The Plastic Face Part 2

By JESSie NW

Jessie Solomon grew up with a mother and father that have a strong stable relationship that has outlasted most connections. Why is the oldest child of three flailing through her life and completely unstable? Why can’t she see the forest for the trees? Her two sisters Jelly and Jerry are progressing and succeeding in life with few issues but on every turn, Jessie seems to hit a brick wall. When will her life come together and she can finally live happily ever after?
Then Darren tall dark and full of wonder swaggers into her life wanting to right all the wrongs that she’s encountered. He wants to be better than the husband she lost in an ATM robbery. However, he consistently falls short of any target he strives for to impress her. Darren has his own past to sort out, and as long as he keeps his secrets she will love, respect and trust him.
Jessie is an enigma, he loves her but he just can’t figure out who she is or what she wants.
Unfortunately, that makes two of them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Articulate Communication Publications, SLLC
• Release date: Sep 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370572007

JESSie NW

If you enjoy reading, you will enjoy reading THIS author. A precocious child from birth, who rolled over at three months, walked at seven months, talked at 11 months; graduated with honors from high school at 16 and always knew what she did and did not want, whether she got it or not. It is no wonder that JESSie, who is an avid reader and pacesetter, began her writing career while in a mid-life crisis. She is generous to a fault, subtle, energetic, pointed, deep thinking, funny, sarcastic, and a lover of games. All of which is seen in her writing style and her approach to characters' development. Her wit and charm will entice you to read further into the adventures, which envelope her characters and will seduce your senses and challenge your intelligence. You will not readily put down any of her books but will rather develop a taste for the sensuous, delightful and sublime.

Book preview

Thanks To: Eddie Edward Springer for loving me

‘because’ I had faults to love.

To: Donnie K. Nabors for being the catalyst of pain for me to learn lessons that no one else ever got close enough to teach me.

Thank you all for allowing me to be who I am today.

I send much love to each of you from all that am and hope to be.

~JESSie~

The Plastic Face

Jessie Solomon grew up with parents who enjoyed a strong, stable relationship that outlasted most connections. So why was the oldest of their three daughters flailing through her life, completely unstable? Why couldn’t she see the forest for the trees? Her two sisters, Jelly and Jerry, were progressing and succeeding in life with few issues; but at every turn, Jessie seemed to drive herself into one brick wall after another. When would her life come together? Would she ever live happily ever after?

Darren, tall dark and full of wonder, swaggered into her life, wanting to right all the wrongs that she encountered. He wanted to be better than the husband she lost in an ATM robbery. However, he consistently fell short of every target he aimed for to impress her. Darren had his own past to sort out, and as long as he kept his secrets she would love, respect and trust him.

The one thing that held his attention was her amazing smile. Despite how hectic or chaotic either of their lives became, her smile knocked him off his feet. Her single dimple drew Darren in to her world – with no escape.

They wanted to make a life that outsiders would envy and mimic. Darren could not understand how Jessica could smile, no matter how dire the situation or circumstances. Jessie was an enigma. Darren loved her but he just could not figure out who or what she really was, or what she really wanted.

Unfortunately, that made two of them.

Preface

McCarran International Airport

Las Vegas, Nevada

March 18, 2004

As I sit here at the gates, I am amazed at the turns my life has taken. How did I get here from there? Well … the history is amazing, not always pretty and often painful. Have I learned anything from the past – recent or otherwise? When do we really learn? How do we learn? Some only learn through pain and suffering; others, through watching others’ mistakes and/or rise to success. How do I learn that love is not for everyone and that healing really takes time? How much time does it take one human to love, hate or despise another? When is enough, enough?

Chapter Seven

The next seven months are tedious and stressful at best. Planning a wedding is no picnic; it is planning a wedding, which is work.  When I married the first time, I missed all the hoopla of planning and stressing. My family did all the work, and I showed up with bells on. I didn’t even have to pick out my dress. Is this why they have wedding planners? I guess so.  I send out a lifeline for help: a co-worker who loved Eddie to death - what a play on words.  She is out of work because of an injury to her shoulder, but has a flair for parties.  This wedding is destined to be a party, a big party; no, a massive party.  Five hundred guests are expected, but seven hundred invitations are mailed. In actuality, the room can only seat four hundred fifty, keeping room for the band and caterers.  Still, Darlene insists it is an obligatory courtesy to send out invitations to all family, friends, and Darren’s political cronies.  I do not like having politics mixed into my private life from day one.  This was supposed to be my – well, our - wedding day; instead, we will be sharing it with two United States Senators, a Governor, a raft of state legislators, the Mayor, his father, and four other council members seated at key tables which should have only family there.  However, these are on Darren’s side, so he calls those shots with only a slight rebut from me. Darlene says it is a good idea, that they will bring money and that that is the most important thing about a wedding.  Darren says that much juice at his wedding will only enhance his reputation and political prestige.  I say crap, crap and double crap: it is about romance and two people committing their lives to each other. Darlene says I live in a fantasy world when it comes to my personal life. 

Think about this as a merger, think about your marriage as you do your professional life, and you will find yourself happier than you have ever been.  You are not marrying Eddie again, you are marrying Darren; two different people, for two different reasons, she explains.

That is the same reason I am marrying Darren. I am adamant. Darlene glares.  No, I married Eddie because I loved him, I love him, yes, and I still love him and miss him tremendously.

You are confused and delusional. Get it together quick or you are headed for self-destruction.

Little did I know that those sage words would be the only thing this woman ever said to me of any value in her lifetime!

Five months later, it all becomes so clear to me that these are in fact two different men, with two different agendas, and I really did not see the forest for the trees. I am positive Darlene did not realize what she had prophesied, or the magnitude her prediction would have on my life.

We are down to three weeks before the wedding. Darren schedules a lunch date, books a room, and makes reservations for dinner.  He schedules us to pick up the marriage license and take professional pictures before dinner, then spend the last romantic night as an engaged couple. We sat for engagement pictures six months ago, so I am so confused about this professional set of pictures we are doing now. As far as I’m concerned, we are sneaking away in town, which is splendid. Darren insists on going to the room early to drop off the luggage.  He is acting strangely. He is a romantic at heart, or my flights of the imagination want to believe he is. Maybe he is getting cold feet; I know I’ve had my own doubts.  When we get to the room, he carries me over the threshold. Okay. Maybe he is just horny. It has been a few days.  Our schedules just do not meld like they used to, and the kids came up from Tennessee last weekend, filling the house with activity. Darren gives the bellman a tip, orders a bottle of champagne, and then starts the tub.  He knows I love my baths.

Baby, my divorce may not be final before the wedding day.  There, I said it.

My face is blank, but my eyes are watering.  I feel nothing; yes, I am numb; and yet this rage is boiling from within me, making me want to throw things and scream to the top of my lungs.  White girls always lock themselves in the bathroom; now I understand the reasoning.  My feet will not move; my brain races at a thousand miles an hour. How do I comment on a bomb being dropped on me like this?  The nerve of him bringing me here to Union Station in the middle of the afternoon to say he is married.  When did he get married? Is this the wife with the kids in Kentucky? What the hell?!

Excuse me? I smile.

Well, I thought she had signed the papers because I filed them, but ….

No. Excuse me. I said get out of my way, and step aside. I must pass you. I need you out of my sight!

I walk into the bathroom and watch as the tub almost runs over before I have the strength to turn the knobs.  I cannot stay in here all night.  At least he has learned to give me my space.  He only knocks on the door once; I think I hear the television.  How can he watch television at a time like this? Who is this retarded man? I do not know what to do or say. My cell phone is in my purse; my purse is on the bed. I pick up the phone in the bathroom and call Raven.  Hey girl.

What’s up with you? she replies.

Before I can answer, she goes on.

When is the bridal shower? I have not talked to you in days. How is everything going with your plans? I picked up my dress from the post office, it is beautiful, and I am not bringing my husband.

Raven goes on for about four minutes before she realizes I have not said a word.  She stops talking. 

What’s wrong? 

I do not have the heart to tell her. I am so embarrassed that I cannot share this with anyone.  I am engaged to a married man.  Invitations sent, my last fitting done, the hall booked, caterers paid, honeymoon waiting and no husband.

Just getting cold feet, needed a dose of home. The shower is next weekend at Darlene’s house.  I will give you directions; no, I will have her call you tomorrow.  Call you later, gotta go.  Smooches.

Click.

Raven Madison is my oldest friend from Chicago. Raven and I graduated high school together; we even write real letters to each other when the mood hits us. She is in the wedding, but not my maid of honor. I think this is a bone of contention for her but she is keeping this to herself. She is separated and may even be divorced by now; she hasn’t told me the details or even the ending. She is pretending to be supportive, and I’m good with that for now.

Sitting in what is now a steam room, my brain wonders around the ballroom of the Sheldon Concert Hall housed on