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“Looks like Mama is always right.” Jasmine pulls a pair of brass knuckles from her purse. “She told me I might need these.”
“I’m not using any brass knuckles. I’m going to give her these bare hands,” I say, wrapping my hand around my drink as soon as the bartender slides it to me. “Thanks,” I say to the bartender and turn back to Jasmine. “Mama gave you those?”
Jasmine drops them back into her purse and takes her drink as well. “Yep. She was acting holier than thou at dinner last week. Then, when I got ready to go tonight, she started talking about what she used to take with her in case she got into a fight. Pulled them out and set them on the coffee table. You know how she is. She didn’t tell me to take them but put them there for me.” Jasmine takes a huge sip from her drink. “She’s not fooling anyone.”
I can’t help but chuckle. Because why is my mother like this? And I already know my father approves of Jasmine’s behavior.
Thinking about my parents almost makes me forget where we are and the two women who have me away from the dinner table, at the bar, taking shots.
Moey Dash's aggravating voice interrupts our bar retreat. "Well, well, well," she drawls, her eyes flickering between Jasmine and me. "If it isn't the surprise romance and the love triangle of the century. You two should write your own romantic suspense novels." She lets out an annoying cackle, making me wonder if she actually came to the party for an ass-whopping or if she’s just slow. Because why does she keep inserting herself into my conversations and my business?
A surge of anger rises in my chest. "Excuse me?" I retort, my voice laced with frustration.
She rolls her eyes heavenward. “You’re excused. And you both know exactly what I mean.”
Jasmine, never one to back down, snaps back. “We know what you mean. But do you know what it means for you to be in our face and our business?”
Moey Dash steps closer, her breath almost touching Jasmine's face. "Oh, come on, sweetie," she says condescendingly. "It’s public knowledge that Eddie’s in love with you. Anyone with two eyes can see it. And then there's Jeremiah, who's been pining after you too. You’re probably involved with both of them."
Jasmine's eyes flare with intensity, as if she's possessed by a demon. "And if I am, what’s it to you?" she challenges defiantly.
Moey Dash jests, "If you are, damn sis, can you share some of the wealth with the other women trying to score a baller? Some women are out here just hogging all the dick."
I take a step forward, trying to put myself between Moey Dash and Jasmine, attempting to diffuse the situation. "Don’t you have something better to do than get in other people’s business?” I ask firmly, my irritation evident in my tone.
The tension in the room hangs heavily, and I can feel the eyes of those around us observing the exchange. It's clear that Moey Dash enjoys stirring the pot, but I won't let her ruin the evening with her inflammatory remarks.
“This is my business. Eddie is my ex, and who’s to say I’m not interested in being his current girlfriend again? That’s if Jasmine doesn’t mind freeing up some dick for the rest of us.”
Jasmine’s skin that’s usually a caramel brown complexion turns red. “Eddie is free to be with who he wants to be with. I’m not in a relationship with anyone, so I don’t haveto answer to anyone. Especially not a broken down pass-around that can’t get one man, so she spends her days worried about the two I deal with.”
Moey Dash rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Keep singing whatever melody sounds good in your ears, honey. But we all know the truth. You want Eddie, and Jeremiah wants you. It's like a bad soap opera."
“And you want them both. So sad for you,” Jasmine hurls out before stepping within an inch of Moey. “Listen, sweetheart, if I do have a love triangle going on, there’s nothing you can do about it and nothing you could say that could make either of them want me less," Jasmine says with fire in every word.
“Leave us alone! And that means, keep my name out of your mouth and off your keyboard too,” I yell, which causes other patrons in the restaurant to look in our direction. My sister and I are like two tyrants who came into this good establishment and started trouble.
Moey Dash leans toward us and whispers, “I see that I hit a nerve, did I not? You can deny it all you want, but we all know the truth. And it's only a matter of time before things come crashing down." She glances over at the table and looks at her friend Ambrosia. “It would be a shame if things came crashing down for you both.”
She strolls off, leaving Jasmine to regain her composure while I reach into Jasmine’s purse and remove the brass knuckles. “Mama was right. These will be a nice accent for some hand throwing tonight.” I know one woman who has put in her application for hand catcher, and I’m poised to give her the job.
Jasmine wraps her arm around me and reaches for the knuckles. “No, Mama gave them to me. Let me get her.”
I shrug her off. “No, I’ll get her.”
To onlookers, it looks as if we’re two women having an intense conversation while embracing. To us, we’re two sistersbickering over something our mother only gave to one of us and not the other.
While we should have been embracing and calling upon the strength of the heavenly father to keep us off Moey’s behind, we’re debating over who’ll get to tag Moey with Mama’s brass knuckles.
Episode 34
Where is Jasmine?!
Monica walks over to join Jasmine and me at the bar, concern evident in her expression. We pause in our pursuit to regain control of Mama's brass knuckles and exchange glances. I imagine how ridiculous we must look, but despite feeling a bit silly, I'm determined to put an end to Moey's meddling at this dinner, especially when it involves Ambrosia getting too close to Wayne. I have no doubt he would reject her; it’s just the principle.
"We're doing just fine," I respond, trying to keep my composure.
While I interact with Monica, Jasmine discreetly retrieves the brass knuckles I had hidden at my back and conceals them behind her. I want to say something, but drawing attention to my sister having unconcealed brass knuckles at Monica's event would only add to the mess we're in.
