Scandalous

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Scandalous Page 7

by Murray, Victoria Christopher


  Like I said before, women didn't really like me. Not that I cared; I'd stopped caring about what any of them thought the day I graduated from middle school. On that day, I'd left behind every single incident that, if I hadn't been the strong child my parents raised me to be, would've scarred me for life.

  On graduation day, I forgot about the time I'd walked into the bathroom and heard the girls talking about the way the heels of my loafers were worn down.

  “Do you think Jasmine's ever had a new pair of shoes?” Tiffany Adams had giggled.

  I was so crushed that I'd run back into Mrs. Yearwood's math class and when Kyla asked me what was wrong, I shook my head and just prayed my bladder would hold out for the next three hours until I got home.

  On graduation day, I pushed aside the hurt I still felt when Brittany Weatherspoon had handed out invitations to her thirteenth birthday party to every student in the class…except for me.

  “Oh, Jasmine, I'm sorry,” she'd said as I fought hard to hold my tears. “I figured that you wouldn't be able to afford a birthday gift, since you're poor and all, so I was just helping you out.”

  The only thing that had helped me out that day was Kyla standing up and returning her invitation, declaring in front of the whole class that if her best friend wasn't invited then she wasn't going either.

  On graduation day, I'd left behind the days of torture, the days of reminders that I wasn't included because I was nothing more than a scholarship student. I'd left behind the tears that I held inside because I would never be one of the girls.

  But, on the first day of high school, that had all changed. When Donnell Davis, a sophomore on the varsity basketball team, had winked at me as he strutted by my locker. That single action brought me to the realization that I didn't need girls, I had boys. And the boys turned me into the most popular girl in high school.

  If I'd had my way, this little chapel would have been filled with boys who'd grown into men, but there was no way that would've passed by my husband. So women were here, just to fill the chairs.

  My eyes scanned the crowd and I focused first on Shelley, standing in the back row like she was only there because she was my boss and as soon as she could, she was gonna make a quick getaway. She wasn't even smiling; she was just staring, and I knew what that was all about--for once, she was jealous of me. I wanted to roll my eyes, but couldn't. Because that would be the precise moment when the photographer, Dee Hampton, would snap a picture. I just prayed that she got some good photos of me, but I wouldn't bet any money on that. I had told Kenny over and over that I didn't want Deborah as our photographer, but he'd insisted on her.

  “Come on, you know she needs the work,” he'd begged.

  It wasn't that I was trying to be cold-hearted. I just didn't think it was proper protocol to have my husband-to-be's ex working our wedding. Okay, so they’d been boyfriend and girlfriend way back in the sixth grade, but it was in the sixth grade where I'd discovered the truth about girls, remember?

  Well, whatever! All Deborah could do today was dream about what might have been. I spread my lips into a smile as I took a final look at Shelly, even though all she did was smirk at me. I shook my head just a little, wondering why she was even here. She probably didn't even come with a gift. Not that my boss was cheap. She wore some righteous designer outfits to work just about every day. But she didn't like me, so I doubted if she was going to pull out her Gold American Express card for me.

  My smile turned genuine when I saw Laverne and Faith, the two administrative assistants at Carnation. Now those were two ladies that I could say I liked. Laverne was the head assistant and Faith was kinda her sidekick, but from my first day on the job, they took care of me. At first, all I did was wonder: what did they think they were going to get out of me? But it turned out they wanted nothing, and over the years that I'd been there, they always had my back.

  As my father and I continued the slow stroll down the aisle, I soaked in the oohhs and aahhs that softly filled the air, and I knew that I'd achieved the look. I wore a simple dress, but the satin-crepe was cut to my body to hug every curve and the cowl neckline was just low and sexy enough. It was too bad that the designer, LaShawn, wasn't here to see everyone's reaction to her creation. I had invited her, but that chick hadn't even sent back her RSVP. She called me up directly to decline, telling me that she really didn't like me and designing the dress for me had been all about business for her.

  Whatever!

  My glance moved to the other side and I looked right into the eyes of Alexis Ward and Stephanie Johnson. When I saw the two of them, I didn't even care if the photographer caught me rolling my eyes. What were the two of them doing on the groom's side of the aisle anyway? I bet they did that on purpose. They didn't even know Kenny! Not that they were my friends either. I only knew Alexis and Stephanie because of Kyla, and I wished she'd never introduced me to either one of them. The way they were acting now, I'd bet they wished the same thing. Alexis had the nerve to yawn as I passed by, and Stephanie wasn't even looking; she was studying her nails as if she was trying to figure out if she needed a new manicure.

  Whatever!

  At least I saw some friendly faces when I looked back to the other side. Well, not friends actually--the second row was filled with my relatives, though I'd only invited a few. I wanted my wedding to be classy, not country, but that was hard to do considering the folks I was related to. Take my cousin, Cheryl. I did love her; she was a sweet kid. But while everyone was standing and looking and appreciating me, Cheryl sat at the end of the row, reading a book! I'm telling you, every time I saw my cousin, she was reading a book. But dang--this was a wedding. Who read a book at a wedding? See, that's why there were only ten of my relatives here, including my dad, my sister, and my brother-in-law….…and then I saw them: my nephews. Every single bad thought I had up to that moment was all gone because there were Serena's sons, smiling up at me. Serena thought Robert Jr., who was three, and James, who was two, were too young to be in the wedding. But to me they were still part of it, standing there in the front row next to their father, wearing miniature tuxedos. I wanted to rush over, swoop them both into my arms, then pinch and kiss their cheeks. Those little boys had captured my heart the way no one else had, except for….

  Kenneth Larson.

  When I looked up, Kenny came into my full view and now no one else, not even my nephews, was on my mind. Kenny Larson was decked out for real. I'd gone with Kenny to buy the Pierre Cardin tuxedo that he wore. Of course, he could have rented a tuxedo like every other groom, but I had big plans for him and he was going to need a tuxedo in his wardrobe. And we had picked out the perfect suit. Because looking as dapper as he did, he could leave right now and step into the pages of that hot GQ Magazine.

  But it was more than just the way Kenny looked. It was the way he smiled, no, the way he beamed as his eyes stayed on me. I swear, that man didn't even blink as my father guided me closer to him.

  In Kenny's eyes I saw it--just pure love. Like he loved me more than anything in the world. Like he would always love me that way.

  And I loved him so much too.

  I had no doubts and now I could leave what I'd done last night and all those nights before in the same place--I could leave my dirty laundry in the past. What was before me now was a future that I'd dreamed about since I was a little girl. Kenny was my prince. No, he wasn't going to be the NFL star that I always thought he'd be, but he was still mine. And together, we'd build a great life and have it all: a new house, wonderful children, successful careers. Nothing and no one else would matter as long as it was just the two of us.

  By the time I reached Kenny and the judge, my eyes were filled with tears, but my heart was singing.

  My father stood on one side and Kenny stood on the other as we faced the judge. I'd met the judge last week, at the wedding planner's suggestion. Yolanda told me that there were still many people who didn't believe in being married by a woman. It didn't matter to me--as long as the pe
rson spoke a language that I could understand and would help me say, 'I do,' I didn't care a bit about gender. But I was glad that I'd met Judge Juanita Davis. When we'd met at the hotel's bar, she was nothing like I'd expected a black-robe-wearing judge to be. She wasn't stiff; she wasn't staid. She was so cool, dressed in a rhinestone-studded jean pants suit and tossing back tequila shots like they were nothing more than the red Kool-Aid that Kenny loved so much. Being with her was like hanging out with a girlfriend. Not that we would ever be friends. She'd given me her number, but I'd thrown it into the trash can before I even left the hotel. Like I said, I didn't trust women, not even if they wore black robes.

  My father, Kenny, and I stood in front of the judge and waited for Latricia to finish the last stanza of the song. At the end, the guests applauded politely. Latricia smiled and glanced over at Kenny, but when she looked at me, she rolled her eyes.

  Dang! I hope no one saw that. She was just mad because when she'd met with me and Yolanda, she had thirty different songs that she wanted to play--and I didn't like a single one of them. But Latricia needed to understand that this was my wedding and she was being paid to do what I told her to do. So she could make all the faces she wanted. I was the queen today.

  Once the applause was over, Judge Davis smiled at me and Kenny before she said, “Dearly beloved….”

  The wonderful thing about having a judge and not a traditional pastor was that we wouldn't have to go through all that mumbo-jumbo that came with preachers. Juanita had told me that her job was to marry us--get us in and get us out. Then we could get to the four-hour reception, which was the main part of the party to me.

  Standing next to Kenny, though, I didn’t want to think about any of that. Instead, I wanted to think about the first time I'd laid eyes on this man, though calling him a man was a stretch back then. We were just high school kids who thought we were grown. But though I'd had the attention of plenty of boys, Kenny was the only one who touched my heart, who made me understand love from someone besides my mother and father.

  “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

  “I do,” my father said. My father kissed my cheek, shook Kenny's hand, then sat on the front pew.

  I'd told Judge Davis to keep out that line about if anyone objected to this marriage. Not that I thought any of the men from my past would show up; I was worried about what some crazed woman might do. Some jealous woman jumping up and telling a lie. So many lies had been told about me that I wasn't about to take a chance.

  So the judge just kept reading from her little black book, and I just kept hoping that this would be over quick. Facing Kenny, we exchanged vows, made eternal promises to love each other forever, for always, and then stood holding hands as L. Alexander, a local up-and-coming R&B singer, sang Born Again. L. stood just a few feet from the judge--and she was wearing white!

  What?

  She was singing at my wedding and she was wearing white? Wasn't she aware of the fact that the bride was always the star?

  With a sigh, I turned away and a smile was back on my face as I looked into Kenny's eyes the entire time L. sang. He squeezed my hands and I knew what he was thinking. And for the first time in a long time, I was right there with him. I couldn't wait to be alone with my husband. I couldn't wait to show him just how much I loved him.

  At the end of the song, our guests stood up, giving L. a standing ovation. Now, I admit, she did sing that song, but it felt like she was trying to steal my show. First her white dress and then that performance.

  She was supposed to sing again at the luncheon, but I started thinking that maybe I should send L. home. My cousin, Trina, could fill in for her. Not that Trina could carry a note, but she didn't seem to know that. With Trina singing, all of the attention would definitely stay on me.

  “Well, all right now,” Judge Davis said.

  She added a few closing words, and just like she promised, she had us in and out.

  “Jasmine Cox and Kenneth Larson, I now pronounce that you are one and you are man and wife.” As the guests clapped, the judge continued, “Kenny, you may kiss the bride.”

  Everyone cheered as Kenny held me in his arms and tried to thrust his tongue all the way down my throat. If he could have, I was sure that he probably would have ripped my dress off of me right there. I laughed when he allowed me to come up for air.

  I was so happy. So ready to be his wife.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth Larson.”

  I held my husband's hand as we walked back down the aisle, past all the faces that I saw before. This time, though everyone was smiling…Alexis, Stephanie, and even my boss, Shelly.

  But as I looked at my boss, my steps slowed down. Because next to Shelly, in that last row, standing right next to her, was Roman.

  Now, I can't say that I had too much of God in my life, but He had to be right there with me at that moment because that was the only way I was able to keep walking. What I really wanted to do was fall out right there.

  What was he doing here? Did he know Shelly? If he knew my boss, that would be a disaster!

  It was difficult, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other, holding onto Kenny even tighter than I held him before. But my eyes stayed on Roman. He blended in with the rest of the guests, especially since he wore a tailored blue suit. But I couldn't even appreciate how good he looked 'cause my heart was filled with fear. In the next second, though, he was out of my line of vision as Kenny and I stepped into the hallway.

  “Come here, come here,” Yolanda clapped her hands. She was trying to set us up in the reception line so that we could greet our guests and send them into the banquet room for the lunch reception.

  But there was no way we could do this line out here. I had to get to Roman--find out what he was up to and then do everything I could to keep him away from Kenny and my father, and my sister. And, oh my God…I had to keep him away from Kyla because she would recognize him after this morning. And Alexis and Stephanie, who were also at the club for my party and saw that man strip down to a G-string. Maybe Alexis and Stephanie wouldn't recognize him with clothes on, but Kyla would.

  It was hard to keep my smile and my composure as the wheels in my head churned with everything that could go wrong.

  “Baby,” I whispered to Kenny, “I want to run into the restroom before we greet everyone.”

  “Oh, okay. No problem. I can hold it down until you come back.”

  “No, you know what?” I said. “Why don't we just move the reception line into the room where we're having lunch? I never really understood why they wanted us in the hall anyway.”

  Kenny frowned. “Can we just change it like that? What is Yolanda going to say?”

  Inside my head, I screamed. Who cared what that barracuda thought? But on the outside, all I did was kiss his lips lightly. “Isn't this our day? We should be able to do whatever we want.”

  As the rest of the bridal party rushed up behind us to offer their congratulations, Kenny called Yolanda over to tell her the change of plans. I saw her sigh, but I didn't have time to focus on her. My eyes were on the guests who were strolling out of the room. My eyes searched the hall for a place where I could talk to Roman, away from the prying eyes of my friends and family.

  “What's wrong?” Kyla asked me.

  “Oh, nothing. I just…have to go to the bathroom.”

  That was supposed to be good enough. That was supposed to get me some time alone to handle Roman. But I forgot there was a reason why they were called my bridesmaids.

  “Not without us,” Kyla said as if she and my sister were my bodyguards. Behind her, Serena nodded.

  “No, really, I'm fine,” I said. “Truly, I can do this by myself. Trust me. I've gone to the bathroom before.”

  Serena and Kyla laughed.

  “But you haven't gone as a wife.” The two gave each other high-five as if they belonged to some special wives' club and I was a new member.


  “We're coming with you,” Serena said, “so just shut up and lead the way so that we can get back to the celebration.”

  I tried to laugh and act like all was well. It was hard now because the hall was filling up with our guests. My eyes scanned the space, but though I saw everyone who'd been inside the room, I didn't see Roman. I shook my head slightly. Could I have imagined him?

  But the moment I had that thought, I spotted him. At the other end of the hall, by the elevators that led to the lobby--that led to the entrance, or the exit in this case. He was close enough for me to see him, but far enough away that nobody would really notice me looking at him.

  So no one else saw the way he smiled. And no one else saw the way he blew me a kiss before he disappeared into the elevators.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled a long breath of relief. At least he was gone. But as I followed my sister and Kyla into the restroom, I didn't really feel any better. That was so bizarre. What was that man doing here? And the real question: was he coming back?

  I tried to smile and primp and joke with my sister and best friend as we stood in front of the bathroom mirror, but it was hard to focus.

  All I could think about was: what kind of madness had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 7

  Kenny Larson and I were going to be married forever--because there was no way that I could go through another afternoon like this. Not that the reception was all that bad. If I ignored the fact that there were tables filled with women who couldn't even find it in their hearts to give me my props--not even on my big day--it would've been quite a celebration. Especially having my new husband by my side. Kenny held onto my hand as if we were one for real and I have to admit that I loved it. I didn't expect to feel this way. In the past, if Kenny had stayed too close to me, I would've told him to stop being so clingy.

  But today, it was like something happened from the moment I said, 'I do.' Today, I didn't care if he was clinging to me because I didn't want to let go of him myself. Maybe it was because I finally realized that I really was totally and completely in love with this man.

 

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