A Blessing & a Curse

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A Blessing & a Curse Page 15

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley


  The look in Hosea’s eyes said everything without him saying anything.

  “So, she’s not coming?” Rachel asked. In her heart she already knew the answer to that question.

  Hosea shook his head. “She needs more time.” He and the children had just walked out to her SUV. The kids were so excited, oblivious to the tension surrounding them. “But we’re going and we’re anxious to meet everyone.”

  Rachel contemplated saying more, going in there and demanding that Jasmine get it together and come on, but Hosea was right. It wasn’t time. Trying to force anything more would only backfire.

  “Well,” Rachel said, forcing a smile as she held the back door open for Jacqueline and Zaya. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  “Yay!” Jacqueline said as she and her brother crawled into the backseat.

  “Wait!”

  The front door of the hotel slid open and Mae Frances scurried out. “Y’all not about to leave me.”

  Hosea had just opened the passenger door. “I thought you’d changed your mind, Mae Frances.”

  “And why would you think that?” she said, pushing him aside and getting in the front seat. “I didn’t come all the way to this godforsaken town to sit up in these luxury accommodations.”

  Rachel smiled as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “Mae Frances, it’s July. Why do you have on that coat?”

  “I’m not leaving my mink in this hotel.” Mae Frances pulled it tighter around her.

  Rachel wanted to tell her that nobody wanted that tattered old chinchilla, but instead she just said, “Okay, whatever.”

  A few minutes later, they were pulling up to Ruby’s house. More relatives had gathered and Wanda had pulled her ’78 Cutlass onto the grass, lowered all the windows, and set the music blaring. Simon was sitting on the porch with his nieces and nephews. They were all laughing as Nia, Jordan, and several of the other children danced to Michael Jackson songs. Rachel chuckled at the sight. Maybe it was best Jasmine didn’t come this evening; she would’ve had a field day with this. She wouldn’t have been able to see that beneath the “outrageousness,” the over-the-top antics, this was a place rooted in love. This, her family, is what really mattered in life.

  Jacqueline was the first one out of the car and Rachel’s daughter, Nia, spotted her immediately. Nia raced over and the two hugged like they were long-lost friends.

  “Well, if it isn’t the great Hosea Bush,” Simon said after they had gotten out of the truck. He stood to shake Hosea’s hand. “So glad to see you again.”

  “Likewise,” Hosea said. “Hi, everyone,” he added, waving to all the people who sat around the porch.

  Simon’s eyes made their way down to the little boy who stood nervously next to Hosea. “Hi,” he said softly, kneeling in front of Zaya. “My name is Simon Jackson. I’m . . .”

  “Thrilled to meet you,” Rachel said, quickly jumping in. Jasmine would have a straight conniption if Simon told these kids he was their grandfather without her permission.

  “Dad, this is Zaya.” She motioned for Jacqueline to come over. “And this is Jacquie.”

  “Hi,” both children said at the same time.

  “Pawpaw, can they go fishing with us?” Nia asked. She was holding on to Jacquie’s hand like she was scared to let her go. “My cousin Teeny is about to take us,” Nia told Jacqueline. “He said he’s gonna show us how to put a worm on a hook and everything.”

  “A worm, ewww,” Jacquie said.

  “I wanna touch a worm!” Zaya added.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to touch the worm if you don’t wanna,” Nia told Jacqueline.

  All three children turned to Hosea.

  “Daddy, can we go? Please?” Jacquie said.

  “Ooh, fishing?” Hosea said, worry lines etched across his face.

  “They’ll be fine. They’re just going up to Calhoun Creek,” Simon said. “We don’t have enough fish for tonight, so my nephew is gonna go try to catch some more. They won’t be more than an hour.”

  “Please, Daddy?” Jacquie said.

  Hosea sighed, but then could barely get his “yes” out before all the kids took off to go find Teeny.

  “He’s going to catch some more fish? Why don’t you just go to the fish market?” Everyone turned to Mae Frances, who had been standing quietly off to the side.

  “My apologies,” Simon said, turning to shake her hand. “You must be Mae Frances. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Mae Frances cut her eyes at Rachel. “Lies. It’s all lies.”

  Simon laughed. “Well, welcome to Smackover. And to answer your question, we don’t have any fish markets around this place.” Suddenly it must’ve dawned on Simon that one key person was missing. He peered toward the SUV, like he expected Jasmine to still be sitting inside. “Where’s Jasmine?”

  “She’s not feeling well,” Hosea said. “The trip wore her out.”

  Rachel looked up to see Aunt Minnie peering out of the screen door. She shook her head, patted her breast where the keys were, then turned around and went back inside.

  Simon looked like he was about to say something else when a loud honking caught their attention. A red pickup truck swung into the driveway, spinning dirt everywhere.

  Rachel fanned away the clouds of dirt as her great-uncle Bubba jumped out. He was the patriarch of the family, the last living sibling of Simon Jackson’s parents. And even though he just turned eighty yesterday, he showed no signs of slowing down.

  “The party can get started now because I’m here,” Bubba said, laughing in his hearty voice. He had on his signature overalls and dusty white T-shirt, which hung on his bony frame.

  “Uncle Bubba, you know you’re not supposed to be driving,” Simon said.

  “When they pry my keys from my cold, dead hands, I’ll stop driving.”

  Simon shook his head before turning to Hosea. “This is my uncle, Bubba.”

  Hosea extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Where do I know you from?” Bubba asked, studying him.

  “He’s a well-known preacher,” Simon replied.

  Bubba snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right. My Eleanor used to watch you every Sunday morning. God rest her soul. What brings you round here to these par . . .” Bubba’s words trailed off when he noticed Mae Frances standing behind Hosea. “Well, Lord be a circus and hand me a clown.” He licked his lips, patted both sides of his gray Afro, shined the bald spot in the middle of his head, and stepped over to Mae Frances. “The Lord must’ve taken me early, cuz I gots to be in Heaven. Who is this beautiful thing here?” He took her hand and kissed it. “I know I’m eighty, but all my parts are in working order.”

  Mae Frances snatched her hand away, like she couldn’t believe he had the nerve to touch her.

  “Uncle Bubba, this is Mae Frances,” Rachel said.

  His eyes roamed up and down her body. Rachel knew Uncle Bubba still had 20/20 vision, but surely he was losing his eyesight if Mae Frances was turning him on.

  “Please, please tell me you ain’t family,” he said.

  “No, I’m a friend of the Bushes.”

  “Well, I don’t know who the Bushes is, but I got a few bushes I’d like to go have a conversation with you in.”

  “Uncle Bubba!” Simon said, appalled.

  Several relatives who overheard him cracked up. Rachel just shook her head.

  “Shoot, I’m too old to sugarcoat,” Bubba said, flashing a toothy grin at Mae Frances.

  “Uncle Bubba, would you go on somewhere?” Simon said. “You’re going to have this woman thinking we’re country.”

  “We are. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed about.” He smiled, his pride evident. “See, that’s the thang about folks. They move on to the next phase of their lives and they try to forget their roots. They become citified and want to snub the very foundation that made them who they are.” He looked over at Rachel and winked. “But it’s all good, the Good Lord is keeping Uncle Bubba around to rem
ind them.”

  It was at that moment that Rachel noticed Big Junior ease up next to Mae Frances. “Is that real mink?” he asked.

  “Umm, yes,” she said, pulling her coat tighter.

  “How much is it worth?”

  “Nothing,” Rachel said, pushing her cousin away. “Mae Frances, I know you’ve got to be burning up. Let me take your coat.”

  Mae Frances looked around. “It is hot. But I’ll hang on to it,” she said, sliding the coat off and draping it across her arm.

  The screen door swung open and Ruby stepped out. “Hi, I’m Ruby,” she said, introducing herself to Hosea and Mae Frances. “My sister Minnie is in the kitchen. Why don’t you come inside and sit and chat?” she told Mae Frances.

  To Rachel’s surprise, Mae Frances followed Ruby inside with no protest. Probably just so she could get away from Uncle Bubba.

  “Bye, sweetness. You and I will talk later. That’s a promise!” Bubba called out after her.

  “Uncle Bubba, can you behave yourself?” Rachel asked.

  “Shoot, why start now?” He motioned toward Sky, who was sitting at a card table with some other relatives. “Sky, can you come down off that cloud and get this stuff out the back of my truck? Big Junior, Little Willie, come help him.”

  Rachel watched as her cousins begrudgingly got up and made their way over to the truck, where they started removing coolers and other supplies.

  “And hand me my Brut cologne off the front seat,” Bubba said.

  “This?” Little Willie asked, holding up a small white bottle.

  “Yep,” Bubba replied, taking the bottle and dousing himself in the putrid-smelling cologne. “I gots to go get that woman.” He pointed toward the front door.

  “And you think that cologne is gonna help you?” Little Willie asked.

  “Boy, what you know about women? Your woman left you because you can’t cross state lines ’cause of that thing on your leg.” Bubba pointed to the electronic monitoring bracelet on Little Willie’s leg. After one too many DUI arrests, he was being forced to wear an ankle bracelet for the next year. It was a sensitive subject for Willie, but Uncle Bubba didn’t seem to care. “I wrote the handbook on snagging a woman. Watch and learn, little grasshopper. Watch and learn.”

  Uncle Bubba disappeared inside and Simon turned to Hosea.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  Hosea nodded and they stepped off to the side. Rachel stepped right with them. She wasn’t about to let them go at this alone.

  “Hosea, I just don’t understand why Jasmine won’t come,” Simon said, ignoring Rachel standing next to him.

  Hosea released a heavy sigh. “You have to understand, this is very hard on her. She’s feeling like everything she’s known is a lie.” He paused, like he was deciding just how much he wanted to say. Finally he said, “And, well, she has some issues with you as well.”

  “Me? What kind of issues?”

  “You’ll have to talk to her.”

  “How can I do that if she doesn’t want to see me?” Simon replied. “Please. How can I get through to her if I don’t understand the root of her refusal to see me?”

  “It’s not that she’s refusing. This is just a lot. And, well, she doesn’t understand how you could’ve abandoned her mother,” Hosea finally said.

  “Abandoned?” Simon said, getting worked up. “I would’ve never abandoned Doris. I didn’t know she was pregnant. I would’ve never abandoned my child.”

  “Okay,” Hosea said, trying to calm Simon down. “Maybe you two will get a chance to talk.”

  “We sure will because I’m about to go to the hotel right now!”

  “No, you’re not,” Hosea said, gently placing his hand on Simon’s forearm. “Reverend Jackson, you know I respect you, but my wife isn’t ready, okay? You can talk to her tomorrow.” His voice was calm and soothing and he seemed to settle Simon down. “Let’s you and me talk some more and get to know each other.”

  Simon looked to Rachel and she nodded. She was glad Hosea was the man he was, because if it had just been her, there’s no way she would’ve been able to stop her father from going down to the Super 8 and knocking on every door until he found Jasmine.

  Simon relaxed but added, “Jasmine has to know, if I had known about her, I would’ve found her mother. And I would’ve married her.”

  Now, that was a dagger through Rachel’s heart. Because if he had found Jasmine’s mother, then Rachel would never be here.

  “It’s okay,” Hosea said. “God worked it out just the way He was supposed to.” He looked over at Rachel. “God knew that you and your wife needed to create this beautiful legacy. And tomorrow, maybe God will allow you to have a conversation with Jasmine and open the door to expand that Jackson legacy.”

  Rachel could only hope that it would be as easy as that.

  And then Rachel got an idea. She knew exactly what to do. She only prayed that it would work.

  Chapter

  23

  Jasmine

  “You’re kidding me!” Jasmine exclaimed. “This is where we’re eating?”

  “What else do you want us to do?” Hosea asked. “We didn’t rent a car, the kids have to have breakfast.” Hosea glanced to the left and then to the right. “This is the only place to eat that’s close enough to walk. And you need to eat, too. You haven’t had anything since yesterday afternoon. And with the opening of Jacqueline’s Hope today, you need your strength.”

  And I’ll starve for a few more hours if I have to eat here.

  But even though those were her thoughts, she followed a bouncing Zaya and Jacqueline into the Waffle House. The moment she stepped inside, she scrunched up her nose.

  What is that smell?

  Then she heard the crackling sounds from the kitchen, which appeared to be in the open right behind the counter. And she knew the smell—that was nothing but grease.

  She shuddered.

  “Let’s sit over there,” Jacqueline said, pointing to the only empty booth across the room.

  “No, we have to wait for the hostess to seat us,” Jasmine said.

  “Oh, y’all don’t have to wait!” a woman standing behind the counter shouted out. “Ain’t no hostess here, just seat yourself.” She waved them inside.

  The woman had barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Zaya dashed to the vacant booth. Jasmine slid onto the hard seat next to her son while Jacqueline and Hosea sat across from them.

  Jasmine glanced around at this place that she could only think of as a dive. Even though they were in the Deep South (at least deep to Jasmine), this diner seemed to be no respecter of persons. All kinds of folks filled the seats: black and white, young and old, some sitting together at the counter, all seeming to enjoy their fat-filled meals of waffles, eggs, and sausages.

  “It smells good in here!” Jacqueline said, taking an extra-deep breath like she was inhaling the finest perfume.

  “Yeah!” Zaya chirped.

  “How y’all doing today?” The woman who had greeted them at the door slapped four plastic-covered menus onto the table.

  “We’re blessed,” Hosea said.

  “Hmph,” the lady said. “I can see that. Y’all here with all your fancy clothes.”

  Fancy clothes? Jasmine took a quick glance down at the jeans and rhinestone-studded T-shirt she was wearing. There was nothing fancy about what she had on, nothing fancy about what any of them were wearing. All four of the Bushes were in jeans.

  “Where y’all from?” the woman asked.

  “New York,” Hosea answered.

  Jasmine picked up the menu, glad that her husband was doing all the talking because she wouldn’t have been so gracious. The next words out of her mouth would’ve been “Mind your business.” And since this lady would be serving them their food, Jasmine kept that thought to herself.

  “Oh, New York,” the lady said as if she were impressed. “I ain’t neva been there, but I’m hoping to go up there one day. I got a cousin, Butch
, who’s up there working on Broadway.”

  “Oh, is he an actor?”

  “Nah!” She laughed. “Butch ain’t a he. Her real name is Gertrude, but she’s up there in New York working in one of them fancy restaurants on Broadway. Anyway, I hope to get up there once she sends me money for a bus ticket. It’s been something like seven years now, but she made a promise, so . . .”

  Why is she still talking?

  “So, what y’all doing in Smackover? Y’all visiting your people?”

  “No!” Jasmine said, uttering her first word. “We’re here on business.”

  “Business?” She laughed. “Smackover ain’t got no business.” Then, with a side-eye glance, she whispered, “Unless y’all into pharmaceutical sales.”

  Hosea chuckled, but Jasmine’s eyes widened. “You know, all you need to do is take our order,” she said, forgetting all about the fact that this woman was in control of their food. “We don’t need all this extra conversation.”

  “And you don’t need to talk to me like that.” The woman looked to be in her fifties, maybe even sixties. But she rolled her neck like she was twenty-five.

  “You know what? May I speak with your supervisor, please?”

  “Jasmine,” Hosea said, placing his hand over hers.

  “No, this two-dollar-an-hour chick needs to learn—”

  “Who you calling two-dollar-an-hour? I make more than that. I get tips, you know! And you just need to—”

  “I apologize for my wife,” Hosea said, giving Jasmine a stare, then turning to the waitress with a smile. “Just give us a few minutes and we’ll be ready to order.”

  The waitress glanced at Jasmine and waited for her to look up before she rolled her eyes (like she was twenty-five) and stepped away.

  When Hosea stared at Jasmine as if she’d done something wrong, it was her turn to roll her eyes.

  She didn’t care what Hosea thought. He should have been more concerned with the way that woman had insulted them. Pharmaceutical sales? Really?

  “Okay, let’s order our food,” Hosea said, more to the children than Jasmine.

  But when he finally did look over at her and asked, “What do you want to have?” she just shrugged.

 

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