War (26 page)

              “Winnie. Please.” I lean over and catch of glimpse of Jake.

              “Jake, just give her a night,” I hear his mother say, much softer now.

              “Maybe…maybe, I can talk to her,” his father says as he eyes the envelopes. “But your mother’s right. She needs a night alone.” I watch Jacob lower his head. I watch his Adam’s apple move from a swallow.

              “I’m tired,” he nearly whispers.

              And as much as I hate him right now, I hurt for him. The man actually has my heart suffering for him. Fuck you, Jacob Blair! We wouldn’t be in this situation if you were honest with me before we married! This shit is your fault! Why can’t shit just be easy with you? Why can’t you be happy with us being the perfectly insane married couple that we are? Why can’t you be happy with us riding the bike down the highway, buying the bar out and fucking all night in the hotel suite upstairs? Don’t you love when we do that? It sounds like you do when I’m bouncing up and down on your dick. It’s sounds like you do when you’re laughing at me, while I beg you to fuck me harder, faster. You feel like you do when your dick is throbbing in my mouth at the exact moment that my clit is throbbing in yours. You act like you do when we’re in Mass the next morning with a hangover: “Winnie, I feel sick, give me a Mentos.” You’ll rub your temples to prove that you’re truly sick. I’ll suck my teeth and dig in my clutch for a Mentos and then I’ll feel it: you’re softly elbowing me in the side. I look up at you. You nod towards the aisles. And there she is. Sister Agnes is walking down the aisle in her nun uniform and ‘pocket book’.

And so it begins.

We laugh at sister Agnes’ clutch. Since when do nuns carry purses? We laugh at that for hours…all throughout prayer: Your mother turns around and gives us a look. We laugh all the way home:
This is getting ridiculous
, Ralphie says…We laugh all throughout Sunday dinner at your parents.
You two are so annoying
, your sisters always say. But we continue to laugh…all throughout dessert at Sammy’s Chocolate Café.
Listen, I’m not doing this all night with you
, Harlow always tell us. But we continue to laugh…all throughout giving the kids baths…all throughout having our last glass of wine for the night, alone in the kitchen. And then all the laughter ends with one question:
What the fuck does she keep in it
? And then we laugh harder.

              Damn Jakie, are you laughing with some other bitch?

              “I can’t do this again,” he says. “Not another divorce.” He shakes his head. “I can’t do it.” And now I swallow to hold back the tears.

              Neither can I, Jake.

MALCOLM

              “Rusty.”

“Attorney Blair?’

“Yes sir.”

“This is Rusty Bilton. It’s 0400 hours.”

“Okay…”

“I’m calling because there seems to be an issue with Mrs. Kyles and I know she’s a frequent visitor of yours and Mrs. Dena March.”

“Is she in the building?”

“No, but she’s across the street. I think it was the hollering that got my attention. You know when I hear elevated sounds, I jump into action.”

“What’s she doing?”

“She’s arguing with a man outside. Can’t make out his face but I did make out the gist of it.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well apparently someone moved everything she owned out of her home and that rubbed her the wrong way.”

“Someone moved her out of her
home
?”

“That’s what I’m gathering. Seems like the moving company left a contact card. She called them, got the address to where all of her belongings were moved to, showed up at the place, which is the Whitby condos across the street and now…well, now the police just pulled up.”

“Shit…alright I’m on my way. Can you stall the cops?”

“Of course I can.”

“On my way.”

MALCOLM

“Malcolm? Is something the matter?”

“Dena, Nat’s not answering his phone. I need you to wake him up and then I need you to hurry downstairs. Jasmine’s outside, across the street and the police are probably about to arrest her.”

“OH MY GOD! Nat! Wake up! Wake up! Put some clothes on! Jasmine’s about to get arrested! She’s across the street…no, I’ll grab the children, just go! I’m on my way! I’m on my way! Bye Malcolm! I’m going!”

MALCOLM

“Hello?”

“Dr. Harlow, it’s Malcolm. I’m sorry to wake you.”

“Dear Lord, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me you and Marlon got into another fight.”

“No ma’am. I need you or your husband to come to my place. I have Jasmine here.”

“This late?”

“She can tell you what happened once you get here but I need to warn you that she’s…well, I can barely understand what she’s saying.”

“Is she drunk? Marlon was drunk earlier.”

“No, she’s…I don’t know. For lack of a better phrase, she’s having a, I don’t know, small breakdown.”

“What in the
world
! Lord Jesus, what in the hell is going on today? I’m on my way.”
 

MALCOLM

“Dr. Samuels, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Jasmine’s mother is on staff at my hospital, of course I’d help her daughter.”

“And this is confidential?”

“Well, of course.”

“Jasmine’s in my bedroom right now with her mother and her best friend, Dena March. Dr. Harlow just calmed her down but she wanted me to call you. Something about Acute Stress Reaction.”

“I know it well. Let me go see what I can do.”

“This way please.”

MALCOLM

“Alright, Malcolm, so I’m inclined to agree with Dr. Harlow about the diagnosis of Acute Stress Reaction. The muteness is a telltale sign. She’s lying there, gazing off, refusing to talk.”

“Okay.”

“But to make an official diagnosis, she has to be in that state, or some variation of Acute Stress Reaction for a minimum of two days, maximum of four weeks.”

“Alright.”

“I can check in with her in forty-eight hours. Her mother says that she’ll stay with her until then. Dr. Harlow and I think it’s best if Jasmine goes to her father’s parents’ home during this time. And also, to keep her daughters away from her.”

“Of course.”

“So we’ll wait forty-eight hours and if there is no change or if she’s gotten worse, we can take it from there.”

“Worst case scenario, what happens?”

“Well, let’s start with the best case. ASD may resolve itself with time, so that’s all she may need. Rest and time. Worst case, her ASD will turn into PTSD.”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder. What army vets get?”

“Don’t downplay Jasmine’s reaction to this, son. She’s a stay-at-home mother with no income who has just lost her husband, her furnishings and her home. And from what I’m gathering she’s having extreme marital as well as personal issues. Don’t take this lightly.”

“Of course not.”

“This may not involve guilty verdicts and death sentences, Attorney Blair, or all the glamorous things you lawyers are accustomed to, but this is serious.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Harlow will take Jasmine to her grandparents’ home in the morning, I take it it’s fine for them to stay here for the night?”

“Absolutely.”

MALCOLM

“Hello?”

“Marla, it’s Malcolm.”

“Oh Malcolm, I was so nervous to answer the house phone because, you know, it’s not my house but then I thought that Dan may call or something so…”

“Are you okay?”

“I, um, yeah. I guess.”

“I’ll have a grocery service come over in the morning. They’ll bring a catalog and an order form for food. Nice people. Danielle and I use them.”

“Wow, that’s, uh, really nice. Because, well, I’m not sure if Jon’s gonna cut my credit cards off and well, I don’t really have my own money. But come Monday, I’ll be looking for a job. I have a degree in art history so I’m not too sure what kind of job I’ll find. I think I just may head back to Philly and-”

“Danielle’s parents sit on the board of the Museum of Arts. Just give me the word and I can see what they’ll do for you.”

“Oh my God! That would be perfect.”

“Alright. I’ll call them tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Malcolm.”

“No problem. What time should I tell the groceries to be there?”

“Nine is good.”

“I’ll call them. And Red will be in the hospital for another day so we’ll see you, right?”

“I’m not too sure if, you know, Dan’s in the seeing mood.”

“Visiting hours start at ten.”

“Alright. I’ll be there. Thanks Malcolm.”

“No problem, baby.”

MALCOLM

“There you go hogging the bed again.”

“Hush, Malcolm…when did you get back?”

“Just got in…thank God they give you king beds here.”

“Adjustable ones like in those commercials with the old people from years ago. Do you remember those?”

“Of course. Now move over.”

“Is Jasmine okay?”

“When I got there, Nat said he just got the cops to leave. Dena was trying to hold Jasmine back as she was beating Marlon up. By the time her mother got there she was refusing to talk. And by the time Dr. Samuels got there, she was barely blinking.”

“Oh my
God
.”

“I know. She’s at our place now with Zara, sleeping it off.”

“Malcolm, you don’t sleep off crazy.”

“She just got served a sucker punch, that’s all.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Yeah, she should be good by then.”

“Night…”

“Goodnight…”

“Uh-oh. Guess who’s up.”

“I’ll get her.”

“No, I’ll get her. You had a long night.”

“I’m all good, baby. I’ll get her…alright baby-girl, here I come…”

MALCOLM

“Jake.”

“She left.”

“What?”

“She left. She’s gone. Took the kids, packed some clothes. Went to my parents.”

“That’s a good sign. She could have gone anywhere, to any of the Yates’ homes, but she went all the way to Cambridge to stay with Uncle Preston and Aunt Pammy.”

“I’m so fucking tired.”

“I know, but it’s okay … were you with Jasmine the night before?”

“I was but not like that. Long story. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Alright. Relax. It’s okay. We’ll get your wife back.”