And now, with this ridiculous revelation, Jasmine felt like she was on the verge of being cheated once again—this time out of a father.
But she wasn’t going to let Simon or Rachel or Hosea or anyone do that to her. She’d lost her mother when she was twenty; she wasn’t about to lose her father now that she was closer to fifty than forty. No matter what a freakin’ test said.
And it wasn’t just because to her Charles Cox would always be her father. It was that Simon Jackson didn’t deserve to call her daughter. Not after the way he’d treated her mother.
“So, what did Simon say?” Hosea asked.
Hearing his name aloud made her cringe all over. “I don’t want to talk about this, Hosea.”
“Humor me,” he said with a smile, but that was just a ruse. He was pretending this was a lighthearted conversation, but her husband was in pastor mode and she hated when he tried to minister to her.
She glared at him. He smiled back. Silent seconds passed between them. And then, God won.
Jasmine sighed. “He said he wanted to talk and explain stuff to me.”
Hosea nodded.
“And he said,” Jasmine continued, “that he wants me to come to his family reunion.”
“In Houston?”
“No, in Smackover.” She’d told Hosea about the conversation with Aunt Virginia and had told him how that town had held a special place in her mother’s heart. But what she’d left out, what she hadn’t told anyone was that now she felt a tug on her heart whenever she heard of or thought about Smackover. She thought about that place where her mother had first fallen in love. And she couldn’t help but think about it as the place where her life began. It was the city where she was conceived.
The truth of it was that Jasmine Cox Larson Bush was from Smackover, Arkansas!
But that didn’t have anything to do with her and this family reunion. Those people weren’t her family.
It was the way Hosea looked at her that made her grab her purse, sling it over her shoulder, and fold her arms. “I swear if you say one word to me about going to Smackover, I’m out of here.”
“I thought we were going out to dinner.”
“We won’t be going anywhere if you say that . . .”
“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you’re not curious. I mean, Smackover.” He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “Who could pass up an invitation like that?” he asked in a tone that was supposed to make her laugh, but all she wanted to do was cry.
“Me! I can pass it up.”
“So, you’re not even a little bit curious about that place and those people . . . your people?”
“No!” she said, though that was a lie. Her curiosity kept rising and the truth was, she did plan to go down there. She wanted to walk through the town, see what her mother saw, see if it would bring her any kind of connection, bring her any closer to the mother she loved even more now knowing what she had been through for her. Knowing how her mother had kept her against everyone else’s wishes.
But she didn’t want to visit Smackover with anyone around. Especially not Simon, Rachel, and their family. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to tell Mae Frances or Hosea when she finally made that trip. She was thinking that her journey to Smackover would be best done alone.
“I want you to do me a favor,” Hosea said as he slid the purse from Jasmine’s shoulder. “I want you to pray.”
“I pray every morning.”
Hosea chuckled. “Well, there’s no law against praying all day, any day, all the time. I want you to go into the sanctuary and pray.”
“Hosea,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“No, seriously. I’m not saying to pray so that God will tell you to go to Smackover, because even if He did, I don’t think you’re going to listen to Him. You’re not going to listen to anyone right now because your heart is so hard.”
“No, it’s not.”
“And I’m always concerned about anyone who walks around with a hardened heart,” he said as if he didn’t hear her objection. He stepped away, but even as he walked back to his desk, she stood like a planted tree. He sat down in his chair and picked up his Bible. “I can give you the scriptures about what happens to folks with hard hearts. Check out Romans, chapter two, verse five.” And then without even opening the Bible, Hosea quoted, “But because of your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath when God’s righteous judgment—”
“All right!” Jasmine said, not even letting her husband finish. She marched out of the office and into the hallway that led to the sanctuary. She couldn’t say that she’d ever heard that verse before, but it didn’t matter. Hosea had said enough to make her think maybe she should pray.
Jasmine stepped through the door that Hosea and his father used to enter the sanctuary during services. And she paused for a moment. City of Lights at Riverside Church always seemed so grand to her, but never more than when it was like this. The rows and rows that held three thousand in both of their Sunday services were empty, and even though dusk was fast approaching, there was no artificial light. The sun that still shone outside streamed through the huge stained-glass windows, creating beams of light throughout.
With reverence, Jasmine moved toward the altar, her slow steps silent on the thick carpet. And as she got closer, she smiled a little. This had been Hosea’s idea, but now she was glad that she was here. Because for the first time since she’d heard this news, she felt serene. There was no one in her ear telling her what to do. No one trying to make her feel bad when Simon Jackson should be the one to carry all the shame.
At the front, she stood for a moment, staring at the gold cross that hung high on the wall behind the pulpit. She thought of the times when she’d come here by herself to pray. It still amazed her that she knew God this way. And yes, she did know Him. And He knew her, which was even more of a shock to Jasmine. But she knew she had this relationship with God because when she prayed, she felt Him.
But when she prayed here at the altar, she heard Him.
Using the rail for balance, she lowered herself onto the cushions. Then she bowed her head and her heart and she talked to God. She prayed for peace—that was what she wanted most. And she prayed for God to loosen her heart. Not enough for her to go to Smackover, because Hosea was right—God Himself would have to send Jesus Himself down from Heaven itself to convince her that she should go. And even then, she was sure she’d be able to convince God and His Son that she didn’t need to be near Arkansas right now.
But she wanted her heart loose enough so she could feel peace. And she knew that here, at the altar, God would give it to her.
Chapter
18
Rachel
Rachel studied the digital ARRIVALS screen. JFK flights to Little Rock. 10:40. On time.
A flutter of nervousness passed through her stomach. Jasmine was about to meet her people. Jasmine, who always had something to say, was really about to meet the craziness that was the Jackson family.
Rachel still couldn’t believe that she was here. That she’d done it. That she’d actually been able to convince Jasmine to come to Smackover. She smiled, proud of herself. All her life, people had underestimated her. Even Jasmine had underestimated her when their husbands first started running for the American Baptist Coalition presidency. People thought that she could be ditzy. But Rachel wasn’t anything close to a fool. She had street sense and common sense and she knew how to get what she wanted. That’s why after two days of racking her brain, she’d come up with the perfect plan to get Jasmine to agree to come to Arkansas.
Her cell phone rang, snapping Rachel out of her thoughts. She smiled when her best friend’s name popped up on the screen. Twyla had all but bet her that Jasmine wouldn’t show.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Twyla said before Rachel could even say hello.
“Her flight hasn’t landed and as far as I know, she’s still coming.”
Twyla tsked. She’d never eve
n met Jasmine, but after everything Rachel had shared, Twyla made it clear she didn’t care for her. “I just can’t believe she’s coming. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall.”
“It’s not that serious,” Rachel said.
“Please. That bougie heifer. You make sure your uncle Bubba feeds her some coon.”
Rachel laughed. “You know even I don’t eat that mess.”
“Well, feed it to her anyway. And record it and put it on Facebook.”
They laughed and joked some more as Rachel slid into a seat outside of baggage claim.
After a few minutes, Twyla said, “Rachel, all jokes aside. I’m proud of you. When you told me you had thought about lying to get her there, I knew that was the route you were going to take.”
Twyla was right. Rachel had been trying to come up with a plan to get Jasmine to agree to come to the family reunion. After the switcheroo with her father, she knew Jasmine would be unlikely to answer any more of her calls. So she’d contemplated lying, telling Jasmine some elaborate story to get her to come, but in the end she just wanted to operate in a place of truth. Her relationship with Jasmine was up-and-down enough. Lies would only shake the foundation even more.
“Yeah, I couldn’t do it,” Rachel said.
“Well, you found a way to get through to her. But look, Calvin just got back with the kids so I gotta go before he starts trippin’. Call and let me know how it went. Or better yet, post it on Facebook.” She laughed.
“Bye, girl.” Rachel wasn’t about to let this weekend play out on social media for her friends’ entertainment.
She leaned back and thought about everything. It was actually her daughter who had helped her come up with a plan.
Rachel had been sitting at her computer, on the verge of giving up on the whole Jasmine family reunion thing, when Nia had come bouncing into her office.
“Hey, Mom. What are you doing?”
“Just working, sweet pea.”
Nia leaned in and looked at her computer screen, where she had been reading an article about Jasmine. “Why are you reading about Ms. Jasmine?”
“Just doing some work.”
“Ooh, look at Jacqueline’s dress, Mom,” Nia said, pointing to a picture in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. Jasmine and her children were standing in front of a building with a bright yellow ribbon around it. It looked like a grand opening. Rachel leaned in closer to read the caption.
“Oh, it looks like that’s for her charity, Jacqueline’s Hope,” Rachel said.
“I hope I can get a fancy dress like that.” Nia turned to her mom. “Why don’t you open a charity in my name?”
Rachel smiled and shuttled her daughter out of the office. “Little girl, go clean your room.”
Nia laughed as she exited. “I’m serious, Mom. I want a charity.”
Rachel shook her head at her little drama queen. If only Nia knew why Jasmine had started Jacqueline’s Hope. She wouldn’t want to have to endure a kidnapping, just to have a charity named after her. Rachel was proud of the traction Jacqueline’s Hope was getting. As she finished reading the article, she stopped when she got to one line. A direct quote from Jasmine: “We hope to expand Jacqueline’s Hope.”
Then, a slow smile spread across Rachel’s face.
Expand.
She’d made a few calls, first to her cousin Leo, who directed her to her cousin Wanda, who confirmed that the old Piggly Wiggly building that was owned by her aunt Ruby was still abandoned.
The perfect place to expand.
Simon had been thrilled with the idea and made a call to Aunt Ruby, who would do anything for her brother, including give him a building she had long ago stopped caring about but refused to sell because it had been the one legacy her father had left her.
So Rachel had called, and called, and called, until Jasmine finally picked up.
“Why are you blowing up my phone?” Jasmine had snapped without even saying hello.
“Because I need to talk to you,” Rachel replied.
Jasmine let out a heavy sigh. “Rachel, seriously, I can’t do this with you. I only answered to plead with you to just leave me alone.”
“Jasmine, I understand what you’re going through. More than you even know.”
“I’m glad you understand, but that doesn’t change—”
“We want to open a Jacqueline’s Hope in Smackover.”
That caused an abrupt silence and Rachel seized the opportunity.
“This isn’t about you or me. Or even Daddy. This is about the thousands of children all over the South who need something like Jacqueline’s Hope.” Rachel knew she was laying it on thick, but she would do whatever was necessary. Besides, she believed in the cause, so it wasn’t like she was lying. “Don’t let your hard heart stop others from getting a blessing. You’ve been talking about expanding. You don’t have any centers in the South. Think of the difference this could make. Building this facility in a place your mother met her first love.” She rushed her words out, making sure the sincerity was evident. “My family has a building that would be perfect. My aunt Ruby loves children and would be great to run it. Or you could bring in your own staff. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
Rachel could tell by Jasmine’s silence that she was making progress, so she continued. “Yes, my father wants to see you, get to know you, but he won’t push a relationship. If you want to just say hello to our family, then go back to your hotel, we’ll even understand that.” Rachel didn’t bother to tell her the only hotel was the Super 8. “I’ll take care of your hotel reservations, contact the media in nearby cities, and since my grandmother used to babysit the mayor, he’ll even come out in support.”
“And you’re doing all of this because?”
“I believe in Jacqueline’s Hope, that’s why. And I want to make my father happy. Being able to do this for you would bring him joy.”
More silence. Then, finally, Jasmine said, “I’ll think about it and call you back tomorrow.” She hung up the phone without another word.
That had been a week ago. She had indeed called Rachel back the next day and agreed to come. She claimed it was only because of Jacqueline’s Hope, but Rachel could tell she had some underlying reasons. It didn’t matter, she was coming.
It was at that point that Rachel looked up and saw a diva strutting through the small airport, her oversized designer sunglasses on, rolling Chanel luggage, her face devoid of a smile.
Jasmine wasn’t just coming. She was here.
Chapter
19
Jasmine
Head high. Steps deliberate. No emotion.
That mantra played in Jasmine’s head as she stepped off the escalator. Right away she spotted Rachel to her left, standing next to one of the tables near the windows. Even from so many feet away, Jasmine could tell from the way Rachel clutched her purse that she was nervous.
The polite thing would have been for Jasmine to acknowledge her, and to move toward Rachel. Instead she turned to her right and strutted toward the Starbucks counter. It wasn’t that she was trying to be rude. It was just that she needed drugs before she could face her . . . Jasmine paused the thought in her head. She wasn’t prepared to call Rachel anything more than Rachel. She needed another cup of coffee before she could even do that.
She stopped at the counter, and behind her Hosea whispered, “Darlin’, Rachel’s over there.”
Jasmine nodded, though she didn’t turn around. “I saw her.”
“Don’t you think we should at least go over there first?”
“No.”
Then, before Hosea could say another word, Jacqueline shouted out, “Auntie Rachel!”
Jasmine whipped around as she watched her daughter dash like an Olympian through the maze of tables and then jump into Rachel’s arms.
Ugh! Traitor!
At least Zaya didn’t rush over to her. Why did Jacqueline love Rachel so much? And then Jasmine wondered if somehow her daughter knew. She and Hosea
hadn’t said a word to the children about this situation and Jasmine had no intention of ever saying anything. She wouldn’t have even been on the plane, she would’ve never seen Rachel again if it weren’t for Jacqueline’s Hope.
She’d been praying to open up a third facility and Jasmine would’ve thought this was some kind of trick if Rachel hadn’t called two days after Jasmine had been in the sanctuary praying. True, she hadn’t been praying about Jacqueline’s Hope, but wasn’t that just like God? Jacqueline’s Hope wasn’t in her prayers that day, but it had been in her heart. And He’d given her the desire of her heart—even if it had to come through Simon and Rachel. Jasmine didn’t care who brought the blessing; she was just grateful that she was being blessed. And so many children and parents would be blessed, too. That was why she had agreed to come to Smackover. Because she would do anything to help a missing child’s family and to have the hope of returning even one child to his or her home.
Even though she would do anything for her charity, however, she wasn’t going to have a thing to do with . . . this family. She, Hosea, and the children were here only for the business of Jacqueline’s Hope and Jasmine had made sure that Rachel (and Simon, through Rachel) understood that.
“I’ll come, but only because of my charity.” Jasmine recalled the words she’d said on their last telephone call.
“I understand,” Rachel had responded.
“I’m serious. I don’t want to speak to or see your father.”
Rachel had paused before she said, “Jasmine, he’s your father, too.”
“If you don’t understand English, if you don’t understand my rules . . .”
“I understand!” Rachel had snapped. “I’m just saying, how are you going to be in the same city and not even say hello to him?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Jasmine had said in warning.
“Okay, okay. You’re only coming to open up Jacqueline’s Hope. Nothing more.”
“And you’ll pay all of our expenses.”
“What?” Rachel had shouted, sounding like she was about to pop a vein.
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