When he closed the door behind him, Jasmine breathed. Thank God she’d gotten out of that. Prayerfully that would be the last conversation she’d ever have to have about Simon Jackson.
A few minutes later, the door opened behind her and she turned around. She smiled when she saw her father-in-law, but he was not alone, and that took every bit of her joy away.
“What is he doing here?” she snapped, pointing to Simon.
“I had to come,” Simon said, taking a stiff step forward. “I couldn’t let you just go away. We have to talk.”
“Dad!” She pleaded with her father-in-law as if she expected Reverend Bush to rescue her from what she saw as madness.
But all Reverend Bush said was, “Just talk to him, Jasmine. Listen to what he has to say.” Then he gave Simon a soft tap on his back before he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Jasmine had never felt so deserted, so alone in her life.
“Why don’t you leave me alone?” she shouted. “You’re acting like a stalker.”
“I can’t just walk away. I know that’s what you want me to do, but I can’t. Not until we sit down. At least once.”
“Why are you trying to be my father when I don’t want to be your daughter?”
Simon flinched, but his head was still high when he asked, “Why would anyone be against speaking to their father, even once?”
“Because I don’t even know if you’re really my father.”
He looked at her, his eyes filled with pity.
“Really,” she continued. “I don’t know.”
“We had the test . . .”
“It didn’t come back that you were one hundred percent absolutely my father.”
“Jasmine . . .”
“And I never saw the test being done.”
He shook his head.
“And I have no idea who had their hands on them before the results got to me. They were delivered from the clinic to a courier and then to my concierge. And he didn’t even bring it up to me. He gave the envelope to Mae Frances.” Jasmine stopped. Mae Frances! The words in her head were jumbled, as if they were trying to find their way to making a single thought. But as the idea formulated in her mind, she calmed down. Her voice was more controlled now when she said, “Who knows what could have happened to that test since it was handled by so many people.”
“Are you serious?” Simon asked. “So you really think that the results could change just from the paper being handed from one person to another?”
“All I know is that I haven’t trusted those tests from the beginning,” she said, thinking that her words weren’t totally a lie. She never wanted to believe those results. “That’s why I never wanted to talk to you.” Before he could answer she said, “It’s because I don’t even know if you’re my father.” A beat, and then, “I don’t think that you are.”
He shook his head.
It was a full-fledged idea when she said, “Look, I’ll make a deal with you.”
His eyes brightened, as if he thought she was willing to give him a chance.
She said, “Let’s have another test.”
He frowned. “Why? We already know . . .”
“No, we don’t know. Let’s have another test and this time, let’s all be there, right there in the center when the results come back. So the results will just go from the technicians to us. Period.”
“You know this isn’t necessary. I can look at you and know . . .”
“That’s the deal,” Jasmine interrupted him. “Another test.”
After a moment, he said, “Fine. And if the tests come back that I am not your father, I will go away and never bother you again.”
“All right.”
“But”—he held up his finger—“if the test once again comes back that I am your father . . .”
“It won’t . . .”
“Then you have to sit down with me. Just once. And after that, I’ll let you make the decision about what kind of relationship you want to have with me. But just once, we’ll sit down and talk.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”
Jasmine looked at the hand hanging there, but she didn’t touch him. “Deal, Mr. Jackson.”
Once again, she watched as her words caused pain to spread across his face. But all he did was lower his hand and smile. Awkward seconds passed and Simon made a move as if he wanted to embrace her. But then, he stepped back.
“I’ll stay in New York until we have this done. Just call Rachel. Let us know where you want us to be and when.”
Jasmine nodded.
“I’ll be there,” he said. He waited another moment before he turned and walked out the door.
Jasmine felt like she was just taking her first breath when she was finally alone. But she didn’t give herself any time to recover. She snatched her cell from her purse and tapped Mae Frances’s name.
As the phone rang, Jasmine thanked God for this woman who was her friend. From the moment they’d met, Mae Frances had saved her from one crisis after the other. And this was going to be one of the most important ones.
When her friend answered, Jasmine said, “Mae Frances, I need a huge favor.”
“What is it now, Jasmine Larson?”
She took a breath. “Remember on the plane when I said I wish that I’d asked you to change those test results?”
“Yeeeeeaaaahhh,” she said, dragging out the word.
“I’m going to take the DNA test again to determine if Simon is my father.”
“Oh, Lawd!”
“And I need you to use your connections. I need the test to come back negative.”
“Simon Jackson is not going to fall for that. He’ll just make you take the test again and again and again.”
“I don’t care how many times I have to take it. You just have to make sure that it always comes back the way I want it.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“Mae Frances?” Jasmine finally said. “Please. Please, I need you like I’ve never needed you before.”
After more silence Mae Frances sighed. “Okay, Jasmine Larson. I got you. You know I always got you.”
“Thank you,” Jasmine said. And when she hung up, she’d never been more grateful for her friendship.
Chapter
31
Rachel
“She wants you to do what?” Rachel immediately lowered her voice, reminding herself that she was in this shi-shi poo-poo boutique hotel. Since she’d had a taste of the good life, Rachel didn’t do Holiday Inns anymore, and she took full advantage of the luxurious experiences every chance she got. She’d just returned from a full spa experience while Simon had gone back to Reverend Bush’s church. Rachel hadn’t held out much hope that Reverend Bush would make progress with Jasmine, but she’d never expected this.
“She wants me to take another test,” Simon repeated. “She didn’t trust the first one.”
Rachel didn’t know what kind of game Jasmine was playing, but another test was a complete and utter waste of time. “Daddy, that’s ridiculous. It’s just a stall tactic.”
“Whatever it is, if it makes her feel more at ease, I’m doing it.” The expression on Simon’s face told her no amount of protesting would change her father’s mind.
Rachel plopped down on the sofa in the suite that connected their adjoining rooms. Samuel Bush had called first thing this morning and told Simon to come to the church for lunch. He hadn’t said whether Jasmine would be there, but Rachel figured she would be. “I don’t know why you’re even entertaining this,” she added.
“Because I have to. And you said you understood that.” Simon removed his jacket and hung it in the hall closet.
“Fine. If you want to subject yourself to more heartache, then so be it.” Rachel reached for her cell phone, which was on the coffee table. “But just like she doesn’t trust us, I don’t trust her.”
“What are you doing?” Simon asked as she scrolled through the phone in search of Jasmine’s phone number.
Rachel stopped when she got to “Big Sis,” the name she’d changed Jasmine’s number to. She made a mental note to change it back to “Old Troll.” “I’m calling Jasmine.”
“Rachel, you’re not going to change my mind about this,” Simon warned.
Rachel held up a finger to cut her father off. “Hello, Jasmine?” Rachel said when Jasmine answered. “This is Rachel.”
“What, Rachel?” At that moment, it dawned on Rachel that Jasmine was always acting irritated with her. Why in the world did Rachel keep trying?
“My father told me you want to have another test,” Rachel said.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Why?”
“Not that I have to explain anything to you, but for all I know you could’ve tampered with the test.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was trying to do you a favor by inviting you into our family. But trust, now, I want that not to happen just as much as you do.”
“Then we’re in agreement.”
With every word she spoke, Rachel was reminded of why Jasmine had few friends. This woman was just evil and bitter.
“This isn’t about me, though. It’s about my dad. Our dad. You can test till the cows come home, but it’s not going to change that.”
“We’ll see.” There was cockiness in Jasmine’s voice, almost like she was sure of a different outcome. It gave Rachel pause.
Finally, she said, “Unh-unh, something isn’t right.”
“Rachel, I really don’t have time for your paranoia.”
“It’s not paranoia. I didn’t train as an investigative reporter for nothing.”
“I’m sorry, your three classes at community college hardly qualify as training.”
Rachel was fed up with Jasmine’s condescending attitude. “You know what, Jasmine? You think you’re too good to be a part of our family. Well, I’ve got news for you, you’re not. My family—from my daddy to my ratchet cousins—have more love in their pinky toe than you have in your whole body.”
“Are you finished?”
“Naw, we’ll be finished when we take the test again, prove you’re just a butthole, and give my daddy peace of mind.”
“Rachel!” Simon said.
Rachel stood and moved into the bedroom. She wanted to get away from her father and tell Jasmine how she really felt. “So, here’s the way this is going to go down. I’m picking the testing facility.”
“You picked it last time.”
“Well, I don’t trust you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“So, we’ll pick one together. I’ll call and schedule the test for tomorrow.”
“I want one that gives immediate results. I don’t want to drag this out any further than we have to,” Jasmine said.
“Fine by me. I’m ready to get out of this concrete jungle anyway.” Rachel reached over, grabbed her laptop, and logged on. “I’m googling DNA testing in New York City.” As soon as she typed in the search engine, several facilities popped up. “I should make you go to this one,” Rachel said, clicking on the first link. “ ‘Who Da Daddy.’ ”
“Girl, please.”
Any other time, Rachel would’ve laughed. “Fine. It looks like there are three that do instant results,” Rachel said, scanning the list. “I’m picking DNA Center in Queens.”
“Fine.”
She said that a little too fast. “No, make that Identigene in the Bronx,” Rachel corrected.
“Fine, Rachel. See if can you set it up for in the morning.”
It was settled. She’d call, pray they could get in, and get this over with. “Before I let you go, Jasmine, in all seriousness, what are you going to do when this test backs up the first one?”
“It won’t. I know in my heart Simon is not my father.”
Rachel was quiet for a moment. She was ready to get off the phone, but she had one more thing to say. “Do you know when I was growing up, my father made me so mad. He gave everything to his church and all I wanted was his love. It’s why I rebelled. It’s why I caused him major headaches. I just wanted his love. And when I got it, when he realized his little girl was truly hurting, he stepped up to the plate. And he’s shown me the power of a father’s love. I feel sorry that you’ll never know that.”
Jasmine hesitated, but then said, “I know a father’s love.”
“You don’t know my father’s love.” For the first time since they began this journey, Rachel didn’t feel inclined to refer to Simon as their father. If Jasmine didn’t want him, it was time to move on. “My dad isn’t trying to replace the man who raised you. He knows that man is your father. My father is just trying to add to your life.” She sighed, tired of the same argument. “I promise you, if the first test was wrong and you aren’t his daughter, I’ll make sure he stays out of your life. I’ll make sure we both do.”
Rachel wanted to add a “but . . . ,” but she didn’t really care anymore. In fact she hoped that the test came back negative. Then they could return to Houston and forget that they ever knew Jasmine Cox Larson Bush.
Chapter
32
Jasmine
Jasmine took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm. Really, she didn’t know why she was anxious. She’d made it through the week; there was nothing to be nervous about now. She’d climbed over every obstacle, dodged every bullet, broken through all the walls. But she was here, even though it didn’t seem that way when she and Mae Frances had met to discuss the plan.
“You want to have the test where?” Mae Frances had asked when Jasmine told her which clinic Rachel had chosen. “And why in the world would you let Rasheeda pick out where this would be done?”
“Because I didn’t want her to think I was trying to pull a fast one.”
“You are trying to pull a fast one and you need me to do it. I don’t know anyone at that clinic.” Mae Frances had shaken her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this, Jasmine Larson.”
Jasmine had felt her blood pressure rising. “What do you mean?” She didn’t understand what Mae Frances could possibly be saying—that she couldn’t help her? There had never been a time when Mae Frances hadn’t rescued Jasmine. “You’ve got to do this, Mae Frances.”
“I’ll try; let’s just hope I can deliver.”
So for the next few days, Jasmine had had to dance, giving Rachel one excuse after another for why they couldn’t take the test right away.
“You’re just stalling,” Rachel had protested.
She was right, but couldn’t prove it. And Rachel didn’t press too much since Jasmine kept using her children as an excuse—Jacqueline was home with a cold, Zaya had to have an emergency dental procedure. And the whole time, Jasmine had been patient until Mae Frances had found a connection who knew a connection who had a connection.
And the plan was set in motion.
But that didn’t end Jasmine’s angst. Because even once Mae Frances had told her connection what she needed, she still tried to convince Jasmine that this was one hookup that was wrong.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” she kept telling Jasmine. “No matter what we make the test say, Simon is still going to be your father.”
“He won’t know that.”
“But you will. Can you sleep knowing what you’re doing?”
“I’ve been sleeping just fine all these years.”
“All right,” Mae Frances had finally agreed, though it felt to Jasmine that Mae Frances was just giving up.
Now, they sat in the waiting room of the clinic with Jasmine shoulder-to-shoulder with her human savior. And the two of them sat across from Rachel and Simon.
This was the first time Jasmine noticed just how much Rachel looked like her father, though right now there was little that was similar about them. Simon sat, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, wearing that smile. That same smile he had on his face whenever he looked at her. That smile that never went away except for when she ca
lled him Mr. Jackson.
Right next to him, Rachel sat, glaring at Jasmine like she had never hated her so much. And that was quite a feat since over the years the two had known each other they’d shared many moments of hate.
That part hurt Jasmine’s heart just a little. Not that she wanted to be Rachel’s sister, but she’d kind of grown fond of her. And except for that trick Rachel had pulled dragging her to the church when they were in Smackover two weeks ago, Rachel had treated her. Rachel had handled her with a porcelain kind of care, as if she understood what Jasmine had been going through. She hadn’t tried to push her, at least not too much. And Jasmine really appreciated that.
But it was better this way, with all ties broken. She couldn’t ever see herself forming any kind of friendship with that girl anyway. Because Rachel wasn’t anything more than a country-ghetto superstar who’d been able to clean herself up a little bit with some money. But class was bred, not bought, and Rachel would never be able to rise to Jasmine’s level. If she’d had any doubts about that before, Jasmine knew that for a fact after having spent time in Arkansas.
“Jasmine Larson, would you calm down?” Mae Frances whispered.
“What?”
She tapped Jasmine’s leg and only then did Jasmine realize how much she’d been shaking. Uncrossing her legs, she smoothed out her skirt and tried to inhale peace.
Still she leaned forward, and using her hand to cover her mouth, she whispered, “You’re sure everything is taken care of, right?”
Mae Frances stared at Jasmine for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “You must’ve forgotten who I am,” she grumbled.
“Okay.” Jasmine sat up, satisfied. All she had to do now was wait. Though waiting was the hardest part. She just wanted these results so that they could all go home—Jasmine back to the luxury that was her life and Simon and Rachel back to the deepest part of Texas.
The door to the back offices opened and all four of them looked up. “Mr. Jackson,” the woman in the white lab coat said.
Though only one of them carried that name, all four jumped up and said, “Yes.”
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