I sniffed, then said. “So … are you saying that you’re finally in a relationship?”
“Mom ….” She turned that single syllable into six.
“I’m just asking because if you can get in my business ….”
“Ugh … you know that it’s all about work for me right now. I really want an ambassadorship in a few years.”
“And you’ll get it. But you can still get married and have grandbabies for me.”
“Really, Mom?” She rolled her eyes. “How did we end up talking about me and grandbabies?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m trying to help you be great.”
We laughed together, and then, we stood together. And we held each other for seconds and seconds and seconds.
Until Nicole said, “Okay, Mom. Let’s go upstairs and see the man who makes us both great.”
As I followed her, I raised my eyes to the ceiling and imagined that I could see right through it to the throne of God. And then, I thanked Him for the young genius that He had gifted to me. Because my child had blossomed into one brilliant woman.
chapter 22
Jasmine
I’d been waiting. And thinking. And pacing.
My mind was on overload. Lola Lewis. I had a name, I had an address. That was all I needed to take the first step. But at the same time, I had Mae Frances and her warning.
You don’t need to go searching for anything you’re not prepared to find.
What did Mae Frances mean?
It had to be serious because she really wanted me to wait, but I couldn’t. I was itching to run right over to that address. There was one thing stopping me, though — my thoughts. I was trying to come up with a plan of what I’d say to Lola, but my thoughts kept drifting to my husband. And Kyla. And my husband and Kyla.
I plopped down onto the chaise in my bedroom, ready to chastise myself for trippin’ about Hosea spending time with Kyla. What was this about?
Uh … maybe it’s about you sleeping with her husband? Yeah, well, she would never do that to me.
Uh … you don’t know that girl anymore.
I know Kyla Carrington Blake and she’s a good-girl from way back.
She told you she was different now.
I jumped up from the chaise. “Would you just shut up!”
“Mama.” I swung toward the voice. “Who are you talking to?”
My son stood in the door jamb, with his legs slightly parted and his hands stuffed deep inside his pockets. Hosea’s stance.
“Oh, nobody, baby. I was … just making a list of things I had to do.” I waved for him to come in. “Did you want something?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I was just looking for Dad. He’s not home yet.”
I know, right? “He’ll be home soon.”
“Where is he?”
That’s what I want to know. “I don’t know, but he’ll be here, probably around seven or so.”
“It’s after seven now, Mama.” What! “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I was gonna text him, but I didn’t want to do it if he was in a private session with someone.”
He’d better not be in anything private with Kyla. “Why don’t you do that, Zaya? Text your, Dad. Go on. Text him over and over until he responds.”
He nodded and then shrugged, a move that I didn’t quite understand. “Okay,” he finally said.
My son strolled toward the door with so much cool. Hosea’s swagger.
At the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gave me a little nod, then disappeared into the hallway.
As soon as he was out of my sight, I rushed to the bed and grabbed my purse in search of my phone. I checked my messages thinking that maybe there was one missing, one that may have gotten by me.
But the last one from him had come in just a bit after three: I’m out with Kyla. Getting her on track mentally. Will get back with you. Love you.
I’d read this earlier, but now, I read it again. Then, studied it some more. And analyzed it so that I could read all the words that weren’t on the screen. What did this text really mean?
I’m out with Kyla: Okay, that was a good thing because that meant if they were out, they couldn’t be in somewhere.
Getting her on track mentally: Okay, another good thing — no mention of anything physical.
Will get back with you: What did that mean? That he was coming home … eventually?
Love you: Did he really?
I tossed my phone onto my bed. “You’re being ridiculous.” This time, I whispered my chastisement. I was acting like I thought Hosea was cheating on me. As if he ever would.
Well ….except for that time when he almost did.
Sighing, I sank back onto the chaise and remembered those days back in 2008 when I was sure that I’d lost my husband. It had been my fault. In those early years of our marriage, I’d hidden so much from Hosea, though if I were telling the truth, hidden was the wrong word — I’d lied. I’d lied to my husband about everything — from being married before to lying about in which decade I was born. The discovery had been too much for Hosea and he’d left me for … Oh, God, how long had he stayed away? I closed my eyes and remembered the worst part of that time:
I’d tricked Hosea’s assistant, Brittany into telling me where Natasia was staying — at the Rendezvous. I couldn’t believe that I was really in this place, competing with Hosea’s ex-fiancée, a woman he told me he hadn’t married because she wasn’t the one God had chosen for him. How many times had Hosea told me that I was the one?
But now everything, my marriage, my life, my all was on the line because I had lied.
I swerved my car into the circular driveway of the hotel, jumped out before I even put the car in park, and tossed my keys to the valet, not giving him a chance to ask if I were a guest or just visiting. If Brittany had told me that Natasia’s suite was on the fourth instead of the fourteenth floor, I would’ve climbed the stairs. But even though I felt like I had enough rage inside of me to scale Mount Everest, I wanted to reserve it all for Natasia. Because if she had my husband in her suite, I was going to do to her what I’d dreamed about doing since she’d come into our lives two months ago. She’d made it clear — she wanted Hosea back and she was willing to do whatever. Well, tonight she was gonna learn — I was going to fight for my husband in every way.
Once inside the elevator, I punched the 14 button like it was Natasia’s face, then watched the numbers ascend until the chamber stopped. I stomped out of that elevator, found her suite, then banged on the door like I was the CIA, FBI, IRS, DOJ and all the other alphabet agencies that I couldn’t quite remember through the red fog in my brain. I banged and banged until Natasia finally swung the door open and then, I busted inside like a keg of dynamite, all of my rage on the verge.
I barreled over the threshold and then stopped, taking in the sight in front of me. First, I glared at a stone-still Natasia, and then I turned my fury to Hosea, who was just as unmoving as Natasia in his shock. He sat with his pants undone.
My stillness lasted only about three seconds because when I turned back to that trick, my fists were flying. I didn’t fight like a girl; I was more like a pit bull, plunging forward and landing my first strike — the center of Natasia’s eye.
Natasia shrieked. Fell back. But I had just started. I was that pit bull with a single command in my mind — kill!
Hosea jumped from the couch and corralled me from behind before I could land the knock-out punch.
“Jasmine!” That was what Hosea called me.
And I called her, “You stank ho!” I fought as hard as I could to get loose from Hosea’s arms, but his grasp was like a leash.
“Jasmine! Stop it!” He squeezed me, held me, and kept whispering, “Please, please, please,” over and over until I could do nothing but settle down.
But I kept my glare on Natasia, because if I had half-a-second that would be enough to give me half-a-chance to put that skank into the ground.
When Natasia
stayed in place, I twisted in Hosea’s arms until I faced him. “How could you do this?” My question came through tears.
“I haven’t done anything, Jasmine.”
I fought harder to get away, but the more I fought, the tighter his grasp.
“Listen to me,” he demanded. “I haven’t done anything, I promise.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
He looked at Natasia. “I needed a place … that’s all. Nothing happened … I just got caught up ….”
Sighing, I opened my eyes and walked over to the window. Usually, standing at this window as the day bowed to night, calmed me. But not now. All I could think about was my husband and those days with Natasia and these days with Kyla. He’d almost left me for another woman once … could it happen again?
Kyla’s married. So what?
Hosea’s married, too. And he loves you. “I come bearing gifts.”
For a moment, I wondered if that was the voice in my head. I swung around and faced the door. Though I’d heard his voice, I didn’t see Hosea, at least, not all of him. Only his arm that was attached to his hand, that held one of my favorite things — a blue Tiffany’s bag.
I squealed, though I stayed in place and I guess that sound was the signal to my husband that it was safe to enter.
He stepped into our bedroom, still holding the bag high, and wearing the biggest of grins. “The strangest thing happened.” He took a couple of steps toward me.“I was walking past Tiffany’s, and this silver and diamond necklace that happened to look like the one you showed me after our last spa date,” more steps, “hopped out the door and into my pocket.”
I folded my arms. “Oh, really?” I asked without a bit of the delight that was in my heart.
“Yeah, and the box and the bag followed, begging me to bring them home so they could be yours.”
Now, he stood in front of me and I hated that I was so superficial that I could be bought with a twenty-five hundred dollar necklace. But by the time the bag was under my nose, I sniffed those diamonds and I was done. Playfully, I snatched the bag, hugged him, then sat on the edge of our bed as I opened the box and once again, swooned at the sight of the necklace that was inspired by the majesty of waterfalls.
“Oh, baby,” I turned to him, and then, remembered my day and all of my anxiety. I pulled back my glee. “So, is this supposed to make up for missing our spa date?”
He took the necklace from me, then wrapped his hand in mine and helped me up. Standing behind me, he circled the jewelry around my neck. “This is to make up for missing our date and all the hours after.” He clasped the closure and turned me to face him. “I’m sorry, Darlin’.”
How was I supposed to stay mad with this? With this man giving me puppy-dog eyes and this gift. It was like magic, the way my anger faded.
But then, he said, “I just got caught up.”
There went the magic. And in its place were thoughts of Natasia … I mean, Kyla. I glared at him.“Caught up? With what?” I asked, remembering how he’d said the same exact thing about being with Natasia.
He frowned as if he didn’t expect that question. “With Kyla.
You didn’t get my texts?”
“Yeah, but the last one came hours ago.” I glared up at him. “So what were you doing all the rest of the time?”
There were deep lines carved into his forehead, but then, the lines softened and in their place was a smile, no a grin. A big ole grin, like my husband was on the verge of bowling over with laughter.
“Seriously, Hosea? You’re laughing at me?”
“Seriously, Jasmine. You’re jealous of me … being with your friend. A woman who you keep saying used to be your best friend.” “Well, if I’m jealous it’s because you’re right — she used to be my best friend and because of the reason that she’s not anymore,
I don’t trust her.”
“Wow! You don’t trust her?” Then, he had the audacity to let it loose — and he did laugh. Like laughed right in my face. “That’s rich, Jasmine. Because of what you did, you don’t trust her.”
“You know what I mean.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do. And that’s why I don’t get why you’re upset. Because I was only with Kyla because she’s spent the last four days in the hospital by her husband’s side. Her husband, who by the way, was shot in the head and hasn’t been conscious since his brain surgery. Her husband, who’s missing half his skull. You remember that, don’t you?”
I bit my lip because when he put it like that ….
After shaking his head for a few moments, he wrapped his arms around me, continuing his assault on my anger. “I’m really sorry, Darlin’, that I missed our date, but you don’t have a thing to be jealous about. Not today, not ever. I took the time with Kyla because she was in a bad way and I thought she needed some space away from the hospital and even from Jefferson … for just a little while after what she went through this morning.”
I looked up at him. “What happened?”
He sighed and led me back to the bed. When we both sat, he said, “This morning, I met her and Nicole at the hotel because I knew I’d be away all day with you, so I wanted to pray with them and see if the doctors had determined a definite day to begin waking Jefferson. But then, the detectives called and wanted to see her.”
“Why?”
“Well, first, they wanted to know if Jefferson was having an affair.”
“What?” I shouted, shocked that someone else shared my thoughts. “Why in the world would they ask her that when her husband is laying up in the hospital?”
“Because they’re detectives, not doctors. Not that they don’t care about Jefferson’s recovery, but their first priority is solving this case.”
“Well, his recovery might help them solve the case.”
“True, but I guess they can’t wait, which honestly, makes me feel good. They’re on their jobs and you know, many times shootings like this might not get a lot of attention.”
I shook my head, trying to imagine Kyla sitting through those questions.“Poor Kyla. I know she lost it when they asked her that.” “Pretty much.”
“What did she do? Did she stomp out of there?”
“I think that was her first instinct. That’s why I spent the day with her because those questions messed her up.”
“Oh, my God.” I pressed my hand against my lips. “So, they brought her down there just to harass her?”
“It’s not harassment. These are questions they have to ask, things they need to know. And they had another purpose; they wanted her to take a look at a picture.”
My question was in my frown and Hosea continued.
“Turns out they did have surveillance video from one of the city’s cameras on that block.”
I inhaled and hoped that Hosea didn’t notice. Did they have video of Jefferson and Lola? Did they show it to Kyla?
“They caught Jefferson and a woman on tape.”
Hosea’s expression hadn’t changed and I wasn’t sure how I should play this. Wasn’t sure if I should feign surprise or not. He gave me a little pause, but I stayed silent.
“They got an image of a woman, the only woman who was in the store during the time Jefferson was there.”
“Um, did … they show … you and Kyla the picture?”
He nodded again and with the same straight face, he told me, “And she said you knew the woman.”
In the passing seconds, I tried to make a quick calculation. What did I want to tell Hosea? How much of this did I want him to know?
“Jasmine.”
Hosea hardly used my name, always preferring his term of endearment. But when he called me by the name that my mother had given to me, that was code for: Don’t lie. So, I decided to tell him the truth.
“I don’t know her.”
He turned his head slightly. Body language read: he didn’t believe me.
I held up my hands.“No, I really don’t know her. Actually, you’ve seen her before.” He frowned.
“When we were at the hospital on Tuesday, she was in the waiting room with us. She was wearing this hat, a fascinator. That’s what made her stand out to me.”
Now, a tilt of his head accompanied his frown as if he were trying to remember.
I said, “She seemed out of place. And then, when we were talking to Doctor Knight, she came out to the hallway and was eavesdropping.”
“I didn’t notice any of this.”
“Well, I did. I even followed her when she tried to leave, but she got away. Then, she came back the next day.”
“Is that when Kyla saw her?”
I nodded. “While Kyla was talking to Doctor Reid, I cornered the woman, but ….” I hesitated. This was where I wondered if I should part from the truth. Should I tell Hosea what Lola said, or should I share the made-up story? If I told him the truth, Hosea would make me go to the police and I was sure that somehow, she would find a way to, at best, think that I was involved somehow … or at worst, blame me for everything.
And then, they would pull Kyla back in, and tell her that her husband was having an affair. While she was trying to deal with her husband’s fight for his life, she’d have to fight for her heart.
And she’d go through all of that for what? I doubted that what Lola had told me was completely true. But whatever, I needed to know more first. I needed something concrete before I ripped Kyla’s heart and world apart.
“Jasmine.”
Code for: Don’t lie.
I said, “She told me some story ….”I shook my head.“Something about she was involved with Doctor Reid and they got into a fight and she found him in Jefferson’s room and he told her to get herself together.” I waved my hands. “I didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s what she told me.”
Hosea gave me one of those long, penetrating, lie-detector stares. And I held his gaze, until he began nodding. “Kyla told me that story.”
“It’s not a story. That’s what Lola told me.” “Lola?” He paused. “Is that her name?”
Crap! I should have thought this through. Of course, the cops didn’t have a name. All they had was a video and unless she had looked up at the lens and stated her name, they wouldn’t know who she was. “That’s the name she gave me.” I did that waving thing again, trying to minimize what I’d just said. “But it’s probably not real.”
Temptation: The Aftermath Page 18