I thanked her before Hosea and I turned away. But right before we stepped into his office, Mrs. Whittingham called out, “Pastor Bush … do you need me,” she gave me a quick glance, “to join you?”
Hosea looked at me … and blinked. Mrs. Whittingham, looked at me … and stared. My glance skipped between the two, knowing what this was about. This was something that Pastor Ford did in her church as well. Hosea probably never spoke to women (and there may have been a few men who feel in this category, too) alone.
But after a long, studious moment, he said, “No, I think we’ll be all right.”
His words made her face soften and she smiled her approval, then after we stepped into Hosea’s massive office, she closed the door behind us.
Walking into this space, lifted my mood in an instant. How could I be sad when I was surrounded by God and everything that was right with Him? Hosea (and maybe even Jasmine) had decorated the office in the masculine, yet warm tones of burgundy and beige and then, they’d stuffed the space with bookshelves that held Bibles of every translation and concordances, some short, others exhaustive. Then, there were the framed scriptures on each of the walls, some of my favorites: Jeremiah 29:11, Isaiah 43:2, James 1:3. But it was the photos that were everywhere — on the bookshelves, on his desk, on the tables — that made my smile wide — pictures of Jacqueline and Zaya that chronicled their lives. Some photos were of each child, most were of the two together, and there were even ones, that I suspected, were the most recent, that were selfies.
I marveled at the number of photographs, but even more, I was in awe of the fact that there were as many (if not more) pictures of Jacqueline as Zaya. Hosea made no difference between his children.
The measure of this man.
“Have a seat,” Hosea said as he motioned toward the leather sofa. I sank into the softness as he rounded his desk. I figured that he was going to sit down, check a couple of emails and then, get back to me and my issues.
I welcomed the silent seconds that I would have, maybe enough time to get my emotional-self together. That was why I closed my eyes.
But then, I heard, “Hey, Darlin’.”
My eyes snapped open. Hosea had his phone pressed to his ear. After a pause, he continued, “That’s why I’m calling. I’m not going to be able to make it.” Another pause. “Something came up with Kyla that I have to handle, but if you’re on your way, go ahead. Make a whole day of it.” More passing seconds. “No,” he glanced at me, but then blinked away our eye contact and returned this gaze to his desk. “I got this. We’re cool. No need for you to change your plans.” Another pause. “You know I’ll make it up to you.” Then finally, “Thanks for understanding. I love you. Call me when you get home.” When he lowered his phone, he kept his glance on his cell.
I said, “You know what? I didn’t know you had something to do with Jasmine until Mrs. Whittingham mentioned it. We can talk later. Really. I can go to the hospital now and check in with you this evening … or whenever.”
When I stood up, Hosea looked up and gave me a glare that said, ‘Sit-your-ass-down,’ though I had a feeling he’d never spoken those words aloud. But his look sure said it and I did what I was told.
The moment I sat, he stood, walked over, and settled in the chair across from me. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs before he said, “Jasmine’s fine. She wants me to help you with anything that you need.”
I nodded, not believing him. She’d probably just cursed him out — or maybe I was the one she cursed.
Continuing, he said, “And what you need to do now is talk to me.” He paused. “Tell me what happened back there at the police station.”
I tilted my head and squinted, trying to figure out what he was talking about.
He explained, “You said that Jasmine knows the woman in the photo, yet you didn’t know her name.”
I parted my lips to begin my story, but Hosea held up his hands. “And don’t give me that line about you and Jasmine got interrupted. If you saw a woman coming out of Jefferson’s room and you didn’t know who she was and Jasmine did, I know you wouldn’t let that slide. Jasmine would have lots of explaining to do. So talk to me.”
And that’s what I did. I started at the beginning and recalled how I’d been talking to Dr. Reid, when the woman walked out. I told Hosea that while she seemed to be trying to sneak around, she stood out with that big hat and fitted dress, just like the one in the picture. I told him how Jasmine had rushed after her, how they had talked for long minutes and how at first, Jasmine denied any knowledge of the woman. Then, I told him how Jasmine had come back and told me about Dr. Reid and that woman’s relationship.
“So, that’s all I know.” I finally took a breath. “I really don’t know her name because before I could prove too much further, Nicole came.”
“Ah, the interruption.”
“Yeah, it was real.”
His nod was slow, steady and went on for a couple of seconds before he asked, “Do you believe Jasmine?”
It took me a moment to respond only because he was a good guy, so I didn’t want to tell him that his wife was a lying liar and could never be believed or trusted. But he asked, so I said, “No.” And then, with my eyes right on his, I said, “Your wife hasn’t always been the most honest person in my life.”
“Are you talking about when she had an affair with your husband?” Shock must have been all over my face, because he added, “She told me about that.”
“I’m surprised.”
“We have no secrets between us.” He paused. “Let me take that back. I don’t keep any secrets from my wife and she tries not to lie and keep secrets from me.”
I liked him too much to laugh right in his face, so I pressed my chuckles down. “And you don’t have a problem with that?”
He shook his head as if my question was one of the most ridiculous ones that he’d ever heard. “Not only do I love my wife because she was the woman that God made especially for me, but I accept people for who they are — the good and the bad within them.” Then, he went on to preach what felt like a three sentence serious sermon. “God created Jasmine. She’s His work. He’s still working on her, and using me to do that, but I can only love God’s creation.”
I wondered how many microphones they had in this church. Because if Hosea spoke like that on Sundays, he’d have to drop the mic a couple of dozen times. Surely he’d broken several by now.
“Wow!”
He grinned. “You say that as if what I just told you was special.”
“Uh … it is.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“You say that like Jasmine could do almost anything and you’d be okay.”
He paused as if he had to think about my words. “I wouldn’t say anything, but since I’ve looked into her eyes and I’ve seen her heart, it would take something massive for me to leave. But you know what, I’m not special. If we truly understood God’s plan for the union between a man and a woman, we’d fight harder. People give up on the husband or wife God has chosen for them too easily. Anyone can walk away, the courage comes in staying and fighting. And if God is in the mix, staying is worth it. Like I said, we just have to understand marriage.”
That made me look away. That made me sigh. “Understanding marriage.”
He let me sit in the silence of the words I’d spoken for a moment before he once again said, “Talk to me.”
Where would I begin? “There seems to be so much going on and all I’m trying to do is help Jefferson fight for his life.”
“That’s a great thing. That’s what a wife, a praying wife should do.”
“But now I find out that he may have been cheating on me.”
“Well, you don’t know that, but even if he were, would you stop fighting for him to live?”
“No, of course not,” I exclaimed as if I were insulted by the question. But then, I slowed my roll. “At least, I don’t think so.” Hosea’s eyes were steady on me. “I mean, I think
I wouldn’t want him to die … if he … were having an affair.” Then, I ended right where I’d started. “No, of course not. I want Jefferson to be well, even if it turns out that he’s a cheating dog.”
My words were meant to make him grin and he did. He leaned back.“Now that we have that out of the way, I think what you have to do next is forget about that woman. Let the police handle her and you handle your husband.”
I shook my head at that impossible task. “How can I forget her?
And suppose she has something to do with my husband?”
“She doesn’t have anything to do with him being well. She doesn’t have anything to do with him being awakened from his coma or the recovery that will follow. She doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Jefferson needs you.”
It must have been the way I bit my lip and shook my head that made him say, “Anything that you conjure up in your mind about her is just that — conjecture. People spend all of this time coming up with scenarios that aren’t facts. Scenarios aren’t the truth, facts are. Let’s wait for the facts and in the meantime, let’s help Jefferson get well.”
This man had been given a gift and he knew how to use his. He’d just softened my hardening heart and he’d done it with that soothing voice that cloaked me with comfort. Made me believe that I didn’t have anything to worry about when it came to Jefferson and this woman.
But still.
“And there’s something else I want you to consider.” I tilted my head.
He said, “My wife is a different person from the woman you knew. She’s told me not only about you and Jefferson, but so many other things and … I’m sure there’s lots that she’s yet to tell. But Kyla, I’ve watched her mature and grow into someone I am proud to call my wife. And I really want you to consider this about Jasmine or anyone else that you’ve cut out of your life: No one is as bad as the worst thing that they’ve ever done.”
I did what he asked, I considered his words and that led me to say, “If that’s true, if Jasmine is a better person than she was twenty years ago, then, you’ve been really good for her.”
He shrugged. “When people are growing — and we should all be growing till the day we die — we are not who we were last year, let alone twenty years ago. I believe that we’re all just trying to get this life right.”
I nodded.
“And my wife? We’ve been good for each other,” Hosea said.
“So, think about this, maybe somewhere, somehow in your heart, you can forgive her. And that’s not me asking, but what Christ demands.”
“Actually, I have forgiven Jasmine.” He stared and me and only smiled.
“What? Really I have. If I hadn’t there would’ve been no way that I could’ve spent these last couple of days with her.”
“Well, if you have ….”
My eyes narrowed. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”
He shrugged. “I’m not the one you have to convince.” He slapped his hands on his legs. “But anyway … what we’re going to do now is I’m going to have Mrs. Whittingham order us something for lunch, anything you want. While I do that, you should call Nicole and let her know that the police are not holding you against your will.”
“Oh, my God,” I said, digging into my purse for my cell. “I’ve got to make sure she’s all right. She’s probably going nuts.”
“She’s fine,” Hosea said as if he were so sure. “She’s a strong woman of God.”
“And I’m not.”
“You’re a strong woman of God who needed a little refueling. We all do sometimes.” Then, he continued, “And after we eat, I’ll give you a tour of the church before we head back up to the hospital and talk to the doctors about the next steps.”
“That all sounds good. Thank you for everything.”
“Oh, and one last thing — right after you forgive my wife, you’re going to forget about that other woman.”
“What other woman?”
He laughed. “That’s what I’m talking ‘bout.” Leaning over, he entwined my fingers with his and squeezed my hand, before pushed himself from the chair. “Let me get these menus from Mrs. Whittingham.”
When he left me alone, I sat in the quiet for a moment, not believing how I felt — so much better than I’d felt an hour before when we walked out of that precinct. Yes, he’d challenged me about not forming conclusions without having facts, really forgiving Jasmine, and forgetting about the mystery woman.
I would be okay.
Jefferson and I would be okay.
I planted those words in my mind, then pressed repeat.
But no matter how many times they played, I couldn’t get my heart to believe my thoughts.
Because of that woman. And Jasmine.
I couldn’t just toss that woman to the side the way Hosea told me to do. And about forgiving Jasmine, maybe I would be able to do it if I didn’t think she was lying now.
I thought about going to her one more time, telling her about what we’d found out from the police and asking her again about the woman. But after two seconds, I knew that would be a wasted effort — no matter who Hosea thought Jasmine was, I would never get the answers from her. So, I would have to get them from the only person who would tell me the truth.
Pressing Nicole’s number, I had only two questions for my daughter: Was she okay, and when did the doctors say they were going to wake up her father?
Because no matter what it was, Jefferson would tell me the truth.
chapter 19
Jasmine
I stared at my phone as if the blame belonged to my cell. I’d been stood up.
For almost five years, Hosea and I had been doing these spa dates, the second Saturday of every month. We had a standing appointment: a couple’s massage, then time together in either the private Jacuzzi or steam room, depending on our mood. It had been Hosea’s idea to have these Saturdays together.
“Darlin’, the kids are getting older and are more demanding of our time, Pops is stepping back from his responsibility and dumping it all on me ….”
I cracked up at his choice of words. His father, Samuel Bush had been the lead pastor for City of Lights for more than fifty years. Now that his son had stepped into his calling, my fatherin-law had stepped into semi-retirement with the greatest of ease. “And, I don’t want us to ever lose each other. We may only get one day a month, but that day needs to be all about us, just you and me, together. Always.” “That is so sweet, baby.”
“I mean it. We need to make time for each other. This has to be a priority because life can mess up relationships, and that’s never going to happen to us. I love you way too much.”
I had to wipe away a couple of tears.
“Plus, you need me, Darlin’, you need me so much.”
That was when my tears mixed with laughter. I cried because I still couldn’t believe how much God had blessed me with this man after all the dirt I’d done in my life with other men who didn’t belong to me. And, I laughed because … well, Hosea always made me laugh. And his words were true. I did need him … and I needed our second Saturdays. That was why I did everything to never miss a date, even scheduling my out-of-town trips around these days that were meant for us alone.
And Hosea did the same — he had never canceled once. Never!
Before today.
I sighed now, as I finally tucked my phone back into my purse. There was no need to keep staring at it, as if that would change the fact that Hosea had canceled … because of Kyla. What was going on with her that was so important? That took precedence over me? As soon as I asked myself those questions, I snatched them back. Really? I was asking that when her husband had been shot in the head? When, while his chances of surviving were improving, he was still in the most critical of conditions?
Those had to have been the dumbest questions I’d ever asked because the doctors still had no idea how much damage had been done to Jefferson’s brain. No one knew what Jefferson would look like, what he would b
e like when he was finally awakened.
So, how could I ask what was going on?
Except … it felt like I needed to ask that question. It felt like there was so much more going on than what I knew. It felt like Hosea knew something that he didn’t want to share — like there was some secret between just him and Kyla.
“Stop it, Jasmine,” I whispered.
But my self-scolding did no good. Inside, I still went back and forth:
Of course Hosea would be there for Kyla, and I was all kinds of out of order for even feeling some kind of way about it.
But shame the devil ‘cause the truth was, I did feel some kind of way. Especially after Hosea told me that he had to cancel and I told him that I would join them so that I could be there for Kyla, too. We always ministered together.
But my husband didn’t want or seem to need my assistance today: I got this. We’re cool. No need for you to change your plans.
Translation: Kyla doesn’t really want you here, and because she doesn’t want you, neither do I.
“Okay, Jasmine, you’re really taking this too far.” “Excuse me?”
When I looked up, I had to blink a couple of times. Where was I?
“Did you say something?” the Uber driver spoke to me through the rear view mirror.
“No.” Glancing out the window, I realized that the driver was still zooming toward Oasis, the spa where we had our appointment. He didn’t know that I’d been stood up and had no desire to indulge in a couple’s massage alone.
“Uh … I’m not going out to Long Island, anymore. My husband … just called ….”
He frowned at me with a glare that said I-don’t-know-whereyou’re-going-but-you’re-gonna-pay-for-this-trip.
“Listen, whatever you have to do; can we stop this trip and start a new one?” I glanced at my watch. I still had several hours before Mae Frances came in, but I could find somewhere to eat, maybe read, and definitely think before I picked her up.“Can you take me to LaGuardia?”
“Okay.” He spoke with a grin. I guessed he’d done the calculations and this was gonna work out just fine for him. Whatever worked for him, worked for me, and after he told me what to do through the app, he made a U-turn, and then, we were on our way to the airport.
Temptation: The Aftermath Page 15