Chardonnay: A Novel

by Jacquilynn Martine

  I drove recklessly as I broke down crying and cursing his name. When the fifth dude got done, it was Slim’s turn. Suddenly my body came alive. Myron would get his and he did. For a man to have to watch his precious rib seduce and tantalize his best friend was beyond painful. Myron was mentally dead. So I became the hoe he wanted me to be. I became that nasty Lexi he had sexed over and over again. I became that Shauna he let suck his balls until his eyes popped out. I had become all those hate stricken money hungry groupies he wanted me to truly be. I did all the things they had done to him to Slim. The drugs may have had me gone by then and had made me go that far, but I knew what I was doing. Myron did too. He bowed his head and tried to look away, but when Miscogey saw the lust and enjoyment in my eyes and the pain in Myron’s...he got new plans. That’s when my fear buried me. Miscogey was a tall man with a handsome but rugged face; clean shaven but had scars from his years in the field. He looked like an old G with his wife beater on and suspenders attached to Italian silk dress pants that match his blazer. He scrunched his face up as he jerked my head back by pulling my long auburn hair that I had colored back just to make Myron happy. Miscogey smelled me as Myron and I whimpered, mine sorrowfully asking Myron why and his sobbing that he was sorry. When Miscogey order me to my knees, I screamed no. He smacked me.

  “Ya lil’ dumb bitch can’t take orders. What? You think you too prissy girl? Don’t be scared of this dick...she was a virgin right?” he asked Myron who’s face had tensed up.

  He just took heavy breaths in and out.

  “I want tight pussy but I don’t want it too tight. Hope Rason and ‘nem boys did a good job of loosen it up.”

  He pushed me back and did things to my inexperienced body that most women wouldn’t attempt to do until at least their fourth sexual encounter. I was in the bed of the devil’s.

  When my memory shut down on me I could see a huge eight teen wheeler hurling directly in front of me head on. I looked in my rear view mirror at Myron’s SUV, him arguing with a driver in a Maybach that was side by side with his; the same Maybach that belonged to Jase. I looked forward as the truck honked its horn beckoning me to moving over on my side of the sleek and thin road. But to me this was fate. This was meant to be. I didn’t know when or how I had swayed in the wrong lane, but I did. The next thing I knew Jase speed his car over on the shoulder of mine and rammed my car over before the eighteen wheeler could run into me head on. It instead nicked Jase’s car and sent it flipping over. I pressed my foot on the breaks and got out the car screaming his name. Myron got out his SUV and tried to help get him out along with the truck driver from the eighteen wheeler. His car began to catch fire which through me into panic.

  “Someone get help! Oh my god! Jase! Jase give me your hands.”

  He reached out and Myron unlatched his seat belt. Looking at Jase...I could see it happing, him giving me the black diamond necklace—our forbidden love flash backed to me...My hair in its natural gold state as he bended down on one knee with the five carat ring.

  More strangers ran over to help get him out. The truck driver had Jase’s body half way out but the angle he was struck in made it hard. His neck was crooked and he began to lose conscience. A no name man with salt and pepper hair ran fast towards us hollering for us to “get the fuck away from the car”. The eighteen wheeler was a gas truck...The truck driver picked my body up as I kicked and screamed for them to get Jase out.

  Myron fought as well as two big muscular men dragged him away from Jase. If I never heard him call him his brother before—now would account for all the rest.

  “Put me down—that’s my brother! Get my brother out that fucking car!”

  I watched the gas leak run along to the Maybach and Jase hang there half aware with a blacken face from his bruises. Just as the gas leak caught fire, a fire man rushed on to the scene. Jase had a piece of paper that he was waving out as the fire man tugged and pulled, but to no avail he couldn’t get him out. The piece of paper flew out his hand and somehow miraculously landed at my feet as I watched on in horror at two fire man now, trying to get him out. I cried as I looked at the letter. It was my grandfather’s words translated. Then I heard someone say,

  “It’s gonna blow!”

  The fire men began to run off...one of them with Jase’s body over his shoulder’s. A few seconds later a ball of fire flew into the sky. I ducked as the fire man ran past Myron and I. We followed them to the spot where they laid Jase down on the ground checking his vitals.

  “Whats your name, sir?” one of the fire man asked.

  “Ja—Jasen...Von..Von.”

  “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.” I said touching his face.

  “You—you read the letter yet?” he asked altruistically.

  I shook my head no.

  “I—I think you need to read it...now.” he said as they put him on the stretcher. I kissed his face before they took him off and turned to see Myron bending over near his SUV. He put one hand up on the side of it as he breathed in and out heavily from the dreaded evening that unfolded. I took the letter in my hands and closed my eyes as I folded it up and put it in my pocket. I couldn’t read it alone. I knew looking at a letter my grandfather had left for me beyond the grave would call for moral support, and Myron wasn’t it.

  Jase peered off his bed looking down at me on the floor, growling from his aching body. I blinked away induced sleep and looked at him as his piercing eyes focus in on my worn face.

  “Why are you down there...come get in bed with me.”

  “You know I can’t do that—too much hooked up to you.”

  I stood from the chilled wood floors of his loft and leaned over on the bed and into his face. He pulled me down and hugged me tightly.

  “You are stubborn.” I said pulling away and scuffing up his waxed wood with my fluffy pink Hello Kitty house shoes over to his small refrigerator that sat in the corner of this makeshift hospital room. Jase refused to spend the night in a hospital; he hated them. Hence him just sending flowers when I was in the hospital. He had a personal doctor come make visits every four hours and staying overnight until his recovery. The most outrageously expensive thing I’ve seen him do thus far.

  “Would you stay in a place that has convened the deaths of thousands in it for months at a time?”

  “I wouldn’t want to but I would do it for my life.” I said pouring the thick half and half cream I took out the refrigerator into a brown domed mug. I took the espresso container off its brewer that sat atop the refrigerator and poured it slowly into the chilled cream. I stirred it twice like I once watched Jase do and dropped one cube of sugar into the marbled drink.

  He sat up growling and heaving as I walked over to him with his morning dose of caffeine.

  “Wait—I’ll help you.”

  “It’s coo...hand me that candy dish over there though.” he said nodding his head in the direction of a sparkling crystal bowl filled with elegantly wrapped treats. I handed it to him and he plucked two out of it, passing one to me.

  “Thanks.” I smiled giving him a genuine smile, watching him unravel the golden wrapper from around a silky chocolate ball. He looked at me as if I was supposed to do the same.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “For what?”

  “To eat the chocolate together...I wanna share this with you...it’s the closets we’re getting to sex with each other for a while. I’m tired of looking at you in your tidy widy’s.”

  I laughed at his humor and kissed him on his cheek. He chuckled popping the Belgian chocolate truffle in his mouth. I went ahead and opened mine staring at it as I thought of what today was.

  “This is bad you know, eating sweets in the morning.”

  He washed down his chocolate with the huge mug of espresso and took a moment to smack his lips, savoring the mixture of the tart combination.

  “Nothings as bad as your mind may phantom...I don’t listen to any of these health gurus.”

  He looked at me and asked the dr
eaded question.

  “You read the letter yet?”

  “Today is supposed to be my wedding day. Jase, I can’t deal.”

  “The best way to deal is to heal.”

  “I take it you read it. You tell me.”

  He gave a gruff laugh and shook his head no,

  “Whats in that letter can only be told through that wise man’s voice I read it through. All I can say is some things aren’t always what they seem.” he ran his bandaged hand through my bone straight hair.

  “I respect that you won’t read it until you’re ready, though.”

  I nodded my head.

  “Did I tell you what Myron told me?”

  His jaw line tensed, he looked off at the mute running television that sat in his Italian entertainment system.

  “Jase...you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” he adjusted himself to the wind of the fan that I sat beside his bed the night before. I shook my head,

  “You...knew.”

  I turned his face to mine, his eyes distant and glazed.

  “I’ve tried to get over what was done to you time and time again. I was told to get over you, anyway. Some things aren’t always meant for you if....they don’t come back to you.”

  In my mind those words came into focus. His face became familiar. And my body felt numb. Words I had heard Myron say to me before and now to hear them pour out Jase’s mouth. He sucked in air and blinked back tears.

  “And you still don’t remember me...” he sighed out.

  I looked down at the five carat ring on my right hand finger that Myron told me he had given to me.

  I looked back up at him, standing up quickly, my mind was playing tricks on me.

  “No,” I cried.

  Jase struggled from the bed and reached out for me, crying my name.

  “I’ve known you more than four months. May t-two thous-”

  “—No, stop it!” I yelled.

  “Five...Paris, France...the Atlantic Channels—”

  “STOP!” I couldn’t take it...me forgetting made it easier to love Myron. A love I was programmed to have.

  I looked at him head on shaking and pacing my breath. What my mind read could not have been true. Jase nodded his head bowing to my knees,

  “Listen to me—you know it’s true! The first time I met you, you were with Myron when he came to visit me in France. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our night on the town rendezvous near the yacht. It—it happened so damn fast, and you wonder why you’re in love with me?”

  It was as if time stopped.

  “And when you left my loft that night after we had ran off to be married in the Hamptons, you told me you wanted to come clean with Myron.”

  “Married?! I—I”

  “Yes. You died that night...in that horrible ram shack they did finding you and him. You were knocked unconscious, Chardonnay and when you came back to reality not knowing fully and effectively your life’s events in the past year, you couldn’t-even-remember-me.” the words hung in his tone like the cry of a hungry child.

  “Your family—my father banned me from seeing you...now you understand why I couldn’t tell you who I was.”

  The room circled around me. Slim was not my foul infidelity on Myron—it was Jase.

  “Then why was Slim and I—”

  “Slim was crazy about you—but he just got tangled up in your memory. Bits and pieces that only came back to you. You know, I fought with myself every day asking, why can’t she remember me? Then I realized it was best if I stayed my distance—wrote you off as dead...you’re not the first girl to do so anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was married to another woman and lost her in a car crash. When I lost you I dealt with it like I dealt with that.” I looked at him as he talked. He pulled me full frontal to him and looked me in my eyes bold point and touched my stomach. I gazed off apprehensively and then looked back into my husband’s eyes. “I want to read that letter.”

  28

  What Lies Ahead

  “It’s called psychogenic amnesia.”

  I sat in the waiting room of the doctor’s office as my parents spoke with a psychologist who had evaluated me after a week of a breakdown. I was one week late of my deadline to be in New York and meet with Josh Payton. I listened on to the doctor explain my condition. It was the first for my mother to hear of the events that went on the night I got raped. At first she didn’t believe it. She didn’t believe Myron could do such a thing and as far as Mr. Kent’s dealings with drugs my mother grew silent to that disclosure.

  “The cognitive parts your daughter has suffered from are dissociative which is borne from a traumatic or stressful event. Psychological defense mechanisms kick in bringing about the inability to recall information.”

  It seemed me forgetting about that horrible night wasn’t because of the drugs Myron made Slim give me but from my own body’s defense. I could see my parents and the psychologist in his office. My mother sitting down slowly in the consultation seat and my father with his head rested in his thumb and forefinger as he stood face to face with the psychologist. My father turned his head looking at me and a half smile caressed his trembling, sorrowful lips. I glanced away.

  “The second is Lacunar Amnesia. That’s when one particular event is blocked out completely. In order to prevent her from going into shock, Chardonnay’s mind functioning collapsed on her.”

  I was officially declared not crazy like my mother had assumed after finding me in the backyard, balled in a fetal position at the bottom of the Iron Gate with mud all over me. I sat up in my room for one straight week. My bags were packed. My arrangements were made. And my life was to be set. I picked myself up from that seat in the waiting room and walked ahead of my parents out that psycho rehab. My mother grabbed my arm and I snatched away from her. Albeit I could not blame her for what happened to me, I could place her as an accessory to the crime. My father warned my mother to let me go, and she did.

  * * * *

  That night I decided that it was time to go. It was September 10th and my flight was to be initially the 7th. I pulled out my luggage and collected some clothes and the basic necessities. I made the appropriate calls and minor changes were made ahead of time. I contemplated going to say good-bye to some people. I knew it would be hard to face the people, I thought were my true friends, who had part in my injustice. The people I created a comfort zone with, and as quick as they had appeared in my life...they disappeared. What was validation and where could I get it? There were some I wouldn’t be able to face. Like Konstance or Zasmyth, the closest people to me. I felt my heart drop as I thought of the stuff we had been through that had all been good and then the present. I couldn’t understand it. How God could change your focus of people so quickly. How things couldn’t be taken for granted. Friendships, love, trust. But I now knew I didn’t want it. It could all turn sour. I got in my car as my family looked on from the yard. Jersey was crying and King was mugging her shaking his head. I smirked at them and blew them a kiss. King caught his and placed his hand on his forehead and Jersey...well was being Jersey stormed into the house. She didn’t understand and my mother didn’t as well—although she sat content with the decision.

  The moment I touched down in New York—I called Micah. He was already in the Big Apple and licking its candy coated frosting. Jase met me at the airport as well, however not invited. I was making this trip a loner. Not because of potential career growth but because of a change of focus. Micah strolled closely behind me as Jase and I held light conversation about the NY.

  “If you’d like I could show you guys around.” Jase offered.

  As quick as my tongue wanted to slip into his mouth, I turned down his offer. Micah cleared his throat and I wince my eyes at him. Jase chuckled and licked his lips.

  “I really have to get settled in—”

  “And learn the city so yes she accepts your very kind offer of showing us around.” said Micah cutting in.

>   “No I can’t.” I said.

  Jase nodded his head and took my hands into his,

  “So when are we going to have this sit down then?”

  I knew he was speaking of our issue and my grandfather’s letter I had yet to invade.

  “What are you waiting on?” he asked as passer byers looked on at a so-called happy couple and a sassy man third wheeling in the middle of Times Square.

  “When I feel content.”

  He touched my face and said, “So you know you’re still my wife.”

  Micah was having a roll of the eye fest and his huffs were overly acted out. I looked up smiling at him. Jase was my misconception of Slim. The funny thing was Slim being put in my visionary...I couldn’t down play that there were no feelings for him romantically.

  Jase, Micah and I crossed the street and headed over to a cab waiting for passengers on the corner.

  “I’ll be by later—I have work to do.”

  Micah and I got inside and Jase closed the door safely behind us. In the cab Micah tisked the whole way to the loft my daddy secretly bought for me without my mother’s consent. If it was up to her I would have lived in a cardboard box in the middle of Times Square. We got my things settled and Micah gave one last tisked as he pulled the bottle of wine out his suite case he brought along.

  “Okay—damn what is it!” I said laughing.

  He sighed and looked over at me while drinking straight from the bottle. I gave him a side glanced look and he said,