“Just know that you all are welcome at Greater Macedonia anytime,” the woman said, still looking at Lester like he was the gravy and she was the biscuit.
“Thank you so much for having us, but I must get going.” Rachel flashed an apologetic smile and quickly made her escape. She was so ready to get out of there and get home. When Jasmine had put her out, Rachel had wanted to hop on the first thing smoking and get home. But Lester had managed to calm her down and convince her to attend the service. Still, she was leaving this evening on a five o’clock flight and she was set to go.
“Excuse me, may I steal my husband away?” Rachel said to the group of men standing around Lester. “Just for a moment.”
They all nodded as Rachel draped her arm through Lester’s and led him to a corner.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pushing a tendril of hair out of her face.
“I am,” Rachel replied. “I just want to go. And the car should be here.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back with you? I know you’re trying to act like this whole thing isn’t bothering you, but I can see in your eyes that it is.”
She feigned a smile. “I’m good. Just tired and need to figure out what to say to my father. But hopefully I’ll come up with something between now and the time I get home.”
“Well, you call me if you need anything and I’ll see you on Tuesday.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Love you and make sure you let me know you got on your flight.”
Ten minutes later, Rachel was settled in the backseat of the town car, replaying the whole scene at Jasmine’s. Her cell phone vibrated, jolting her out of her thoughts. Rachel smiled when she saw her brother’s name pop up on the screen.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hey, li’l sis,” Jonathan replied. “I was just calling to check on you. See how everything went. David filled me in and I was really worried about you. I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”
Rachel released a heavy sigh. Jonathan was much more levelheaded than David and she really could talk to him about what she was truly feeling. But what was the use? Jasmine had refused the test. And now they were officially no longer friends.
“What did you find out?” Jonathan asked when she didn’t say anything.
“I found out we aren’t going to find out anything,” Rachel finally replied. “Jasmine is being her usual difficult self and it’s just not even worth it.”
“So, you couldn’t get her to take the DNA test?”
She slid her Gucci sunglasses on. Her real Gucci sunglasses. A few years ago, it would’ve been nothing for Rachel to wear some knockoffs. But that was one thing she’d picked up from Jasmine, how she was worthy of the real thing (even though she still bought her designer stuff at a discount, unlike Jasmine, who paid exorbitant costs for everything). “Nope, but it’s for the best anyway,” Rachel replied. She needed to stop letting her mind wander to anything positive Jasmine had brought to her life, since she would no longer be in it. “I need to just shut this down with Daddy and move on.”
“You know he’s going to want to talk to her and convince her to take the test himself.”
“I know. That’s why I’m thinking of telling him that we took the DNA test and confirmed that he was not her father.”
“So you’re going to lie?”
“I’m not going to lie. I just want to protect Daddy. Jasmine doesn’t care about anybody but herself.”
“I imagine this can’t be easy on her,” Jonathan said.
“Yeah,” Rachel acknowledged. As mad as she was, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she hadn’t lost sight of that fact. “I know. I actually get that. If she turns out to be Dad’s child, there would be so many questions. Her whole life would’ve been a lie.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Rachel felt some of her anger seeping away. What would she do if someone showed up talking about Simon not being her father? She’d probably throw them out of her house, too.
“How are you taking it?” Jonathan asked.
She shrugged like he could see her, then when she realized he couldn’t, she said, “I’m cool. I wanted to know for sure, but she threw me out of her house, and after the ugly way she acted, I don’t even care.”
He laughed. “You know you care. But I’m proud of you. The old Rachel would’ve been ready to turn things up if someone threw her out.”
“I know, right?”
“I really am proud of you.”
“Thank you, Jonathan.” Rachel leaned back in her seat and smiled. She might not have any sisters, but her brothers had always shown her unconditional love. Even when they were bickering, they had her back. Her whole family—even her crazy extended family—was full of love. If Jasmine didn’t want to be a part of that, then it was her loss.
Chapter
9
Jasmine
Jasmine yawned as the plane made its final descent.
“Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for landing.”
There was no beckoning skyline as she glanced out the window. Only the tallest building, the fifteen-story Crowne Plaza Hotel, shone welcoming lights. The sight of Pensacola made Jasmine yawn once again.
It was because she hadn’t slept in three days that she was making this trip. Truly, Jasmine felt like she hadn’t really closed her eyes in seventy-two hours, catching short naps, a couple of hours at a time. But trying to stay awake hadn’t helped. Even with her eyes open, she had nightmares. Rachel wouldn’t go away, and neither would her nonsensical words.
Last night she’d decided she had to do something, so she’d begun to think about taking this trip. Because Serena would call Rachel all kinds of crazy, too. She wouldn’t be like Hosea, who had actually given a moment’s credence to Rachel and whatever scam she was trying to pull.
She hadn’t called her sister to tell her she was coming, though. Hadn’t said a word since she’d made the final decision this morning and hadn’t even purchased a ticket until she’d arrived at the airport this evening.
That wasn’t a concern. She wasn’t worried about Serena being away or anything. Her sister had such a mundane life: she went to work and came home. There wasn’t much more than that since her daughters had decided to stay on campus at Hampton University for the summer.
Jasmine couldn’t imagine how boring her sister’s life had to be without her daughters and without a man. Even though she had tried to hook Serena up a few years ago, it seemed Serena hardly dated, never getting over the death of her husband all those years ago.
So, she knew her sister would be home—almost waiting for her—ready to tell Jasmine all she wanted and everything she needed to hear.
The moment the wheels touched the tarmac, Jasmine switched her phone from airplane mode and texted Hosea: just landed. will call later. love u.
Two seconds later, his text came back: love u more. b safe, b well.
Jasmine sighed. Safe she was. But well? She wouldn’t be well until she told Serena and then the two of them figured out Rachel’s angle. That was what concerned Jasmine the most. What was Rachel up to with this asinine story?
As soon as the seat belt sign clicked off, Jasmine jumped from her first-class seat, grabbed her carry-on, and maneuvered through the Pensacola airport. Her steps were strong and determined as her thoughts stayed on her mission. Once she figured this out with Serena, she was going to war. Rachel Jackson Adams had never seen what Jasmine had in store for her. She was going to make that trollop pay for her sleepless nights.
Jasmine jumped into the first cab in the line and as the car pulled away from the airport, her thoughts took a break and she allowed her mind to wander. It was only a little after nine, but it easily could have been the middle of the night in Pensacola with the way every business was shut and every street was deserted. As the cab zipped by the darkened storefronts, Jasmine marveled at the fact that she’d actually lived here for two whole years.
&
nbsp; Pensacola was her bridge between her younger days in Los Angeles and her grown-woman life in New York. This small town had served its purpose for her, though. She’d moved here searching for what? She did not know. She’d found it, or rather, she’d found Him. She’d accepted the Lord here, though there was little evidence of a change in her life at first. And then she’d moved to New York in search of something else. And she’d found him—Hosea Bush.
God had saved her soul; Hosea had saved her heart.
Now she was living a queen’s life, with a prominent husband and two children who could already grace the cover of any top-selling magazine. Maybe that was why Rachel had come to toss a torpedo into the middle of her nirvana. Maybe that’s what jealousy and envy did to people who didn’t have many accomplishments or much of a life of their own.
She sighed. Couldn’t she keep her thoughts away from Rachel for even ten minutes? It was a relief when the car began to slow its roll as the driver eased in front of the house that had been passed down from her grandfather, to her father, and now to her and Serena. All the lights were out, even though it seemed a bit too early for Serena to be asleep.
“That’ll be fourteen dollars,” the driver said.
She tossed him a twenty and slid out of the cab. Even when the car moved away, Jasmine stood in the darkness, staring at the house that held so many memories.
Here was where she’d spent most of her childhood summers, with her grandparents who cared more about chores than letting children have their fun. Here was where her family’s idea of a great evening was sitting in front of the television and playing a game of dominoes.
Jasmine had wanted to get so far away from this place that when their father had died, she’d told her sister to take her name off the deed.
“You can have this house,” Jasmine had told Serena right before she moved to New York. “I want no part of this.”
Serena had shaken her head. “You say that now, but this house belongs to both of us. This is our family legacy . . . the Cox legacy.”
Jasmine had scoffed then, but as she stood staring at the two-story, block-shaped house that looked like all the other homes on this street, the memory of her sister’s words had never been more comforting.
Yes, this was her father’s legacy. Her father. She was a Cox.
She moved toward the house and stood at the top of the steps right in front of the door. She placed her bag down on the wooden planks and let more memories flood her mind.
She thought about how her father had run up and down this street with her one Christmas when they’d come to Florida and her grandparents had given her a bicycle (albeit used) as a gift.
She recalled the summer before she went to college, and how her father had sent her five hundred dollars (more money than he’d given her in all her years of life combined) and told her to go on a shopping spree because clothes were cheaper in Florida and he wanted her to be the best-dressed girl on the UCLA campus.
And she remembered when she’d moved here from Los Angeles (following her father and sister who had relocated years before) how he’d welcomed her broken soul with arms that stayed open.
“You made a terrible mistake,” he’d said once she’d told him the real reason she’d left LA—that she had slept with her best friend’s husband. “But terrible mistakes don’t make you a terrible person unless you keep doing that same mistake over and over.”
Then he had held her and loved her until she came back to life. Jasmine had no doubt that only a father, a real father, could help a daughter rise from the ashes that had been her life back then.
“I am a Cox,” she whispered. “I am a Cox.” She made that her mantra, repeating it over and over, faster and faster, until the words meshed together forming a senseless stream. And then, without any warning, she burst into tears.
Only seconds passed before light hit the porch, shining bright on Jasmine as if she stood in the center of a stage. She heard Serena’s voice before she looked up and saw her.
“What in the world? Jasmine?” Serena pushed open the screen door and at the same time tightened her robe. “What in the world?” she repeated. “Come in. What are you doing here?”
“I . . . I . . .” Jasmine sobbed.
As if she were the elder, Serena wrapped her arms around her sister’s waist and led her inside to the sofa. Once Jasmine sat, Serena went back to the porch for Jasmine’s bag before returning to her sister.
Sitting down, Serena pulled Jasmine’s hands away from her face. “What in the world is going on? What are you doing here?”
Jasmine’s shoulders shook as she whimpered.
“Is it Hosea? Oh my God!” Serena held her hand against her chest. “Is something wrong with the kids?”
Jasmine shook her head, then took a few breaths before she answered. “No, everything is fine.”
“Clearly everything is not fine. Because look around . . . you’re in Pensacola. Unless you were headed to Jamaica and you got off at the wrong stop.”
Jasmine’s lips curled into the tiniest of smiles. “Didn’t I tell you that I was going to come and visit?”
“Um, yeah. You and the kids and Hosea . . . next month.”
Before Jasmine could explain more, she heard the sound of slow footsteps coming down the stairs. Now Jasmine’s smile widened. She hadn’t expected her nieces to be home and as she waited for one or both to appear, she tried to remember the last time she’d seen them. It was a sin and a shame that she couldn’t recall.
But then Jasmine’s smile collapsed when the legs that descended were those of a man. And then she saw the rest of him. A grown man. Wrapped in a bathrobe, just like Serena’s.
“Is everything okay, baby?” the man asked, as he glanced at Serena.
Jasmine’s eyes became the size of silver dollars as the man stepped into the living room.
“Carl?” Jasmine said his name as if she were asking a question. Her eyes moved from the man who had been her coworker when she lived in Pensacola to her sister. But no matter how many times Jasmine looked back and forth between the two of them, she could not get this picture to compute.
He nodded. “What’s up?”
What’s up? Somebody needed to say more to her than “what’s up”!
Carl asked, “Is everything okay?”
Jasmine felt like she should be the one asking the questions. “I didn’t know you and Serena were still seeing each other.” Her words were meant for Carl, even though her eyes were on Serena.
“Uh, yeah. I don’t know why you would think anything else. From the moment I met Serena, I knew she was the one.”
“Awww, baby.”
Awww, baby?
Thoughts of sleepless nights and why she’d made the trek to Pensacola skipped right out of Jasmine’s mind.
Carl said, “Is everything all right down here?”
“Yeah,” Serena answered. Then she looked at Jasmine. “I think we’re good.”
Jasmine nodded, just because she couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Okay, well, I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
“I’ll be up soon, baby,” Serena said before she blew Carl a kiss.
Then with a mere nod to Jasmine, Carl trotted up the steps. Jasmine’s eyes followed him until she couldn’t see him anymore and then she turned to her sister, staring at her as if she’d never seen her before.
“Really?” Jasmine said. “You’re involved with this man?”
“Uh . . . yeah. Why would you have a problem with that when you’re the one who introduced us?”
“I introduced you, but that was how many years ago? I didn’t know this was still going on.”
“I never told you that we stopped, did I? We’re still going on and going strong.”
“And you never told me”—Jasmine leaned over and flipped up the hem of Serena’s robe—“that all this was going on.” She shook her head. “You? The church girl? And isn’t he a church boy?”
“Don’t get it twist
ed. We still love the Lord. It’s just that it had been so long.” Serena shook her head. “I’m telling you, with Carl I understand that scripture about the spirit being willing but this danggone flesh . . .” She shrugged. “But we’ll be getting married soon.”
Jasmine leaned back and raised a single eyebrow. “Really? Without me knowing about it?”
“Please, you’re my big sister. You will always know about everything.”
Big sister!
Serena’s words stopped cold the interrogation that Jasmine planned. And those tears she’d been fighting welled up in her eyes once again.
“Okay, you’re going to have to tell me—what in the world is going on?”
“It’s Rachel. Rachel Adams. She’s come up with some crazy story.”
“What kind of story could drive you to tears and to Pensacola?”
Jasmine inhaled, then exhaled the words: “Rachel says that I’m her sister; that her father is really my father.” She paused and waited for Serena to jump up and exclaim her outrage at the complete ridiculousness of that statement.
But all Serena said was “Go on. Tell me what she said to you.”
Maybe she’s in shock. So Jasmine told her sister the story of how Rachel showed up at her home, tore down her medicine cabinet, and then told this psycho story of her father and their mother.
As Jasmine spoke, she waited for that moment when Serena would laugh, wave her hands, and tell Jasmine she was right—Rachel was some kind of psychotic sociopath who got a kick out of playing with other people’s feelings.
But all Serena did was sit there and listen, pensive, the same way Hosea had listened the first time she told him. Serena listened as if she were giving credence to what Rachel had said, too.
A Blessing & a Curse Page 6