Reality

Somewhere in an upscale gated community in St Andrew.

Judge Mathew Ebanks mused over his notes of the day's proceedings, sipping a glass of his favourite brandy. The warmth of the panelled walls of his study matched the heat that the alcohol provided to his veins.

"Emmmph," he moaned while his callused feet were being rubbed. "Right there Rose, right there, you have hit the spot," Mathew smiled in pleasure.

"Ok love. Did you have a rough day, Mathew?"

Mathew chuckled, "Rose in almost thirty years of jurisprudence I had the best day ever. A few days ago, I saw the look on the face of the man who broke my baby's heart while he was carted off in chains."

"Who?" Rose gasped. "Certainly not Quinton?"

"Nobody breaks my daughter's heart and gets away with it Rose, the poor girl was almost committed after what that son of a bitch did. I don't care that I nodded and approved his incarceration when the Clerk of the Court slipped me the file. He was just in my court grandstanding as usual. But Rose, I got my revenge."

"What did he do Mathew?" Rose asked anxiously.

"He is accused of murder Rose. The investigators believe he might be a hitman," Mathew replied almost laughing in response.

"No! Mathew, that can't be right at all. I know Quinton. He might be many things but not a murderer!" Rose replied with a quizzical look on her face. Her thumbs slowed on the balls of Mathew's feet.

"Rose, you know that I can't discuss matters that are before me, I know he might have some grounds to appeal that I should have recused myself, since I was once his father-in-law, but I don't care. I hope by now he is locked away in some hole and lost forever in the justice system."

"Mathew you can't mean that! This does not sound anything like the Quinton that I knew. Have you said anything to Laura?"

"No why should I?"

"Surely you don't believe that Quinton is capable of such things, he was once your son-in-law and at one time you even wanted him to take over your practice. This must be a mistake," Rose said.

Her concern spilled from her lips like the drops of lotion from her hands on the parquet floor.

Mathew shook his head. "Don't stop rubbing my feet Rose, I felt the tension easing in my head and shoulders. You might be right about it Rose, but do we really know anybody these days? Let the evidence speak for itself, but from where I sat. It was the best day ever."

"Mathew, I think Laura still loves that boy and it would also mean that you are a very poor judge of character. Imagine your one-time son-in-law a hitman! I would love to be a fly on the wall, when the news of this hits the other jurists on the bench, the Chief Justice."

Rose watched as Mathew gulped the last swill of brandy down his throat.

"Ahh crap. Why am I discussing legal matters with you Rose? You are not an attorney, just my…," his voice drifted off as her hand slid further up his hairy leg.

"Mathew Ebanks, you and I know that cases are never decided in the courtrooms, but in the backrooms or verandas or on the golf courses. I remember back in the days when we used to argue the legal merits of the defence while the household slept," Rose countered.

"Rose, only you and know what used to happen back in the good old day. I tried to get you back on course to attend Norman Kindley Law School, but…," Mathew replied. His tone was soft and tender as her hand found its target.

"Rose!" Mathew responded with a low-pitched voice as he almost jumped from his chair.

His sudden movement shook the mahogany desk. Laura's picture rattled. Rose laughed as her hand trailed off his inner thigh.

"I was just checking if I still had the touch Judge Dread."

Mathew laughed, "You and I know that moniker is just a sham, I am nothing like that, but what you said about Quinton might be right. People will start to question my judgement."

He started to rub the back of his neck and stretch his limbs.

"Rose, Rose, what have you started? What if the boy was innocent and was being set up?"

"Stop fretting Mathew, the past is the past, we could be all fooled, but I would think that some discreet enquiries on your part would be in order and just like how we were discreet in the past Mathew, use your head. We live in a very dangerous country. Everybody in the circuit knows your disdain for Quinton Lockheed, it could bring your house down if the information falls in the wrong hands. I know you have ambitions of becoming Chief Justice one day. I am sure you have enemies on the bench," Rose said softly.

"Rose, how and why didn't I marry you?" Mathew asked.

The light from the moon reflected on his lined forehead and balding dome. His receding hairline and greying temples of his hair captured a mature look as he stared adoringly at Rose. His eyes softened and his expression revealed the feelings that he had for the plump, dark skinned woman who was massaging his feet.

Rose sighed heavily, "Mathew, you know the answers to that already, the society would have never embraced our union. We are from different sides of the tracks. Even though, you married Clarice, the daughter of a senator and produced Laura in a loveless marriage, I would always have been seen as the daughter of a line of household workers leaching on the coat tails of my master's son."

Her shoulders sank and her eyes glossed over.

"I thought you said the past is the past Rose. We have been friends for years and have both benefited from our once unholy alliance. Lincoln is a better man these days, running his company. Your husband, though useless and stuck in a wheelchair will have his medical expenses taken care of until the day I close my eyes," Mathew said while gently rubbing his fingers up her arm.

"Or him dying," Rose replied with a little spark in her eyes and voice. "Oops that might not have sounded right coming from a wife as if I was confessing to a judge, but it's not easy to take care of him and then there are the times when a woman has her needs," Rose mumbled as she tried to explain her gleeful outburst.

"I understand Rose," Mathew replied caringly.

"At least Clarice's head comes and goes, but yes, I understand perfectly, besides at our age sex is a memory and figment of our imaginations. I know you would never harm a hair on your husband's head."

"Cho, Mathew, speak for yourself, I'm in my prime and would not mind some hard long rides until the sun comes up. It feels like an eternity since Paul's accident," Rose replied sadly.

"Hey, Rose, it's ok. Maybe one day, we could re-enact the good old days between us," Mathew jeered.

"Mathew Ebanks, you are so terrible. You should be worried about telling Laura about Quinton and the implications it could possibly have on you and not be trying to torture a horny middle-aged woman about the days of her youth being ridden by a horny, white, billy goat on his return from college overseas."

They chuckled in unison while Rose watched as Mathew poured another glass of brandy.

"Come, Rose, drink up, to the good old days."

Their glasses clinked together as the pair chatted and laughed quietly way into the night.

Early the next day

"Hey, Miss Rose. Finally, the derelict building beside the house was being torn down!" Laura shouted while she watched from her balcony with glee as the earth-shaking pieces of equipment tore through the building as if it were paper.

For years she had written to the authorities about the old house and that it had become a nest not only for four footed vermin, but the two footed ones who plagued her fruit trees and played loud music late into the wee hours of the morning.

"Yes," Laura whispered.

She had heard that the property had been sold, but nobody in the community knew to whom it had been sold. The skyline around the city had been changing rapidly with high rise living becoming the new paradigm.

"I hope they are just going to clear the land and leave it," she shouted to the helper. "But my gut tells me that I have opened a can of worms on my doorstep Miss Rose."

"What do you mean Miss Laura?"

Rose asked as she knelt to scrub the bathtub. Her short skirt rose and Laura glimpsed the derailed red panty and swore she saw the black pepper-lined bank of one jaw of Rose's unmentionable parts.

Laura blushed.

"Miss Rose, mind you blind me," Laura exclaimed while pointing her index finger.

"Lawd, Miss Laura have you not never seen the garden before? I am sure you have a pretty one. Just like how your skin pretty and Munroe so. I know we are just two women here so nutten nuh wrong if you saw anything. After all is the same thing that we both have. Mine is more used of course, but yours nuh even unwrap yet," Rose said softly.

Laura wanted to laugh but she knew how rude the middle-aged woman could be. However, Rose was right. Men could walk around topless or in their underpants, why shouldn't women be allowed to do the same, especially if they were alone? Laura looked again and sighed Miss Rose's own was much plumper than hers.

But then that was why Laura was the boss, and Rose was the helper cleaning her bathroom. God never made us all equal. Some have beauty and brains, while some have sexy physiques and brawn. Laura thought trying to fend off the barb that Miss Rose had thrown earlier.

"So what? Good men are so hard to find and it is better to die almost a virgin than to have ten Dick, Tom or Harry planting their posts in my flat post hole!" Laura replied as she walked back to her home office.

Miss Rose was curvaceous and plump but had to resort to domestic work to feed and take care of her expenses. She was a looker in her earlier days and told the stories how men waited on her hand and foot to date the chocolate bombshell. But time had caught up on her and after six children with a paralysed husband, the chocolate bombshell had to learn how to swallow her pride and do domestic work to survive.

Laura chuckled as she sat at her desk and rested her hands between her own legs.

"Flat bridge, don't let me end up like Miss Rose."

The thought of growing old and alone tormented her sometimes and Miss Rose rubbed it in every chance she had. Laura looked in the mirror at her reflection. Her pale, white skin of her face was framed by her hair that looked like wet hay. Her thin, pink lips matched her thin, straight nose and her hazel, blue eyes twinkled. Oh boy to be born white in this country felt like a curse. The full-body women even have their own quote, 'more cushion for the pushing.' They get all the attention and all Laura ever heard from men is 'ah never eat a white meat yet.'

Darn, she was 35 and still a divorced virgin. Crap. Ms Rose's eldest son Roddrick was almost her age and he was always drooling when he looked at her while he licked his lips. But she knew that he wasn't her type. Why couldn't she find a decent older man with money to love her? What would she be doing with a taxi driver, even though he had four or five cars and bus on the road? Grandpa would turn in his grave. She sighed. Roddrick was handsome in his own way. His body seemed carved out of stone. He must have worked at several physical jobs to have toned his muscles. Her body throbbed in frustration.

"Miss Laura, Miss Laura."

Rose was almost shouting from the balcony and it startled Laura for a second.

"Not even a little fantasy I am able to have? Bwoy oh bwoy," Laura said softly.

"I wonder if Rose knows that her precious Roddrick has been sending me messages?" Laura muttered under her breath.

Miss Rose stood on the balcony and looked next door at the gathering of men and equipment. Her blouse was soaked through to her skin and her huge nipples pitched tents in the fabric.

"Miss Rose, they can see us staring at them and you a little too sexy. If they look up, they will see straight into your morning," Laura said through her clenched teeth.

"Miss Laura, my morning would not mind some eyesight or even some vigorous action. Paul, my husband, has been paralysed from the waist down six years now. A woman can only take so much and no more lip service. I'm only fifty, Ms Laura. I am not old and cold. I want some strong, black, long coffee from a big cup to fill me up and make me sweat. Like that one on the blue jumper over there. The one with the square and the level in his hands. Look at his shoulders Laura, broad and strong, rippling with muscles. Look at the size of his boots. You do know what they say about the size of a man's shoe and his tool don't you Laura?" Ms Rose asked.

"Miss Rose, shhhh," Laura begged, "You are so loud."

Laura wanted to melt as she the man below looked up and his eyes met hers. His smile spread across his face revealing two dimples in his cheek.

"Yes, fadda," Miss Rose whispered.

"Did you see that? As easy as that mi break the ice for you Miss Laura. Invite him for a cool drink and it's all over," Rose smiled and patted her tummy.

"What?' Laura asked.

"Don't you see how hot the sun is Miss Laura and he is sweating. Just imaging him sweating like that between my thighs oh gosh Ms Laura," Rose replied.

"Do you really think is for me Miss Laura?"

"You are just so awful Rose," Laura whispered and walked back inside.

The khaki skirt blew up just as she turned, and the heat of the sun touched her pale cheeks. A wolf whistle came from next door as Laura blushed and scampered into her office.

"Miss Rose you see what you caused!" Laura shouted through her fingers.

Rose beamed with pride and winked.

"Hooked him, now to bait him," she responded.

"I wonder when and if your father will tell you about your ex-husband?" Rose muttered to herself.