With a wide smile, the pastor shook her head and her shoulder-length bob swayed. “Don’t worry about me. You just don’t know how great it was to see the two of you walk into the sanctuary this morning. I almost danced at the altar. Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you a little and set up a counseling schedule.” She paused. “I am so pleased.”
“So are we,” Jefferson said.
“Now,” the pastor started as she leaned back in her chair. “You know, there are probably people who would say that with God in your life, you don’t need a counselor or a pastor to get all in your business . . .”
“We want to do this with you . . .” Jefferson interrupted.
“I know you do. I just want to make sure you understand my purpose.” Leaning forward on her desk, she continued, “I see my role as the person who’s going to help you ask and answer the tough questions. In the beginning of this healing process, the two of you will be tiptoeing around each other like you’re in a minefield. You’ll be afraid to say things because you don’t want to hurt the other’s feelings. Or there may be things that you’re just too afraid to bring up. But, in order for you to get through this grief, everything must be said, the tough questions must be asked. And, that’s where I can help you. Any questions?”
As they shook their heads, Jefferson squeezed Kyla’s hand.
“One thing, though, and I’m sure you’re both already very aware of this . . . it’s going to be painful. At times, very painful. Jefferson, you have to be prepared to answer anything that Kyla needs to know. And Kyla, you’re going to hear some tough things. But I promise, there will be life and love and understanding and trust . . . on the other side.” She paused, looking at both of them. “If I had to put my confidence in people pulling through an ordeal like this, you two would get my vote.”
Again, they nodded, but this time, Kyla pulled her hand away from Jefferson, resting it softly in her lap.
“Before we leave, there is something that I want to know. What are your expectations?”
Complete silence was her answer.
“Jefferson?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, my prayer is that Kyla and I will talk and get past this so that we can go on with the rest of our lives. I want to understand all that I can do to help her forgive me and trust me again.”
The pastor nodded. “Kyla?”
Bowing her head, it took a few moments for her to speak. “I just want my heart to stop aching.” Her words were soft and slow.
When Kyla looked up, she was sure she saw tears in the pastor’s eyes. “Go on.”
“I just want this,” she said pointing to her chest, “to start beating regularly.”
When Jefferson reached for her, Kyla moved to the other side of her chair and the pastor held up her hand, nodding, reassuring Jefferson.
“That’s fine.” The pastor’s voice had taken on a soothing cadence. “Like I said, today was to make contact and get on the same wavelength. I didn’t want this to be a long session, but now that you’ve brought it up, Kyla . . .” she hesitated before saying, “it’s important for you to understand that this pain is not just yours. It belongs to all of us, including me as your spiritual leader. So we all have to find a way to work through this.”
With tears threatening, Kyla nodded.
“So tell us about it. Tell Jefferson about your pain.”
With the slightest movement, Kyla shook her head. “I don’t know if I can,” she squeaked. “I don’t know if I can do it without breaking down . . .”
“That’s okay. There are going to be plenty of times when we’re all going to break down. It’s normal, Kyla. You’re fine.”
The silence filled the space again for a few moments. “No matter what I say, Jefferson will never know how I feel.”
“Do you think it’s important for him to know?”
She nodded.
Pastor Ford resisted her desire to get up and hold Kyla. As much as she wanted to do that, she couldn’t—this was the first step. The healing would start with Kyla’s words. “Well, he can’t guess,” the pastor said. “You have to tell him.”
When Kyla shook her head, the pastor turned to Jefferson. “Jefferson, do you want to know?”
He opened his mouth, but his words were stuck inside. Swallowing hard, he nodded.
“Tell her. Tell Kyla that you want to know.”
His eyes pleaded with her. “Kyla, I want to know,” he said soberly.
It was probably only seconds, though it seemed like minutes were passing. She wished she was anywhere but in this office at this moment. Kyla looked up and stared through Jefferson. “Do you really want to know, Jefferson?” Her question sounded sarcastic.
“Yes?” Fear had turned his statement into a question.
She took a deep breath. “I thought I was special to you. I thought that what we had was special. But my pain comes from knowing that I was disposable. You were willing to throw away all of it, including me . . .”
“No, Kyla. That’s not true.”
Pastor Ford shook her head. “Jefferson, what Kyla is telling us is what she’s feeling. You can’t tell her that it’s not true.”
“That’s not what I mean . . .”
“I think the best thing we can do right now is listen. No matter how hard it is, let Kyla get it out. There’ll be time to respond.”
Jefferson nodded.
Kyla breathed again before she spoke. “I don’t know who I am anymore. My whole life has been a lie. You’re not the man I thought you were. We don’t have the marriage I thought we had . . . everything is turned upside-down. I feel like . . . there’s not enough air on this earth for me to breathe because I realize I mean nothing to you.”
Jefferson couldn’t hold back. “That’s not true!”
“I couldn’t mean anything to you, if you could be so intimate with someone else and you never considered how I would feel.”
“I didn’t think you’d be hurt . . . I didn’t think you would find out . . .”
She stood and paced in front of the desk, seemingly ignoring his words. “I feel like the earth has just stopped spinning and, because of that . . . sometimes I feel like . . . I want to die.”
“Please . . .”
Her pacing stopped suddenly and she stood over him with piercing eyes. “But the worst times are when I wish that you were dead. Because losing you that way . . . would be so much easier than having to live through the humiliation of this.”
A screaming silence followed, broken moments later by the violent sobs that rose within Kyla, jerking her body with every breath. Jefferson jumped from his chair, pulling Kyla into his arms, letting her tears fall onto his chest.
Pastor Ford remained still, letting them hold each other as she held back her own tears. After several minutes, she exhaled deeply. “Well, I think we’ve started. What about meeting again on Tuesday?”
Still holding Kyla tightly, Jefferson nodded.
“Kyla, can you sit down for just one more moment?”
Nodding, she leaned down into the chair and Jefferson knelt next to her, still holding her hands.
“We’re going to close on something that is going to be so important to you in the days to come. I’ll read the scripture, but tonight or tomorrow you should meditate on this. It’s Ephesians 4:26. And it says, Be ye angry and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath: Neither give place to the devil.” The pastor looked up. “If there is any piece of advice I can give you, it’s to commit this scripture to your spirit. Do not give the devil a foothold in this situation. He’s going to use this, abuse this, do whatever he has to do to get you off your course. But that’s just his job. Your job is to stand. And you can only stand by doing the Word.”
The pastor came around to the other side of the desk and smiled warmly. “So, for someone who didn’t want to take too much time, I think we accomplished a lot, wouldn’t you agree?” She hugged Kyla for a long moment. Then, pulling back, her eyes bore into Kyla’s. “You . .
. just . . . stand.”
Still holding Kyla’s hand, she reached for Jefferson and bowed her head. “Now, let’s pray.”
The Florida sun was still hanging proudly as Jasmine waved to the 1989 Honda backing out of the driveway. Closing the door behind her, she sighed. It had been quite a homecoming. Her father, much grayer now, had held her hand the entire time, like he had been able to read her mind and knew that she would disappear if he let go. She had felt like she was suffocating in the small rooms, overflowing with family. Relief flooded her now as she finally had some peace.
“Ouch!” she yelled as a piece of torn plastic from the couch’s slipcover scraped against her leg. Moving to the other end, she sat and stared out the window, her gaze moving along the block at the other small cottages that aligned this street. She shook her head. It was a different state, but this looked just like the neighborhood where she’d grown up. It was like Serena had never left home.
Sighing again, she sauntered into the kitchen and sat down at the table, running her fingers along the stiff plastic tablecloth. With the frayed flowered curtains, paint-chipped cabinets, faded yellow paint, and rusted appliances lining the counters, this room was exactly like the one where she had eaten her childhood meals.
She had worked so hard to escape this kind of life. And, she had succeeded. She belonged to the group of rising affluent African Americans. That’s why she lived in the Colony Homes. That’s why she only wore designer clothes and drove a luxury car. That’s why she was willing to stretch every dollar she had. It all helped her to get as far away from this kind of room as possible. And Jefferson would have been just another key to her success.
Jefferson. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, especially after what Lynn Carrington had said. Maybe she was alone, but she wouldn’t have been had things worked out between her and Jefferson. But what would happen now? Would Lynn’s predictions become her reality? With her elbows resting on the table, Jasmine folded her hands and looked up at the ceiling. “God, I don’t even know how to do this really, not anymore. I don’t remember how to pray, but I hope just talking will do it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I really didn’t. I just don’t want to face every day by myself. I don’t want to be alone. So, now that these last weeks are behind me, please help me. I need all the help I can get from You. Please, help me to find that special someone in my life. Please help me get my life together.”
She pulled her hands down and stood, then remembered and looked back up to the ceiling. “Amen.” Running to the bedroom she was sharing with her nieces, she picked up the keys to the rental car. With her purse on her shoulder, she got into the car and put on her sunglasses, trying to recall the exact route. She’d forgotten to even ask if they attended the same church.
Maneuvering through the streets of Pensacola, she had to admit, there was something about this little town where her dad was born that she really did love. The houses were smaller than she was used to, but there was a feeling of community that she never felt in Los Angeles. “Maybe I should move here,” she said aloud, then laughed hysterically. “No way! This place is too country for me!”
With the passing miles, the streets became more familiar and she coasted along, the images of the past weeks traveling with her. She hadn’t meant to cause any real harm to Kyla and Jefferson. Everyone was making such a big deal out of all of this when it was really nothing. People had affairs all the time. Jefferson had probably already told Kyla that it was only that one time. It looked like God had handled everything for them.
She chuckled. All afternoon God had been coming into her thoughts. She wasn’t even sure she believed God existed. How could an unseen spirit control everything? And, if there was a God, why didn’t anyone have any real proof?
But, on the other hand, as she looked around now at the hills and the birds and the clouds in the sky, maybe this was all the evidence that was needed to prove God’s existence. Something had to create all of this. Jasmine laughed. “Why am I spending all of this time thinking about God?”
Minutes later, she pulled up in front of the church, relieved that Serena’s car was in the parking lot. They would all be so surprised—and glad to see her. Well, this was the least she could do. While she was in Florida, she’d do her best to make them feel good. Let them know that there was no reason to worry about her. She was fine and always would be. There was no one walking the earth who was better at surviving than Jasmine Cox Larson.
Her sandals crunched the gravel as she moved toward the front, and her eyes focused on the message on the marquee: Are You Searching For Him? She stopped for a moment, feeling like it was a personal message. Maybe, maybe not. She had been searching for something. What she really wanted was a man in her life.
She continued towards the large double doors and as she moved forward, out of nowhere, words came to her mind. “O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever.” She wasn’t sure if that was from the Bible or not. She hadn’t quoted anything from the Bible since she was a child and had no idea why these words were coming to her right now. Maybe a repressed memory from a long-forgotten Sunday school lesson. Maybe. She smiled as she walked through the doors and searched the crowded seats for her father and sister. Seeing the top of her father’s head, she crept down the aisle and slipped into the pew.
Her father didn’t even look surprised as she squeezed his hand. “Welcome home, honey,” he whispered.
Smiling, she clasped her hand tightly in his. She did feel like she was home.
Twenty-seven
* * *
Jasmine looked at the apple-shaped clock that hung above the kitchen sink. It was already four in the morning and she had not had one hour of sleep. The pitch blackness of the night was threatening to fade and she knew dawn would be arriving soon. She poured milk from the pot sitting on the gas stove and began sipping, hoping this would bring slumber. But minutes later when she finished, she still felt as awake as she had several hours before.
She’d been feeling unsettled all evening. Ever since she went to church. Are you searching for Him? The words from the marquee were set in her mind. And then, there was the children’s program. Just as she entered the church, the children’s choir began singing their first song—I will lift up my eyes to the hills from which cometh my help, my help cometh from the Lord, the Lord which made heaven and earth. He said he will not suffer thy foot, thy foot to be moved, the Lord that keepth thee, He will not slumber nor sleep . . . The words of the beautiful song shocked her. Hadn’t she just prayed for help? Could it be that God wanted to help her? She had prayed, but she never expected God to hear. It wasn’t like she deserved God’s love or attention.
“What are you doing up?”
Jasmine jumped at the sound of her sister’s voice. “I couldn’t sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you.” She tightened her silk robe around her waist.
“Is it jet lag?” Serena yawned, as her feet scuffed along the linoleum floor. She sat down at the table with her sister. Pink foam rollers crowned her head.
“Maybe . . . I have a question for you. How do you know God exists?”
Though the question surprised her, Serena answered casually, “Well, in the beginning, my belief was total blind faith. Our Sunday School teachers told us God was real and I just believed. And as a child, I loved the scripture, in fact, it was the first one I learned—Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed. But, as I’ve gotten older, it’s become easier to believe because I just look around. Look at my life.”
Jasmine looked at her sister incredulously. “How can you say God exists by your life? Look at you—your husband died, leaving you with two young children. You’re stuck in this little town . . .”
“That’s what you see. When I look at my life, I see a God who brought me through my husband’s death and gave me enough money from the insurance so that I now own my home. I have two beautiful children who help me carry on the memory of Robert. And, God has blessed me with a
position with Xerox that I couldn’t have imagined. Every need I have is met and most of my desires. I have a peace and joy in my life that I don’t even understand. So, this can’t be anything but God.”
The ticking of the old clock was the only sound in the kitchen and Jasmine nodded slowly. “So, how did you get all of this? How did you get God in your life?”
Serena smiled and reached across the table to touch her sister’s hand. “I just asked,” she said softly.
“I don’t think I could ask God for anything. I’ve done too many things . . .”
“Honey, Jesus came for sinners. He wants you just the way you are. God wants to be in your life.”
“I keep hearing Mrs. Carrington’s voice in my mind,” Jasmine started. Her eyes were glazed as if she were remembering the conversation. “She said I would be alone, but the truth is, I feel like I’m already there. There’s no one in my life that really cares about me.” Jasmine waved her hands as Serena started to protest. “I know there’s you and Dad, but there’s no one else. I feel like I’m going backwards and I have to try another way. And,” she continued as her voice began to quiver, “I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen if things keep going this way. I don’t want to be alone.”
Serena got up and knelt next to her sister. “With the Lord, you’ll never be alone.” She took Jasmine’s hands into hers. “Let me help you find God again.”
Jasmine began to tremble. “Serena, you don’t know the things I’ve done . . .”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Jefferson wasn’t the only one. There have been so many others—married men . . .”
Serena kept shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. God wants you in exactly the place you’re in.” Serena went into the living room, returning with her Bible. “Jasmine, are you ready for a change in your life?”
Jasmine nodded, though she wasn’t sure she could do this. How could she go to God when her life was such a mess? Didn’t she have to straighten out a few things first? And what would this mean anyway? Did she now have to go to church every Sunday? Was she supposed to give up sex? Was she supposed to give up parties—though Kyla and Jefferson were always going to parties? What would God expect from her now? She held her head, shaking it slightly. This was so confusing.
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