Temptation: The Aftermath

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  I jumped in. “It’s not. I told your mother that this morning. We have adjoining guest rooms, so that you’ll each have your own, but share the bathroom and ….”

  “No.”

  “The kids would love to have you there,” I continued, as if I couldn’t stop. As if I could change everything by keeping my lips moving. “And Hosea and I would love to have you there, too.”

  “No.”

  A single word. So emphatic.

  “But, Mom,” Nicole began again, “I’m thinking that it might be good for us to have the support.”

  “No.”

  A single word. So final.

  I was sure that Nicole and I looked like twins with shock in our eyes and our lips pressed together. The only difference between us was I understood and Nicole didn’t. I thought I’d made inroads, but Kyla had just shut me up and shut me down. Yes, she might have believed my lie about that woman, but she didn’t trust me. She may have forgiven me for sleeping with her husband, but she hadn’t forgotten about it.

  Talk about having a cracked heart.

  “Well,” my voice sounded so small, “I still think you need to eat.

  We can order and have them pack it to go.”

  “That’ll be fine.” Kyla picked up her menu and held it high, hiding her face.

  Nicole looked at her mother, then turned to me.“That would be great, Auntie Jasmine. Thank you for bringing us here.”

  She lifted her menu, too, but spoke as if the silence was just too awkward to bear. “I’m not hungry, but everything does look good.” I became her ally in this battle to normalize what was far from normal. “Well, like I said, you can’t go wrong. I’m going to have the tilapia.”

  The cheer in our voices sounded like we were talking about Christmas dinner. So inappropriate, but better than addressing what felt like oxygen seeping from the room. Once we put in our orders, Kyla pushed her chair back.

  “Excuse me for a minute. I’m going outside,” she said. And then, turning more to Nicole than me, she added, “I’m going to call your grandmother and Alexis. And I need to check in with Pastor Ford, too.”

  “Okay, tell them all I’ll speak to them later.”

  When Kyla left us alone, I expected Nicole to ask me what was going on and I prayed for a good lie within me because there was no way I could explain the truth to this woman who was still a little girl in my mind.

  But instead, Nicole looked at me with the saddest of eyes.“Mom never acts like this, you know that, right? It’s just everything that’s going on with Dad.”

  “I know that, sweetheart. It’s all right. Your mom just … doesn’t want to impose.”

  “I get that — I guess. But to me, at times like these, you need your friends. And since Aunt Alex can’t be here, I wish we were staying with you.”

  My glance turned to the windows in the front of the restaurant and I wondered what Kyla would tell her child if she’d heard Nicole compare me and Alexis. I watched Kyla with her cell pressed to her ear, pacing to the corner, then turning around and marching the other way. Her hands moved as she spoke, something she always did when she was emotional. Was she talking to Alexis about me?

  I shook that thought away. This isn’t about you, Jasmine. But shaking away that thought, didn’t shake away the sorrow.

  “Do you like living in New York?” Nicole asked me.

  Turning back, I nodded. “I do. I like the city, but I love my life with my husband and children.” I went on to tell her about Hosea and his church.

  She said, “Wait. You’re that Jasmine? Lady Jasmine? You’re married to that Hosea Bush? Oh, my goodness.”

  Her glee made me smile, at least on the outside. I went on to tell her about Jacqueline and Zaya and she told me about her life in Beijing.

  “I work for the State department, the U.S. embassy.” I asked, “How in the world did you get there?”

  She laughed. “I know, right? I’m just an LA girl. But you know what? This was my dream, actually. Mom and Dad took me to China when I was thirteen, and I fell in love with the country, but more than that, I loved the language. Then, Dad told me that I could study that in college because anyone who spoke any of the Asian Pacific languages would always be employed. Globalization, you know. So, I was hooked.”

  “Wow. At thirteen you knew that?”

  “Yup. You know my parents. To live in their house, I had to be focused. Remember when Dad taught me how to read the stock reports?”

  “I do remember that. You were like six and could do it. I’m ….” I paused because I never said my age aloud. That was between me and God and I’d lied about it so much, I wasn’t sure that God knew anymore. So, I amended my words. “Even at my age, I still can’t read them.”

  She laughed and this time, my smile almost reached the inside. Almost. I was happy, though, because at least, I was able to help her forget why she’d flown to New York … even if it was for a few minutes.

  “Yeah, I had the best parents.” Then, quickly, she corrected herself. “I mean, I have, I have, I have the best parents.”

  I reached over and squeezed her hand, just as the waiter returned with the wrapped-up food. Kyla was right behind him. As soon as he handed me the package, I could smell the pecan-crusted tilapia, but not even the aroma could douse the dejection that I felt with the way Kyla looked at me.

  “Okay,” I said, right as I handed the waiter my credit card. “No, I got this,” Kyla reached for her purse.

  “Mom!” This time, it was Nicole who spoke in a tone that made her mother pause. Made her mother look up. Made her mother turn to me and just say, “Thank you.”

  After that, though, I couldn’t get out and away fast enough. I accompanied them back to the hospital, though once we arrived, I sent Kyla, Nicole and all of the food (including my order) inside.

  “I’m going home,” I said. “To check on the kids,” I lied.

  “Oh, okay. It was so good to see you again, Auntie Jasmine.” She hugged me. “We’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I nodded and then turned to Kyla. I wasn’t sure if I should reach for an embrace, but once she stayed steady, I stayed back. “I’ll send Hosea back with your suitcase.”

  “Thank you.” She nodded. And then, she added another, “Thank you for everything,” because she’d been raised right. Then, with another nod, she took her daughter’s hand and dragged her away from me.

  I stood on the corner of 135th and Malcolm X feeling like a fool to ever think that after I’d slept with her husband, she’d accept me back in her life as her friend.

  With a sigh, I opened my Uber app. It was time for me to go home to be around people who not only loved me, but who liked me, too.

  chapter 14

  Kyla

  “Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: who forgives all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases ….”

  I stood next Nicole as she sat at Jefferson’s bedside, whispering healing scripture after healing scripture over her father. Even when I leaned over and kissed her forehead, she didn’t stop. She kept reading Psalm 103, and then moved to another verse.

  Watching her, there was a scripture that so filled my heart: Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

  This was Proverbs 22:6 in action and that was why I knew I could leave the room and give Nicole this time with her dad.

  Stepping into the hospital’s hallway, I waited for the door to close behind me, then I leaned against the wall, not having the energy to take another step.

  It was hard for me to believe that not even forty-eight hours had passed since I’d received that call. It felt more like forty-eight days with all that had happened: me getting to New York, Nicole arriving … and Jasmine.

  Jasmine Cox Larson was a layer in my life that I really didn’t need right now. A layer that brought questions that I couldn’t answer. Like, why was she eve
n here?

  Thoughts of her made my head throb. Had she told me the truth about that woman? Had Jasmine ever told me the truth about anything?

  I closed my eyes, just to escape thoughts of Jasmine for a moment, but that was not what happened. I closed my eyes for rest, but instead, I had a flash. Back twenty years, back to 1997:

  I ran up the stairs, so eager to see my husband. About midway up, I heard the faint sound of water; Jefferson was in the shower. Not knowing that I was coming home early, he was probably on his way to church.

  Pressing my hand against my mouth, I muffled my giggles. I’d already told Alexis that I’d meet her at the second service because for the next three hours, I planned on having some serious, hot, married, I-missed-you-so-much sex with the man who made the word foine be just a regular ole adjective.

  At the top of the stairs, I was shocked to see the double doors to our bedroom closed. Even when Nicole was home, we rarely closed our door. So why had he closed the door when he’d been home alone?

  There were already questions in my mind when I pushed the door open — and I thought that was why I was immediately confused. Because the first thing that hit me was the smell, slightly musky, the aroma that lingers after exercise … or sex.

  And then, my sense of sight took over … and I saw Jasmine … naked … in my bed … naked.

  “Oh, Kyla,” she said in a tone that sounded — regular. As if my walking into my bedroom and finding her naked in my bed was something that was — regular.

  All these years later, I still felt the same way I did on that Sunday morning. All these years later, tears filled with pain still pushed forward, but I squeezed my eyelids, hoping to press back every one because I did not want to cry. Hadn’t I cried enough that day and for the rest of 1997? Hadn’t I cried enough in 1998, even as Jefferson and I worked so hard to build and bond again? Hadn’t I cried enough in 1999, and 2004, and 2009 on those few occasions when my heart didn’t allow me to forget that my best friend (and my husband) had stolen something so sacred from me?

  Yes, I’d cried enough, but I guess I wasn’t finished.

  I opened my eyes and at first, the vision in front of me was blurry. But I blinked through my tears and looked straight into the eyes of Hosea.

  He stood there for a moment, watching me cry. Then, he rolled the suitcase that he held in his hand closer to me, stood it up, and pulled me into his arms.

  It was like his embrace was filled with permission. So, I sobbed. And sobbed. Then sobbed some more. I cried until there was nothing left within me.

  Even after that, Hosea gave me a few moments before he stepped back.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  Again, he didn’t use any words. Just took my hand, leaving my suitcase by the door, and he led me away. I didn’t even ask him where we were going when he guided me past the nurses station, then around the corner and down a long hall. I was so exhausted that it felt like we’d been walking a mile when Hosea finally pushed through double doors and we entered a small sanctuary.

  “Oh, wow,” I whispered. “I didn’t know they had the chapel up here. In ICU.”

  “This isn’t the main chapel,” he said, his voice as low as mine. “But a couple of years ago, they put this in for visitors of patients in critical care. My dad and I have used this room often.”

  He led me to the second pew, which was just a long wooden bench. I slipped in, then, he sat beside me.

  We were alone in the small space that wasn’t filled with much: just wooden benches, a make-shift altar, one stained-glass window … and the overwhelming presence of God. His peace permeated every inch of this space.

  I bowed my head, not because I was going to pray; I figured Hosea would have that part covered. I did it because I was just so tired.

  Lots of quiet seconds passed before Hosea said, “Kyla … did anything … Jefferson ….”

  Lifting my head, I sniffed. “No, I wasn’t crying because of Jefferson.” I wiped away a straggling tear.

  He faced me and frowned and I wondered if he knew about his wife and what she’d done. I wondered what he would think if he knew I cried because of what my husband and I had suffered through because of his wife.

  In a way, I wanted to tell him. Because if he didn’t know, this would be a way for me to get back, to hurt Jasmine. But that was just my pain speaking, because aloud, I said, “It’s nothing, it’s everything. My daughter is here.”

  He gave me that smile that went all the way from his lips to my heart. “Well, that should make you happy.”

  I tried to match his smile. “It does. I needed her here.” “I get that,” he said. “You need that support.”

  I nodded, then turned away from him. And stared at the golden cross that hung high on the wall above the altar.

  He said, “We’d love to support you, too.”

  I let a few moments pass. “Jasmine told you that I’d prefer to stay in a hotel.”

  “She did.”

  I waited for him to say more, to protest in some kind of way, but when he didn’t, I said, “It’s just that ….” I left it there. Because if I said anymore, he’d leave this chapel knowing that his wife was a skank.

  He shifted a bit so that more of him was facing me. “You don’t have to explain. This is all about what’s best for you, Jefferson, and your daughter. The best way that I can help you,” he pressed his hand against his chest, “is to pray for you and to help you do whatever you want to do.”

  This man. His voice. His words. “Thank you.”

  “So, if you want to stay in a hotel, that’s where you’ll be. You and your daughter will stay at the Plaza.”

  The Plaza? Anyone who knew anything about New York City, knew about the Plaza, one of the most famous hotels in the world. And if you didn’t know that history, then certainly you knew about all the movie cameos, especially one of my favorites, The Way We Were.

  But what I knew most about the Plaza was the reason why people with last names like Vanderbilt and Rockefeller stayed there. This five-star hotel only had rooms that approached one thousand dollars a night.

  I shook my head. “Thanks, Hosea, but Nicole and I will need something a little more aligned with my budget.”

  “Did I ask you about all that?” His question came with another grin. “It’s taken care of. For however long you need.” He held up his hand. “And before you protest, hear me out. First of all, with the convention in town, hotel rooms are not only scarce, but the ones that are available are exorbitant. You know, that supply and demand thing.”

  The ends of my lips curled up just a little. “Look at you. I thought you were a pastor, not an economist.”

  “I ain’t always been saved.”

  Then, right there in the chapel, we laughed before he continued, “And, I have an account at the Plaza because that’s the hotel we use when the church has guests in town. We’ve given the Plaza a lot of business over the years, so in times like these, they want to help out. That’s called, you take care of me and I’ll take care of you. Another economic principle.” He paused, and then looked up from the corner of his eye as if he were trying to figure something out. “Or is that a political principle?”

  More laughter before he wrapped up his case. “Plus, I’m a pastor. People like helping a pastor out, especially one who’s on television. So there you have it. You have to stay at the Plaza.”

  All I could do was shake my head, though I didn’t do that because I was saying no. I did it because how could I not say yes?

  “So, you’ll stay there because it’s close to me and Jasmine, but … far enough away … from Jasmine for you to feel comfortable.”

  Those words took my smile away and I had to press my lips together to hold what I wanted to say inside. I wondered again and this time, I wanted to ask — had Jasmine told her husband that she had slept with mine?

  No, she hadn’t. Liars were cowards, that was why they lied. Of course, Hosea knew that she’d slept with Alexis’s husband
— Alex had told me all about that encounter and the dinner that she’d had with Hosea about ten years ago. But once Hosea had found out that Jasmine was a liar and a cheater, he still stayed with her. I shook my head again. How could such a good man end up with such a bad woman?

  “What?” Hosea said, I guess responding to my silence.“What’re you thinking? Talk to me.”

  I glanced up at the cross again and even though I was in this sacred place, I didn’t tell the truth. I said, “I’m thinking that you could have been an attorney, before you were saved, of course.”

  When we laughed again, I realized that just minutes before, my heart had been aching, the tears had been pouring. Yet, here I was now, inside this chapel, just sitting, just chatting, just having a few good moments.

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost ten, you know.”

  “Wow.” I paused. Twisting my wrist, I checked my own watch. Not that I didn’t believe Hosea. But even though my watch showed that it was a little before seven LA time, my body felt like it was well after ten. “I didn’t know it was that late.”

  “The only thing that I’m going to ask you to do, besides stay at the Plaza, is to leave now so that you can get some rest. Because without rest, you have no strength — physical nor spiritual. And that’s what you must have for your husband. You and Nicole, too.”

  I said, “You’re right,” because there was no fight left in me. I guessed I was going to the Plaza.

  “So let’s go back to Jefferson’s room, we’ll pray, and then, I’ll get you and Nicole over to the hotel.” He paused. “Oh, and we have to figure a way for me to go over to Jefferson’s hotel and pack up his things.”

  I pressed my hand against my mouth. “Oh, my goodness, I hadn’t even thought of that.” Then, after a moment of contemplation, I added, “Maybe I can just stay in his room.”

  “No,” he said as if he’d always made decisions for me.“You don’t need to be around all that. I’ll take care of it.” He stood, took my hand and lifted me from the pew.