Tracy hung up the old rotary house phone Jasmine insisted they keep even though they both owned top of the line Apple phones that could do anything her desk top computer could do, and faster. Friday nights were always nice in their home. Nala, the maid, had been there during the day when both of them were at work and the place was spotless, rarely did either of them work on Saturdays, and it was the one day of the week they both agreed to no work talk.
Tracy sighed as she put the last of the dinner on the table and went to find her wife. Jasmine was rifling through the desk in the office.
“Hey, no work it’s Friday.”
“I’m not working,” Jasmine looked up from the pile of papers she had pulled out from the drawer. “I’m looking for our passports. I want to make sure they are still valid before we book this year’s vacation.”
“Oh,” Tracy perked up. “I put them in the safe when we got home last year, but I’m pretty sure both of them are good for another two years.”
“I’m just being cautious. I don’t want another Baja episode.”
“Well dinner’s ready, come eat.”
“Dinner?” Jasmine raised an eyebrow at the thought of Tracy cooking. “You didn’t cook did you? The last time you cooked it took us over two hours to clean all the bolognaise sauce from the counters and floor.”
“Ha Ha,” Tracy let out a fake laugh. “Not to mention the ceiling. I never knew the top of a pan could explode straight up. No, I didn’t cook. I called Babbo’s and ordered delivery. Everything is sitting on table warmers waiting for us.”
“Ok and we can finally decide where we want to go this year. Maybe a cruise.” Jasmine grabbed the passports and followed Tracy out of the office.
“Katie called, she wants to have a family dinner next week. She said something about exciting news she wants to share with us all.”
“She’s already announced she’s marring that bumkin. I wonder if she’s already contemplating divorce.” Jasmine laughed.
“He’s not exactly a bumkin. He’s a university graduate who comes from a wealthy family and has in the last few years proven his own business savvy.”
“Yeah, I know. I just have bad experiences with that family. His mother is a ruthless, controlling, lying bitch. It’s even rumored she killed her husband because he didn’t support a business deal she wanted.”
The sweet smell of Italian red sauce mixed with the savory scents of garlic bread and red wine washed over them as they slipped into their seats at the elegantly set table for two. Any tension in the room melted away as the clean and steady teardrop flame quietly burned between them.
Tracy had taken the time to set up the table with food, candles, and long-stemmed wine glasses to create a beautifully romantic night. Tracy had been waiting for this night all week. After five years of marriage the decision has been made to increase their family by two. The problem they had had was finding a sperm bank and fertility doctor willing to follow their plan. Their plan was simple. Two sperm donors, one African American for Tracy and one Caucasian for Jasmine, to create two beautiful mixed babies to be born by c-section on the same day. Provided, of course, that the insemination was successful together and the babies were healthy.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on,” Tracy’s smooth sultry voice dripped of sincere love she had for Jasmine. “I have but one question for you.”
“Yes,” Jasmine smiled and let out a small happy sigh. “I do love you too. But I think you already know that.”
“Yes, I do. The question is, are you ready to have our perfect little world invaded by tiny little mess making bundles of chaos?”
“Huh?” Jasmine was confused.
“Dr. Hossman’s office called, and she has agreed to take us as clients. We are on our way to having a couple little babies!”If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Ahhhhh!” Jasmine screeched jumping up from the table and ran to Tracy. “We’re going to be great mommies.”
Jasmine swung the chair that Tracy was sitting in 180 degrees to face her and quickly straddled her lap. Taking her face in the palm of her hands Jasmine pulled her close and placed her dark red lips onto Tracy’s and sighed heavily into her.
“I love you more and more every day,” her soft voice echoed into the room around them. “You are my everything and nothing can change that.”
Tracy’s eyelids slowly closed as she felt her body melt into the soft yearning emanating from Jasmine. Each second passing by feeling like an eternity of love enveloping the two women.
In a smooth single motion Jasmine reached over and turned off the warmers on the table and reached for the thin sliver zipper keeping the front of Tracy’s dress firmly encased around her full heaving breasts.
“Let’s move this party to the bedroom,” Jasmine whispered as she slide off of Tracy’s lap.
“Yes, please.”
Tracy stood up and quickly blew out the candles before slipping her slim fingers into Jasmines hot hand so she could guide her into the bedroom. Before they could make their escape into the private sanctuary of their bedroom the doorbell rang.
“Ignore it,” Jasmine sighed.
“It could be something from work, or the clinic.”
“Ok,” Jasmine pouted and slowly zipped up Tracy’s dress and headed towards the door. “Who is it?”
“GTL Delivery Service, I have a package for Jasmine Bender.”
Jasmine opened the door and accepted the large thick manilla envelope from a shaggy-haired teenager wearing an orange vest with the GTL logo embroidered on the chest.
“Thank you,” Jasmine handed the boy a crisp $20 as a tip and closed the door. “It’s from my mother’s lawyer.”
“I thought your mother’s estate was settled last month.”
“It was,” Jasmine slipped into the corner of the couch as she opened up the manilla envelope and pulled out a thick manuscript and a three-page handwritten letter. “It’s my mother’s writing.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and the sultry need to make love was replaced with an immense overwhelming desire to hold her mothers’ hand, help her mother cook a batch of Malva Pudding on Christmas eve, or even hear her prattle on about the neighbor’s yappy dog. The loss was still fresh and the whole in her heart bled every day over the loss of the only person in her life to give her unconditional love before she met Tracy.
“Tracy,” Jasmine looked up from the letter before reading it. “I love you, not just with words, every cell in my body feels pulled to you. There is nothing in my life more important than us.”
“I know, we are safe. What does your mother have to say?”
Jasmine read the letter out loud.
Dearest Jazz,
If you are reading this it means I failed to gather the courage to pass along some very important information regarding our family traditions and legacy before I died. There is much about our history that is mired in mystery and lore I never wanted to drag you into the past when your future was so bright.
Enclosed is a photocopy of a book. I know you’ve seen this book because we have had some conversations regarding its value. This book, Book of Shadow’s Black Dove Coven, is currently located at the University of Oxford. Their antiquities program in one of the best in the world and they are keeping the original book in a very controlled atmosphere to help preserve it.
Here is the hard truth. Your ancestry can trace a straight line to the Aja peoples of Nigeria who practiced the art of voodoo, which has the power you give it and is passed down genetically. Our family has always been both blessed and cursed with this power.
From the age of two I knew this power was strong in you. I failed to teach you to develop this power, I’m sorry for that. For a moment think about all the fortuitous opportunities that have come to you seemingly out of the blue. Look at the little things like knowing when the phone was going to ring before it rang to the big things like seeing visions while you’re lying in bed ready to fall asleep at night.
But the importance of having this information isn’t about the past, it’s about what can happen in your present. Something big is coming, how soon it gets here I can’t determine, but you must acknowledge this magical power that is innate within you. Please take the time to read the BOS and remember all the stories I’ve told you. To fill in the blanks I’ve left a list and contact information of some others that will be able to assist you to understand what you are reading.
Above all remember that love, the kind of love you have with Tracy, is rare and can ignite the magical spark in any person. Stay safe, keep the ones you love close, and never doubt your abilities.
Always in your heart,
Mom
Margaret Jane Price
(632) 430-6323
Shayla Wells
(632) 432-1255
Josephine Mantles
(310) 622-8482
Bernice Sharad
(522) 630- 4862
Candice Cummings (University of Oxford)
+44 1865 270000
Jasmine laid her head into Tracy’s lap and began to sob. The heavy silence filled the air like spring pollen from newly blossomed cherry trees in the city park. The minutes ticked away slowly until Tracy’s eyes landed on the last page of the letter.
“Hey, Margaret Jane Price is my mother. I wonder what she knew about this.
“I don’t know,” Jasmine sat up picking up the letter again. “Isn’t Josepine Mantles Jacob’s mother?”