Am I My Ex-Wife's Keeper?

"Hello."

"This is the Admissions Desk at Conners Memorial Hospital. Is this Timothy Hardaway?"

"Yes."

"And are you married to Jasmine Hardaway?"

"Not now. We were married but we divorced almost 15 years ago."

"Well, you're still listed as her emergency contact and POA. She was brought to the Emergency Room unconscious. We really need someone here to give us information on her and permission to treat. Can you come?"

"How bad is she?"

"We can go over that when you come. She might regain consciousness before you get here, but we don't want to take the chance. Please, can you come?"

"Of course, I'll be there as soon as possible." He hung up and went into the living room to put his jacket on.

"Tim, who was that on the phone? Are you going somewhere?"

"It was the hospital. My ex-wife Jasmine was brought into the Emergency Room unconscious. They need someone who can provide medical information on her. I'm going to the hospital now."

Abby got up and ran towards her husband, "Hold on! Tim, you have no obligation to that woman anymore. You said you wouldn't have anything else to do with her. I don't think you should go. Your obligation is to me and Jessie now."

"Abby, I have to go. She is hurt, and my information may be able to help her get the right treatment. I know you don't care for her but think of it this way: If she hadn't cheated on me, we might never have gotten married and together had the most precious girl in the world. All I plan to do is to give them some medical information."

"That better be all."

"Of course, dear."

Tim exceeded the speed limit to get to the hospital. He had time though to remember Jasmine: their dating, their wedding, and six years of mostly married bliss. But there had also been the intense sorrow over two miscarriages and finally, her affair with her boss that turned into her becoming the company whore. He tried begging her to repent, but she was hooked on the lifestyle of multiple partners and the financial perks that came her way. He finally gave in and divorced her. Tim had heard that Jasmine had eventually gotten fired from the company and turned to escorting and prostitution to support herself. He felt sorry for her and even felt some guilt for not being able to be enough husband that would have prevented her from seeking other men.

Tim entered the Emergency Room and went to the admission window. He was escorted back the room where she was being treated. Jasmine was awake now and they didn't need him to give any information or permission. As it turned out, her head injuries were not as serious as first feared. When she saw Tim, she started crying. Given her bloody and battered appearance, Tim's bad memories of her betrayal were minimalized. He couldn't help but cry too at the sight of her. Tim went over and hugged her as she sat up in the bed. She grabbed him tight saying over and over again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what all she was sorry about, but his heart was wounded by seeing her current emaciated body decorated with a variety of tattoos, bruises, cuts and one visible cigarette burn. Jasmine's right ankle and wrist were also bandaged but not in casts. Dried blood was on her clothes and the part of her head uncovered by bandages. In addition, there was a nasty cut to her head that had been stitched with those super band-aids.

"I can't believe you came, Tim. I didn't ask them to call you. I swear."

"Is there someone else I can call for you -- husband, boyfriend, family?"

"No. I don't have anyone. My family disowned me years ago. Tim, I don't have any money and I don't have a place to stay now. My damned pimp kicked me out of the apartment he was keeping me in. I don't know where to go or what to do." More tears came flowing out.

"Is your pimp the one who did this to you?"

"Yes and no. He didn't touch me himself, but he had two of his goons do it."

"Have you talked to the police yet?"

"No. He would kill me for sure if I did that. I just need a safe place to rest up while I recover."

"Do you think he is looking for you now?"

"Probably not, he said he never wanted to see me again and warned what would happen to me if I tried to hook independently in his territory."

Tim quickly realized that he had a dilemma. His natural reaction to anyone in need was to offer help. It was stronger in this case because he knew the person who needed help, intimately at one time. He knew, however his wife would probably disagree with helping his ex-wife, maybe even to the point of threatening divorce if he brought her home. Scanning Jasmine's battered body once again with his eyes, his need to help won out. "You can stay with us for a while, until you get better."

"Us? Does that mean you're still re-married?"

"Yes, my wife's name is Abby, and we have an adorable but precocious 13-year- old daughter, Jessie." He smiled at the thought of his daughter.

"I was so glad to hear that you are still remarried. You deserved a good wife and family after what I did to you. But Tim, that's the reason I can't accept your kind offer. I don't want to cause any trouble for you with your family. I doubt your wife wants your ex living in the same house, especially one who sells her body as her occupation."

"Your acceptance of our assistance shouldn't cause any trouble in our home. My wife is a kind, caring Christian person at heart. You and I may no longer be married, but you are still someone I care about. Jasmine, you need help, so you are coming with me, at least for a few days. I won't take 'no' for an answer so you might as well give in."

Jasmine reviewed her options in her mind. It didn't take long. There weren't much to choose from. "I guess I don't have much choice. Okay, I'll go with you, but I promise I'll only stay long enough to get on my feet. Speaking of which, they are bringing some crutches for me and then we can go."

*****

RETURN HOME

Abby was anxiously alert as Tim opened the door to their house. Abby saw him coming in and wondered why he stayed in the doorway so long, then she saw him holding the storm door open behind him. A woman on crutches came vaulting into the living room. Abby stood in shock at the scene. Here was a painfully skinny woman in a torn outfit that barely covered any of her multi-tattooed skin. She wore industrial-strength makeup and had black streaks coming down from both eyes. The hair that was not covered by a bandage was matted with what she assumed was dried blood. The woman looked every bit the used up old whore she probably was.

"Abby, I imagine you've figured out that this is my ex-wife, Jasmine. She needs a place to stay for a few days and I offered to let her stay here until she is able to take care of herself."

The look of shock on Abby's face was evident to Tim and Jasmine. That look was followed by an angry stare. "Tim, can I talk to you a minute -- alone?"

"Okay. Jasmine needs time to take a shower and get cleaned up anyway. Can you get her some of your clothes to wear when she finishes while I show her to the downstairs bathroom?"

A perturbed Abby huffed, "There's a bag of my old clothes in the kitchen I was planning to take to Goodwill tomorrow. She can use them. I know I certainly don't plan on wearing them again."

Tim went into the kitchen leaving Abby and Jasmine staring at each other. It was similar to two gunmen facing each other in the street in an Italian western, waiting for the other to draw first. Neither was willing to make the first move. Soon, Tim returned holding some clothes in his hands.

Jasmine spoke before Tim got far into the living room. "I don't think I should stay Tim. I don't want to cause any trouble between you and your wife."

"Nonsense, now go on to the bathroom and clean up. It's the first door on the right after the staircase. We can talk afterwards."

Jasmine maneuvered her crutches down the hallway, went in the bathroom, and after Tim showed her where everything was, closed the door. Soon water could be heard coming from the shower head. Tim and Abby could talk now. He followed his wife to the kitchen.

"Abby, Jasmine was beaten up and kicked out of her apartment by her pimp. She needs a safe place to heal up. We have the space."

"Tim, are you out of your ever-loving mind? Bringing a whore into a house with your wife and a 13-year-old girl living here? I hope that you don't think that I agree with you doing that. Sweetheart, she is not some stray puppy like the ones you are always rescuing, get fixed and find people to adopt her. Now, please give her some money but make her go away somewhere else and let someone else take care of her."

"There is no one else to help her. Please Abby, where is your Christian charity? Jasmine is a woman in desperate need of help, and we can afford to give her some. I can't in good conscience turn her away."

"Charity? What you are wanting to do is insanity, not charity. Let me be clear, I do not want to have THAT woman staying in this house . . . Oh, my God. Please, please tell me you don't still have feelings for her?"

"Abby, Jasmine and I were married for over six years, for God's sake. Of course, I have feelings for her, but those are not romantic feelings anymore. My main feeling for her right now is pity. She's in bad shape in lots of ways."

"Tim, I know you are a good, kind-hearted man and you want to help people in need, but you have to learn you can't help all the people in the world who need help. There are too many and some are too dangerous. Honey, we have to draw the line somewhere with our charity. In this instance, I am drawing the line right here -- at the threshold of our house. I am telling you, if you let her stay, I will not lift one solitary finger to help her."

"Fine, I will get her settled in the guest room downstairs by myself."

Abby was shocked that Tim didn't immediately capitulate. She was beside herself trying to find a way to make Tim understand the seriousness of what she was saying. She thought and thought of something to say that would make him change his mind. The first thing she could think to say was, "Tim, how do you know she won't rob us blind during the night?"

By this time, Jasmine had finished showering and walked on her crutches into the last part of the conversation. "Don't worry about me, Abby. I'll wait until it's light before I rob you."

Tim admonished her. "Jasmine, you're not helping with snide comments like that."

"Sorry Tim, you know I can't pass up a good chance for sarcasm."

Jessie came down dressed in her pajamas. She interrupted the conversation, "Mom, Dad, what the heck is going on down here? Who is that old person in your clothes, Mom? Is she homeless? I hope so. It would be so cool to meet a real homeless person."

"Jessie, this is my ex-wife, Jasmine. She needs a place to stay for a while and we're going to help her. Jasmine, this is our daughter Jessie."

Jessie squealed, "Did you say I'm her daughter?!"

"No, dear I said you are OUR daughter with the 'our' meaning your mother, Abby and me."

"Shucks, that would have been so neat to tell everyone at school that I have a mother I never knew about show up out of the blue."

"Jessie!"

"Chill, mom. How long is she staying? Can she stay in my room and bunk with me?"

"Heavens no! We haven't for sure decided yet IF she is staying. Tim, we need to talk some more - in private. Jessie, I'll take your butt back upstairs. It's way past your bedtime." Abby was hoping Tim would take the hint and Jasmine would not be there when she came back downstairs.

Once in Jessie's room, the girl asked, "Mom, was Dad really married to that woman before he married you?"

"Yes, dear. I'm afraid so."

"But she looks so . . . so . . . old and ugly and skinny and dirty and sickly and . . . and yucky. I have trouble imagining Dad could have ever married a woman who looked like her."

"Well, she didn't look like that before."

"What happened to her?"

"There's no delicate way to explain. The truth is that one day, she decided to sell her body to men for money. Some women of low morals have done that since the beginning of civilization, unfortunately. We call women like her 'prostitutes.' When your father found out, he divorced her as well he should have."

"'Prostitute' is the same thing as a whore, right?"

"That's another less-proper term people have used."

"Cool, wait until I tell my friends we have a whore living with us!"

"You will not do anything of the kind, young lady! You get under the covers now. I am going down and do everything I can to convince your father to take her somewhere else if she is still here. She is NOT our responsibility."

"Aw, Mom, I have a lot of questions I would like to ask her about being a prostitute. Maybe an article for our student newspaper. If she stays, can I ask her in the morning if she is still here?"

"I can't believe you, child. Where have I gone wrong in raising you? Now get to bed and don't come downstairs again tonight."

"Okay, but how am I going to learn things if you won't let me ask questions?"

Abby went downstairs where Timothy was putting sheets on the bed in the guest bedroom. Jasmine was getting something to eat in the kitchen. Abby entered the guestroom and closed the door behind her.

"Tim, stop. We have not finished discussing whether or not that woman should stay in this house."

"Abby, I know this is difficult for you, but I sincerely believe this is the right thing to do. What are you so concerned about? You don't really think she would rob us, do you?"

"I am concerned that we have let a prostitute, a whore, a street walker in our house and can't believe you don't see there is a problem. I remind you that prostitution is not legal in this state, so she is in fact a criminal. Women like her are usually on drugs. If she is, she probably is not above stealing money or valuables from us to buy drugs. Don't you realize that addicts don't care about anything except their next fix? And for all we know, she may be bringing an incurable venereal disease like AIDS into our home. Tim, we have an impressionable teenage daughter living under our roof who wants to interview her like she was writing a column for a school paper. Don't any of those things bother you?"

"The doctor found no drugs in her tox screen. No one in this house is going to have sex with her to transmit any diseases she might or might not have. Hopefully, our daughter will learn that charity means sacrificing some of our comfort to help someone else. As far as your concern about her profession, what about the Biblical story of Jesus and the prostitute at the well?"

"Don't you dare try and twist Bible stories around to justify your actions. Jesus didn't bring the prostitute home to his wife to stay with him and his daughter. Tim, don't you remember what that woman did to you or are you just remembering the times when she was your loving wife, before she started selling her body?"

"My love for a wife is now reserved for you and only you. Our bond is even stronger because we have a daughter together. Without question, my primary commitment is to you and Jessie, but that doesn't mean I can't have compassion for others, including my ex-wife."

"Tim, if you love me and our daughter like you say you do, you won't ask me to let Jasmine to stay in this house."

Tim got an angry look on his face Abby had never seen before. "Abby don't you ever give me a 'If you love me' ultimatum again. My love for you does not depend on you doing something for me, likewise, your love for me can't depend on such things either. You have praised me before for being one of the most charitable men you ever knew. Now, you want me to turn away a woman in need? How many times have we helped out relatives, friends, neighbors and fire and flood victims? Most of the latter category were people we didn't even know the names of. Jasmine is someone I know, and she needs help that we can afford to give. As far as I'm concerned, that's the end of the story."

Abby was furious now and didn't hold back her feelings. "I guess that is supposed to make everything different. While you're at it, why don't you just move her into the master bedroom and let her have any of my newer clothes she wants? You might as well sleep with her too. Poor women, she probably hasn't had sex in the last 30 minutes. You can help her with that too for all I care."

"Abby, jealousy does not become you. We are helping a human being regain some semblance of self-support. Nothing more. Now help me finish making the bed or leave and let me do it."

"Hold it right there, mister! This is my house too and I say that woman is not staying! Tim, make a choice, either send her away or . . . or . . . I will take Jessie and go live with my mother."

Timothy sighed loudly and spoke as if holding his temper. "I just warned you about ultimatums. I believe I'll take the third option."

"I didn't give you three options."

"Option 3 is for me to take Jasmine and get a room in a motel. One with two beds. One for her and one for me."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Jasmine came hobbling on her crutches into the room wearing Abby's robe. "It sounds like I need to go, Tim."

"If you go Jasmine, I go."

"Go then, Tim and take the whore with you. See if I care."

"Jasmine, wait here while a get a few of my things. We can stop at Walmart and get what you need for the night and tomorrow."

"Tim, just forget it. I ruined our marriage, and I don't want to harm your current marriage. Just let me leave."

"Jasmine, I'm doing what my conscience says is the right thing to do. I will be going to a motel room tonight whether you agree to come with me or not. I can't stay here tonight knowing my wife can be so hard-hearted and hard-headed. I have to live with my conscience even if it means not living temporarily with my wife." He went upstairs.

Turning to Jasmine, Abby said, "Now, look what you've done. It has taken me years to get him over the heartbreak from your slutty actions before your divorce. God forgive me but I wish you were dead!"

"Abby, that's been a real option I've considered several times during my life including now. If you've got a gun handy, I'll do it right away. Oh, in case you're wondering, I'll go outside so I don't stain your carpet with my blood."

"I wish I had a gun to give you. You might as well leave now. There is no way Tim will leave me and our daughter. He's just bluffing about leaving to get me to cave and let you stay here. You better go before he comes back down!"

"I was going to, but the way I've seen you treat Tim makes me want to piss you off as much as I can. I owe him a lot. He was a wonderful husband and lover. I treated him like shit, and I've been punished for it, but I'll be damned if I will let anyone else do it to him too."

Tim came down the stairs. He had one bag with him. "Last chance, Abby. Do both of us stay or do both of us go?"

"Tim, she just admitted that she wants to stay here just to spite me. I think she plans to destroy our marriage and get you back. Can't you see that?"

"Is that true, Jasmine? If so, that's not going to happen."

"Not when I first came here. The more words I hear from the mouth of that 'thing' you married, the more I would love to rescue you. Tim, I know you. You couldn't leave her long term because of your daughter and because, unlike me, you keep your vows. Jessie needs you, especially with a mother like her in the house. Give me a little money, drop me off at a motel, and I'll be out of your life again."

"Abby, I think I need to leave this house no matter if it's with Jasmine or not. Tonight, you've shown me a side of you I have never seen before nor thought I ever would see, and it severely disappoints me. I need some time to consider where we go from here and how we can salvage our marriage and our family. Jasmine, I'm going to the motel. Are you coming with me or not?" They both headed towards the door.