Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Soiled goods

Jasmine has been in the best mood tonight. I don’t know if it’s the detachment from the women at work or the marriage license or that the babies are okay or what, but it’s been nice.

Saturday, Jazz and I drove to SAKS to pick up Ivy’s wedding dress for her. In fact, Ivy was supposed to drive in this weekend and pick it up but Jasmine let her know we may not be home until Sunday night. She shit a gold brick. I don’t see what the big fucking deal is. She still has it for alterations Monday morning, she just can’t sleep in my damn house Saturday night when she comes in. Jasmine and Ivy argued over the phone and Jazz got pretty pissed on this end. Ivy wants it Saturday. Period. Jasmine wants 48 hours alone with me after we’re married. Can you blame her? Have you seen my ass? Ivy is showing up Saturday, regardless, and Jasmine’s mad because she knows she’ll cave in and be here.

It got pretty ugly and ended with Jasmine’s angry voice. The angry voice has an origin in their past and Jazz only uses it when Ivy’s at her worst. This is where the story can go one of two ways right here. For one, I could tell you why Ivy is the snit that she is and possibly generate some understanding and remorse in most of you. Or, I can tell you what really naughty thing I did tonight at Ivy’s expense. I think I’ll go with the latter.

Afterwards, Jazz was lying on the sofa with her head in my lap.

“Speaking of gowns,” she said, “What should I wear Friday?”

"Levi’s." But then I got a better idea. “Wear Ivy’s gown.” Oh yeah, that would piss off little Sis.

Jasmine sat straight up and smiled at me with her eyes wide. “She’d be so mad!”

Oh, fuck, I wasn’t serious. “Don’t wear that thing. I was playing.”

The gown is hanging from the curtain rod thing in the living room which appeared a few weeks ago while I was at my old man's. Jasmine jumped up and unzipped the bag. The dress is white and strapless. That’s about all I can say about it. And that it was a cool 5 g’s.

She unhinged it from the mega hanger they had it strapped to and laid it across the chair. That’s when she yanked her shirt off. “What in the hell are you doing?” Damn her knockers are huge. Did that just happen?

She wiggled out of her sweat pants and then started climbing into the silk monstrosity. “Zip me up.”

I felt my heart start racing. Oh please, don’t want a wedding now. Come on, don’t want a gown and all that shit. “How are you gonna get your belly into that thing?”

I watched her twist and writhe for a moment trying to zip it herself before I gave up and helped. She grunted, hopped and shifted. Not sure what all that accomplished, but she was mostly in it. The zipper wouldn’t go all the way and when she turned around I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw her boobs bulging out the top.

Damn, she sure was pretty. "Now what are you gonna do?"

I love that shit-eating grin of hers. "Come here, Jay."

Oh, man. I didn't hesitate.

That gown will never be the same.