
So on Tuesday morning, she decided to not get up. Fuck getting up.
“You all right?” Ethan asked, buttoning up his shirt as he readied for work. “You sick?”
Jasmine rolled away from him, clutching his pillow in her arms. “I don’t feel good, no. Leave me alone.”
Ethan bent down and kissed her before he left. “Why don’t you come down to the penthouse tonight?” he cooed. “I’ll spoil you, in all the ways you like.”
Jasmine must have felt really shitty, because none of that sounded appealing at all. In truth, she wanted Ethan to go the hell away. All he did was remind her of what happened, how she had fucked up, and how much she didn’t deserve to have a man like him in her life. He was way too forgiving. A normal man would have chewed her out until she was in tears.
Instead, Jasmine would do that in her own head.
She knew she had no business being Ethan’s wife. Until now, she had managed to ignore the feelings in the back of her head, weighing heavy in her heart. Until now. Seeing the way Hyacinth looked at her, judging her, silently informing her that she had no place in her world… it could have been anyone who suffered that, but it was Jasmine. If that ordeal weren’t some sort of sign that she should pack up everything she had and head to the farming commune with her parents, well, what bigger sign could there have been?
Speaking of her mother, that was the last person she wanted to see late into the morning. Nevertheless, Luna burst the door open, wielding a key she probably stole from Belinda – because Ethan always locked the door behind him, whether Jasmine was in there or not.
“What’s going on in here?” she asked, sinking on the far end of the bed while Jasmine groaned into a pile of pillows. “Ethan told me you’re not feeling well. What is it? Cramps? I’ve got stuff for that.”
“I don’t want pot!” Jasmine couldn’t believe she had to say that. “Sorry… I don’t feel good, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel good in the head.”
“Uh oh.” Luna scooted up the bed. Whether she was clothed or not, Jasmine had no idea yet. I hope she is clothed if she’s dragging ass on my bed… “What’s going on, Jas? There ain’t nothing I’ve never seen before.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Luna patted her on the back. “Ethan said something about an incident on Saturday. What happened? You can tell me.”
Thanks, Ethan. “It’s nothing important. Just made the social faux pas of my life at some really rich woman’s house.”
She didn’t expect her mother to understand, or to say anything other than terrible things about the rich elite. That was her bag, after all. Apparently Luna had her mother hat on before all others, though, so she was quick to take a different route with her thoughts. “Start from the beginning. Let’s work this out.”
Sighing, Jasmine rolled onto her back and looked at the muumuu her mother wore. Good. Clothes. Luna’s gray hair was loose on her shoulders and down her back, making her look a good ten years older than she actually was. “It’s a long story. There’s a lot going on.”
“Good thing I have all the time in the world today. Your father is driving to meet an old friend of his and I decided to stay here and hang out with you. If you’ll have your old, funky mother, that is.”
Jasmine didn’t know where to begin. So she began with Ethan proposing to her.
Before, Jasmine hadn’t gone into any in-depth details regarding the sort of things Ethan did for her. Partly because her parents had weird opinions on things, and partly because life was easier if she never brought them up. Jasmine had no idea how her mother would take to finding out that her future son-in-law was a capitalistic pig of epic proportions. Nor did she know how Luna would take to her daughter being regularly tied up, blindfolded, and fucked as if she were some rich man’s plaything. Well, I was. For as often as Luna and Saul proclaimed that they were down with whatever in people’s personal lives, things were different when it came to their fair daughter Jasmine. Luna said it herself when she lauded her daughter for bagging a rich guy who could take care of her for the rest of her life. Sure, Luna would have preferred Jasmine making her own money, but wife of a billionaire worked too.
Jasmine told her many details, but went light on the kink aspect. All she said on that front was, “We have a very healthy and imaginative sex life.” She also didn’t hold back that they met because Ethan was her boss for a few months. Whatever Luna thought of that, she didn’t mention… although her lips suspiciously pursed and she pushed Jasmine’s hair behind her ear.
As opposed to going on about her relationship, Jasmine focused on the external issues at hand. The wedding. The pressure to find people and pick out things that didn’t work for her. Constantly embarrassing herself in front of Ethan’s friends and business associates. When Jasmine talked about what happened Saturday afternoon, however, she expected her mother to express confusion as to why Jasmine cared so much about what some old woman thought of her.
Instead, Luna patted her daughter’s knee and said, “I’m sorry, Jas. That sounds like a terrible day, all right.”
Jasmine sat up straighter, Ethan’s pillow propping her against the headboard. “You don’t think I’m crazy or materialistic for caring about this stuff?” That’s what her mother would have said if Jasmine were still in high school. Well, the materialistic stuff, anyway. Luna had the monopoly on crazy between the two of them.
“Honey, no. I may not personally feel bothered by such things but… I don’t live the life you do. If I were going to marry a man like Ethan, things would be very different in my life. See, I’m not willing to live a life like that. Not even for love. Did I tell you about Carlos?”
Jasmine shook her head. “Do I wanna know?” Was Luna cheating?
“He was a while before I met your father. After I graduated high school, I went on that road trip with my friend Debbie. Along the way, I met a very fine young Hispanic man named Carlos. He nearly changed my life.”
“Oh?”
“I was in love with him in an instant. Real love. To this day I can testify to that. We met in a cute little café where we talked about politics, art, culture and language… well, let’s say I learned a lot of Spanish that month.”
Jasmine pulled the covers farther up along her chest, resting her chin o
n top of the edge. “Go on.”
“The way we met, I thought he was from a working class family like mine. We agreed on so many things and he lived a humble lifestyle, after all. When he asked me to go to Mexico with him, I was ready to say yes. Then I found out that he wasn’t one in a thousand Carlos Garcias. He was the Carlos Garcia, of the Garcia line of multi-millionaires outside of Guadalajara. He didn’t work because he didn’t need to, not because he had something against the capitalistic idea of working a man to death for a non-living wage. His mother alone was sending him thousands a month. When he asked me to go to Mexico with him, I found out that it was to meet the patriarch of his family, who had an affinity for, well, gringas. I’m sure they were all very nice people, but I couldn’t imagine living that kind of lavish lifestyle, in any country. I don’t want maids. I don’t want someone to cook for me, unless it’s a community affair or I’m a guest in someone’s home. That doesn’t mean I look down on people like your fiancé, who live that sort of life, whether by want or necessity. I simply do not want to live like that. I like simple.”
Jasmine nodded. Simple was an understatement. If she couldn’t get it homemade, Luna didn’t bother. Jasmine had a lot of… questionable outfits until she was old enough to get a job and shop at the local mall.
“You’re not me. You have always wanted more. To see the world and how other people live. Your father was wary of letting you go to the city, but I told him that it was your life and your own path to forge. Children are either like their parents or the exact opposite. If this is you being the opposite of us, then it’s not so bad. Ethan is a clever, kind man it seems. I trust your judgment. If he makes you happy and treats you well, as your mother… that’s all I can ask for! I also understand that you want to do things to help his business. That’s natural. But, honey… haven’t you considered something very crucial?”
Silence fell between them. No. No, Jasmine had not considered a damn crucial thing. She had been too busy feeling sorry for herself.
“Everything you talk about is Ethan, Ethan, Ethan. Or if it’s not about Ethan, it’s about trying to impress these other people you don’t even like! What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?” Wasn’t it obvious? She wanted to help Ethan…
“I mean what are you going to do with your life? What happens after the wedding? Do you take up the mantle of a businessman’s wife? Do you spend all your days kissing ass… or do you go into seclusion, because you can’t stand the pressure? I can’t imagine you wanting to live either kind of life. It doesn’t suit you. I’m not saying don’t marry the man if you can handle what it throws your way, but you can’t make your life all about him!”
Jasmine sucked in her lips, waiting for it.
“Damnit, Jas, get a life!”
She fell over, eyes staring blankly in front of her as her mother got up and smoothed out her muumuu. “You’re a good, compassionate girl, Jasmine. Perhaps too good and compassionate. You give away too much of yourself, especially if it’s for someone you love. You can’t do that. You can’t live like that. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. Listen to your mother about this if nothing else… if you give everything left in your youth, your life, your vitality and your soul to these people, you will have nothing left for yourself. I’ve seen it happen to others, and I can’t bear the thought of it happening to you. Trust me. Doing something for yourself… and you seem to have the means now to do anything you want… will give you more confidence anyway, because your existence won’t be wrapped up in what others think of you. Do something you’re proud of. Something that expresses your creativity. Anything other than what I’ve seen you do since I’ve been here… which is nothing short of being someone you’re not!”
Jasmine tossed back her covers. Her mother interrupted her before she could speak.
“Is it terrible that you’ve been embarrassed and hurt your fiancé’s business prospects? Of course it is! But he’ll recover. You will move on. You live, you learn, you take your lessons and turn them into something that will stay with you forever. That’s the benefit of getting older, honey. You learn what really doesn’t matter and enjoy your life more. Because the older you get? The more you realize there isn’t much left. You have to make time for yourself. You have to find things that make you happy, damned what others think. It’s great that you have a good relationship with a man who adores you, but what are you doing for yourself? I love your father like the moon loves the stars, but I can’t revolve my life around him. We live on the same small farm, but I have friends I talk to far away from him every day. We have different hobbies. He loves sporting around while I would rather create things.” Luna shrugged. “If I spent every hour of every day involving your father and his intimate world, I would go crazy! There isn’t even any pressure that comes from that like it does with you!”
Whatever tone Luna used, it inspired Blackbeard to make a grand appearance from Ethan’s office across the hall. He sauntered in, mewled at his human grandmother, and sat between them with his tail swishing as always. Jasmine leaped down and scooped him up into her arms, burying her face in his warm, silky fur as he began to purr against her body. Sometimes he was good for something other than being a foot warmer.
“Oh, don’t worry, hon. Like I said, you’re still young. You’re also going through a phase of transition. In a few months, you’ll be able to focus more on what you want outside of your marriage. I’m ramming your ass about this right now because I don’t want to check in with you ten years from now and find out you’ve ran yourself ragged trying to always get down on your knees and bend over backward for people who ultimately don’t mean anything to you. Make changes now while they still have power to transform your life.” Luna smiled for the first time in five minutes. “I brought my Tarot deck if you would like a reading. Maybe we can figure out what path you can take.”
Normally Jasmine would have declined, but hearing her mother’s admonitions, warnings, and words of profound love had melted her inside. While stroking her calm kitty, Jasmine managed a wan smile and said, “I’d like that. We could have lunch in here, if you don’t mind.”
Luna came over and pet Blackbeard as well, his eyes slowly closing in eternal feline happiness as he soaked up this attention. “Sure thing, honey. Let me go get my deck.”
Jasmine lay back down, clutching Blackbeard close to her until he couldn’t take it anymore. By the time Luna returned, carrying a wooden box, the cat had made a break for the far end of the bed, where he now curled up and gave himself a bath that lasted the duration of Jasmine’s tarot card reading.
She didn’t take much stock in tarot or other forms of divination. She just wanted to spend some time with her mother, the only person who recognized what it was Jasmine truly needed.
Some sensed knocked into her skull.
Chapter 13
Jasmine agreed with her mother that changes needed to be made. If there was one thing every rich housewife had in common – not that Jasmine saw herself as a future housewife, mind – it was some esoteric or equally broad hobby that kept them somewhat sane when dealing with the pressure their husbands’ lifestyles brought them. Monica had her business and a deep love for the lifestyle she lived. Gwen, if Jasmine listened to the rumors, still moonlighted as a sought-after bartender at many upscale clubs and was currently writing a cocktail cookbook. Back west, Nala was going to school and lived a low profile enough life to go out and do whatever she wanted. Lana, while not a housewife by any stretch of measure, made flirting and seduction her main hobby outside of work and marriage – and had one of the biggest shoe collections anyone had ever heard of. While I’m thinking about it… Kathryn was the farthest from being anyone’s housewife, but she had her charities that she was passionate about.
What did Jasmine have?
Nothing.
Okay, so she didn’t have nothing, but she didn’t have her own business, and she didn’t have some all-encompassing hobby to spend time on. Jasmine didn’t cou
nt playing first-person shooters, whether in co-op or solo. She also didn’t count playing with or grooming the cats, taking strolls through the garden and woods, or shopping. Those were fun in short bursts once in a while, but they weren’t things that fulfilled her emotionally or spiritually.
Luna was right. Jasmine had to stop clinging to her relationship and all the external drama it brought. She would never be able to avoid being Mrs. Ethan Cole and the accompanying trappings. Jasmine would have to continue to do her best to be a model wife of a billionaire when it was pertinent… but she couldn’t let it control her. She couldn’t let it cloud her mind and turn her into someone she wasn’t. Damnit, her mother was right! Jasmine hadn’t done anything meaningful just for her in much too long.
Before, it was about survival. Her life revolved around the next job, the next paycheck so she could pay rent and have some food to eat without drooling over the cat. When she ran herself down doing that, she turned to the video games and window shopping for quick fixes. They were escapism. They weren’t meaningful.
Now that Jasmine didn’t have to worry about work, she had to find something else to do with her life. Even though she knew she should focus on this after the wedding, she couldn’t help but think about it constantly over the next couple of days.
She was downtown on Thursday, having met with Jenny and finally choosing a baker for the cake and other goodies. Jasmine was sent home with fresh cake samples for Ethan to try out later when he returned to the penthouse from work. The man had already texted her to announce he was having meetings all day, so there was no point in going to the office. So Jasmine put on the bravest face she could muster and went to her favorite upscale restaurant, where the staff pretended she had experienced no recent social gaffes but everyone else patronizing the place gasped at the sight of her.