Chapter 3
The place where Ted was holed up was, surprisingly, a vast improvement on his former lodgings. The apartment was in a cleaner, more spacious and better lit South Bronx building. Some generous relative must have decided to share their house.
They walked through a maze of stairs and airy corridors before Reggie stopped before a numbered door. Ignoring the doorbell, he rapped on the wood three times.
"Who is it?" a familiar voice called out in cautious tones.
"Open up," Reggie ordered.
That was all the identification that was needed apparently for the door swung open to reveal Ted, still in his well-worn red baseball cap. His tremendous relief was pathetic to behold, until his eyes lit on Jasmine. Then he turned an angry and confused glare on Reggie.
"You said you wouldn't bring her here!"
Reggie just shrugged. "She twisted my arm. You of all people should know how hard it is to say no to that face," he said lightly.
"Ted." Although it hurt to be received like this, she was still worried about Ted. Already, he had lost weight. "What is going on?"
"Nothing I can't handle," came the brusque reply. Ted's expression was shuttered and she had the uncomfortable feeling of facing a former friend, a hostile stranger.
"Do you know how scared your mother is right now? Your sister, your step-father, me? We're all worried sick about you, and you're
fine
?" Her arm swung in a gesture encompassing the pleasant building in general. "How did you get here anyway? Who's staying with you?"
"No one!"
"So you're alone? But who's paying for this place?"
"Nobody!"
"It's not you, that's for sure."
"Stay out of it, Jazz." It was just short of a warning.
Jasmine gave him an uncomprehending look. "I'm here," she said with soft deliberation, "because I needed to be with you. I thought you needed me, too."
Ted lifted both his hands and backed away from the door before turning and retreating into the living room. "I can't do this."
"Ted!"
"Not so loud, Jasmine," cautioned a quiet voice behind her. She ignored it and followed Ted into the apartment.
"Don't turn your back on me," Jasmine snarled, her anger sparked at last. "You have no idea what I've been through since you took off. And your poor mother- she fainted when the cops suggested checking the morgue yesterday-"
Ted stopped abruptly and swung round to face her. "You think I don't know she's going through hell right now?" he lashed out. His voice rising and his face contorted, he was unrecognizable in his anger. "You think you care about my goddamn mama more than me? And who the hell do you think you are anyway?!"
"I
know
who I am," Jasmine informed him coldly. "Can I say the same for you?"
His face was twisted in a mixture of pain and rage so potent he was speechless for a second. Then he looked over her shoulder and shouted, "You
said
she wouldn't come here! You said it! If you can't stick to that, who else you gonna bring over here? Huh? I'm not some goddamn animal in a zoo, man, I'm not here for your entertainmen!"
Ted was so done with her that he wouldn't even talk to her anymore. He was talking past her as if she did not exist. It was beyond bearing. Without another word, Jasmine turned around and headed to the door. She noticed Reggie, waiting and forgotten, just outside the threshhold. She swept past him without a word.
She managed to lose herself in the maze-like corridors and endless stairs. Her thoughts were so scattered, however, and her need to keep moving so great, she didn't stop to ask anyone around for directions. It was only when a calm commanding voice uttered her name from some distance behind her that she stopped.
Reggie caught up with her with unhurried strides. Jasmine turned to face him and waited.
"Where are you going?"
It was a simple enough question, spoken in neutral curiosity. Yet her mind was blank, unable to compute for a moment. "Where else?" she rasped. "Home."
A light frown touched his brow. "Why don't we go get your car first? It's been done for ages, in fact Trey's started souping it up for his boy in case you don't want it anymore."
"I don't." Her reply was laconic. Apathy dulled the jewel-brightness of her eyes.
Reggie watched her closely before he inclined his head and agreed, "Of course not. But in case you change your mind and my nephew winds up a convicted car thief, can we just go and get it now?"
"Some other time," Jasmine said blithely. She couldn't bring herself to feel anything for her car. Or much of anything else for that matter. She took one step forward then stopped and thrust a frustrated hand through her hair. "Is this the way out? I don't know if I'm going in the right direction."
"Mm hm," Reggie agreed with mild sarcasm. "Might as well keep going, we'll get there."
When they reached the curb where his black car stood waiting, he turned to her. "I don't suppose you're willing to give me your address and let me take you home?"
"That isn't necessary," Jasmine said quickly. The refusal brought back a brief flicker of animation to her face. "Just go without me, I'll be fine."
Reggie was already halfway into the car. "Take care of yourself Ms. Fleet," he said and without another glance at her swung the door shut. He had entertained Lucia as well as herself that same afternoon; he, of course, had no further need of her.
Tiny maneuvered the car away from where she stood. She watched with remote attention until it was a mere speck in the distance.
Jasmine had no idea what she was supposed to feel. They had said their final goodbye and she was as indifferent to the fact as Reggie. Perhaps more so. She felt absolutely nothing.
* * *
The best part of working from home was the relative silence of the building in midmorning. It was conducive to the kind of focus that got Jasmine on a roll.
Not today, however.
Try as she might, she just couldn't ignore the clamor right outside her door. She'd determined the sounds were innocuous almost immediately and not, say, prelude to a break-in. Nevertheless, the din shredded her concentration.
Abandoning her laptop on the coffee table, she went to open the door to see what was going on. The previously empty apartment across from hers had its door ajar, an overstuffed dark green couch wedged half in, obviously stuck.
