"Tell the lunchroom monitor," the two responded in unison.
"Enough of that. No hollering at the children, we're having dinner." That statement prompted a shared look between Alexandra and me. Our mother never had an issue with the date, time, or location of any verbal reprimand when it was us. As a grandmother, she couldn't abide the slightest discipline for her grandchildren. "Jasmine, baby, we miss you when you're away. When are you going to quit that godforsaken job? It's hard not having you around."
"Hon, let her take her time. It may take Jasmine a little longer to find what we have," the booming voice of my father answered.
"Gee, thanks," I answered sarcastically.
"I didn't mean it like that. I should have stayed out of it." He waved a hand and resumed eating.
"Sorry, Dad. I'm tired of talking about it. I love you guys, but my job offers fulfillment I can't find anywhere else. Besides, I'm up for partner."
"That's great, sweetie. I knew you could do it." My father ignored the look my mother flashed.
"You deserve it." Alexandra beamed.
"Partner? Like when you hold hands and walk to the big kids' section of the school?" Christian asked.
"No. That means that Auntie Jazzy will make lots of money and be around a lot more. She can attend some of your school programs.” Alexandra smiled with pride.
"Hurray! Hurrah!" Kellan shot his hands up in celebration. He stood from his chair and danced The Floss. His flailing arms nearly knocked his dinner plate to the floor, and he bolted back to his chair after a glance from his mother.
"Calm down. It isn't official. I need a feather in my cap, and this IPO is the project that will give it to me,” I said.
A visibly frazzled Jackson arrived when we were in the middle of dessert. My brother-in-law walked into the dining room and pecked a hurried kiss on Alexandra's cheek. He nodded a distracted hello to me, smiled at my parents, and patted my nephews on their heads. Like a good wife, Alexandra prepared a dinner plate filled with two pieces of chicken and healthy servings of the sides. He shoveled the food into his mouth while gulping down glasses of iced tea. He laughed and joked with my parents and smiled at my nephews' knock-knock jokes.
After dinner, Jackson retired to the media room with my parents and the boys. Alexandra and I cleaned the dishes. We didn't mind cleaning because that would give us time to speak in private.
I washed the dishes while Alex dried and put them away. She leaned over and whispered, "Don't listen to them. Enjoy your freedom while you have it. These people won't let me have a moment alone. The twins interrupt my bathroom time. Jackson felt that we were drifting apart, so he asked me to have sex with him every day. He read a bullshit article on Facebook about a couple that reconnected by having daily sex for a year. In the beginning it was fun, but we're on day thirty-three, and I'm over it. There's only so many positions that we can do. But it didn't stop my other duties. On top of being a fuck doll, I'm the boys' chauffeur, the family cook, and Jackson's assistant. I jumped at the opportunity to go to Vegas with my sorors."
Alex's admission surprised me; I thought she had a charmed life. After her second year in law school, she married a man that would become one of Atlanta's super attorneys. She quit school to become a housewife and mother. The two lived within walking distance to my parents' home. They had all the trappings of success—luxury cars, a home featured in local lifestyle magazines, and two beautiful children. She had what most women wanted.
"We're celebrating our tenth pledge anniversary. It's my last chance to live my best life. I'll make my obligatory daily call to ensure the boys are still breathing, but I'll spend the rest of my time drinking, laying poolside in teeny, tiny bikinis, and twerking. I missed out on the bandage dress trend, but I’ll wear one with pride,” she continued, hanging the dishtowel on the designated hook. She pulled down the faucet nozzle and began to rinse the sink.
"Aww. I'm sorry. You and Jackson appear to be perfect."
"Our relationship is as perfect as a slick politician's telephone call. I love him and the boys, and I wouldn't trade them for the world. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be if I'd pursued a legal career and kicked ass like you. Partner, eh?"
"Yeah. I am nervous, excited, and afraid. So many decisions. Should I become an equity partner? Do I want to invest in someone else's dream? What if I want to leave in a few years? How will that work?"
"You enjoy setting goals and creating vision boards. Envision your objectives for the next five years and then determine if becoming partner will enhance or detract from those goals."
Images of white picket fences and smiling, doe-eyed children filled my dreams. My career aspirations were not at the forefront of those ideas. Finding love, maintaining a loving marriage, and raising well-adjusted kids could potentially not be in the cards if I accepted the offer to become a partner. I may not see any significant financial increases. Yet, reaching the pinnacle of success at ER Wallace felt like something I should have wanted.
"I met someone. At work." My words came out in a rush of air. Alex abruptly stopped wiping the sink and turned to look at me.
"Is he nearby? Invite him over for cordials!"
"No. He's in Chicago. Alex, we went from enemies to friends to lovers in record speed. He asked me to stay with him next weekend."
Her eyes widened as she understood the enormity of my confession.
"You're going to stay, aren't you? It's gonna be fun. Why didn't you tell me earlier? We could have shopped for new clothes. What are you going to wear? What about that cute black lacy BCBG shirt and the dark blue Joe's jeans? The Aquazzura mesh pumps, of course. Wear your hair in a ponytail with gold hoop earrings."
"Alex, focus. I’m going to stay, but I'm scared. I doubt anything will come from this. It may end up being a work thing. But what if it doesn't?" I shrugged my shoulders.
"Why did you ask that?"
"Look at what happened with Bryce. Everyone thought we were perfect for each other, and he ended up meeting and loving a woman the exact opposite of me. What if it's me?"
"It's not you. Jasmine, you need a man who can deal with your ass, and you can deal with his. How does he make you feel?"
"Alex, the way he looks at me, and when he smiles, I feel like the only other person in this world."
"My advice, sister dear? Be open-minded to all possibilities. Now sit and tell me everything."
Garrett
From an early age, my father expected my brother and me to behave with manners. Under his wing, we learned the art of tying a perfect Windsor knot, how to exude confidence without being arrogant, and treating people, particularly women, with respect. My father didn't talk the talk. He walked the walk. After thirty-two years of marriage, my parents were still head over heels in love. He kept it going by being attentive and kind to my mother. They'd have weekly dinner dates, or he'd send flowers, just because. My mother relished the smallest gestures and lit up whenever he entered the room.
Dad knew of my high school exploits. After one particularly late night, I'd tiptoed into the house, careful not to wake anyone. He'd sat in the darkened family room, awaiting my return. I'd winced, expecting yelling or grounding. Instead, he'd handed me a bag containing a box of condoms. He left me with two pieces of advice. He'd told me that 'no' means 'no,' and that a gentleman always calls the day after.