The Other Side of Goodness

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “You keep telling our children it’s about serving others, but then you don’t walk the talk,” Deidra had said. “You tell folks how much of a Christian you are, deacon at our church, but is your life demonstrating God’s love? Lawrence, how much more is it really going to cost you to allow that child, and, yes, she’s still a child just like Paris is still our child even though she’s almost eighteen and all grown up. What more, Lawrence Rudolph Simmons, will it cost you if that child stays there with Paris until she can get on her feet?”

  Lawrence knew Deidra was right. And she’d used his full name, which meant she was a bit put out with him about this. The young woman indeed needed somewhere to stay. And it was a two-bedroom apartment. What harm would it do to allow Paris to share it with a friend in need? That’s what Christians do, right? And Deidra was indeed a good Christian, more Christian than him as he was still a devout WIP—Work in Progress.

  Lawrence had met Deidra Jean Long back when they were in college. He absolutely noticed her, but she didn’t appear impressed by anything about him. He was tall and athletic; some folks expected him to end up playing professional basketball. She was short and petite, a book worm who most felt was going to make the most wonderful teacher. After Lawrence was able to convince her to go out with him one time, more on a dare, they discovered that they were practically made for each other. He’d never before been so impressed with a girl.

  “Smitten” is what his grandmother had called him. “Sprung” was the word most of his guy friends used.

  Deidra was not only brilliantly smart, but when she let down her hair from the old-fogey chignon or single French braid down the back and removed those old-fashioned black-plastic-rimmed glasses, she was knockout gorgeous. Every guy was trying to get after her then. But by then, it was Lawrence who had captured her heart.

  The two of them married straight out of college. And before they could even get settled as man and wife, nine months later Paris Elizabeth Simmons made her entrance, screaming onto the scene. And she’d continued to scream for attention ever since.

  Lawrence was already fascinated with politics in his high school and college days, where he was on the student council. There was just something about feeling like you could effect change from the inside out that interested him. He wanted to be the one to possibly make someone’s life better. He knew what it was to struggle. He knew what it was to try to find a way to first get into college, then to make it all the way through. His family had neither the money nor the means to send him. So he had worked hard for everything he’d gotten. If he went into politics, he felt he could bring some ideas that might make the next generation’s life a little better than his.

  But power can corrupt. It was like a shiny object being dangled before you to take your focus off what you were intending to do. And that’s where Deidra came in the most with Lawrence. She was the one person who could bring him back to earth when he started getting too far out there. And as much as there were times Deidra really got on his nerves, he loved her for keeping it real with him, or as the young folks would say, “Keeping it one hundred.”

  Paris had befriended Gabrielle a little over nine years ago. Now here Gabrielle sat before him telling him that his daughter was in trouble. But he’d just seen Paris yesterday at her house. And Paris talked to her mother pretty much every single day. So how would someone like Gabrielle know she was in trouble when none of them had heard anything about it?

  Lawrence politely smiled at Gabrielle. A smile tended to soften the words when you were essentially about to call someone a liar. “I didn’t know you and Paris were still talking, let alone still friends,” he said.

  “Paris?” Gabrielle said. “I haven’t seen or spoken to Paris in over nine years. Not since that day she told me to get out of her apartment and never come back.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lawrence said. “I thought perhaps you two had talked. So how do you know Paris is in trouble?”

  “It’s not Paris that’s in trouble,” Gabrielle said, adjusting her body better in her chair.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure you can’t be talking about my daughter Imani. That girl practically runs from trouble. When she sees trouble coming, she turns and sprints in another direction.”

  “I’m not talking about Imani, either.” Gabrielle swallowed hard. “The daughter I’m speaking of that’s in trouble, the one who desperately needs your help or she’s going to die . . . is my and your child. I’m talking about Jasmine . . . essentially, our daughter.”

  Chapter 5

  That I might make thee know the certainty of the words of truth; that thou mightest answer the words of truth to them that send unto thee?

  —Proverbs 22:21

  Lawrence began to shake his head. “So that’s how you’re going to play this, I see. Okay, who sent you?”

  Gabrielle frowned. “What?”

  “I want to know who put you up to these shenanigans.” Lawrence stood up. “Who sent you here and how much are you being paid?”

  “Nobody sent me and nobody is paying me to come here,” Gabrielle said, standing now as well.

  Lawrence walked around his desk to her. “Is someone threatening you or something? Does someone have something over your head and that’s why you’re here doing this? Is it about money? Do you need money that bad that you would come here and lie like this?” He was standing right in front of her face now. “Tell me why you’re here spewing this nonsense!”

  “If you’ll go back and sit down, I’ll calmly explain everything. Look: We don’t have too much more time left. And we really don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

  “What is this ‘we’ business? I’m not in whatever little scheme you’re cooking up here. Do you have a recording device on you or something? Is that why you’re in here lying?” He nodded. “You’re just trying to set me up so you can take something to my opponent. I get it. I say something here and you leak selective parts to the media to make things appear like there is something going on when it’s not.”

  “Lawrence, please. Go back and sit down and let me explain. I promise this will all make sense when I’m finished.”

  “No. What I want is for you to get out of my office.” He pointed at the door. “Now! Or I’ll call someone to escort you out!”

  Gabrielle could see just how angry he was getting. She’d seen him like this once before. The day she’d told him that she was pregnant and she didn’t want the abortion he told her to have. He’d reacted almost the same way he was acting now. But she wasn’t that scared little eighteen-year-old who didn’t have a clue of what to do. And this wasn’t about her. It was about an eight-year-old little girl who possibly wouldn’t see nine if Gabrielle didn’t succeed in doing what she could to help her.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” Lawrence was leaning in even closer now. “I told you to get out! Now if you force me to have to call someone, I’m prepared to do just that!”

  “Not until you hear what I have to say!” Gabrielle shouted back, causing him to take a step back away from her. “And I’m not going to stop until you know everything. So I can tell it to you here, behind closed doors, with just me and you. Or I can tell it to the world. But I will tell it! And I will be heard! It’s that important. Now, go take your seat and hear me out. Or stand if you like. At this point, I don’t care.”

  Lawrence stood with a clenched left fist. To Gabrielle, it appeared not so much that he wanted to hit her, but more like he was using his balled-up hand to hold on to something he felt he was losing.

  Gabrielle acted like she wasn’t afraid at this point, but inside she was trembling. “Are you going to sit down, and we talk rationally without the yelling and screaming, or what?” Gabrielle tried hard to keep the corners of her mouth from quivering. “I’m sure you don’t want to be the cause of anyone overhearing us on the other side of that door.”

  Lawrence nodded, sat back down in his oversized leather chair, and stared hard at her. “All right. Say what you have to
say.”

  Gabrielle eased down into her chair. She placed one hand over her face. This was much harder than she’d thought it would be, but this had to be done. She took her hand down and released a sigh. “Do you remember those last few times you and I saw each other?”

  “Yes. So we don’t have to bother going over that again,” Lawrence said.

  “Yes, we do. I told you that I was pregnant.”

  “Yeah, and I told you that I didn’t believe that even if you were, the baby was mine,” Lawrence said.

  Gabrielle couldn’t believe, even after all these years, how much it still hurt that he’d said that. She held her head up and looked boldly right back at him. “Well, whether you believed it or not, I was pregnant, and it was by you.”

  Lawrence’s grin now was slightly sinister. “The operative word being ‘was,’ ” he said. “Because the last time I saw you, I gave you money to . . . take care of it. I never actually admitted to being the father of your baby. But I was gracious enough to give you enough money to help you during that time of need. And this”—he sucked in air as he raised a fist into the air before slowly releasing his breath as he gently brought his fist down and allowed it to rest on his desk—“this is how you repay me and my family’s, both Paris’s and my, kindness shown to you.”

  “Lawrence, please don’t attempt to rewrite history. Yes, Paris was nice enough to let me come and stay with her. But if you want to know the real reason why she did it, it was mainly because she wanted someone to keep the apartment clean without having to pay them to wash her clothes and cook, which honestly, for me, was no different from where I’d left. So, no, I didn’t mind. And I didn’t have and never have had a problem with paying my way, which is precisely why, as hard as it was to get it, I also paid her half the rent those two and a half months I stayed there.”

  “Actually, my daughter had pity on you and was trying to do something noble for someone who obviously is nothing more than a scam artist trying to get over on anyone foolish enough to fall for your sob story. You see I know for a fact that Paris didn’t take one thin dime from you for rent. And you know why? Because I paid the rent and all of the utility bills and for all of the groceries there. So my daughter wasn’t in need of any help from you, not when it came to paying any of the bills over there.”

  “Listen, Lawrence, I didn’t come here to discuss or rehash what may or may not have gone down between me and Paris.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. You came to try and take me down or shake me down with your deceit and, otherwise, lies.”

  Gabrielle laughed. “You want to talk about deceit and lies. Do you really want to go there with me?” She pulled her body back and set her face hard. “I’m talking about you now. You know Mr. Blissfully Married, Proud Father of Three, Servant of the People, Deacon of the Church Simmons. A man of virtue and integrity who thought it was all right to sweet-talk, then sleep with an eighteen-year-old girl. Oh, let’s just come totally correct here: a just-turned eighteen-year-old girl who, as far as you knew or was concerned, was friends with your then eighteen-year-old daughter. And let me remind you that this was not once, not twice, but three times. So you can’t say it was something that just happened in the moment. Those next two times were deliberate.”

  Lawrence let his head drop slightly before looking up and pressing his hands to his face. He removed his hands. “I was wrong. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Is that why you’re sitting there saying all this other stuff about some child that you know is not true?”

  “Wait? Are you talking about the baby I was carrying that you claim couldn’t possibly be yours? You know, the baby that caused you to call me out of my name because you were sure I had to be sleeping around, which, as I told you back then, I was not. I was a virgin, and you know that.”

  “All right. I was wrong to have said those things to you as well.”

  “Lawrence, I didn’t come here to torture you or to try and get you to apologize to me. I let go of all that a long time ago,” Gabrielle said. “And I truly forgave you after I gave all of my hurts over to the Lord after giving Him my life.”

  “So you’re telling me that you’re a Christian now?”

  “Yes, I am a Christian. I am a follower of Jesus.”

  Lawrence smiled. “That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. Welcome to the family of Christ. I guess that makes us sisters and brothers now.”

  Gabrielle nodded one time. But she wasn’t finished with the conversation they were already having; she wasn’t going to let him skillfully change the subject. “You gave me money to get an abortion. I didn’t ask you for any money to do that.”

  “I know you didn’t. But I felt it was the least I could do to help out.”

  Gabrielle let out a single laugh, but not because anything was funny. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. How were you going to provide for a baby? You could barely provide for yourself. And other than at my daughter’s at the time, you didn’t even have a place to live. What on earth would you have to give a helpless baby? So you did what was best for you and the baby and got rid of it. I’m aware as a Christian, it doesn’t seem right. But it was the humane thing to do . . . for both of you.”

  Gabrielle shook her head. “You know, you really are a piece of work. And you want to boast about how you’re pro-life working to protect the unborn.”

  “My past is my past. What I did or believed in the past is not where I am now. From a pro-life standpoint, yes, I was wrong to have aided you in destroying a life. But my views have changed since that time. I’m a fighter of life.”

  “Well, you know what? I’m glad to hear you are now ‘a fighter of life.’ Because that’s what I’m doing in your office right this minute: I’m fighting for a life that’s not had a real chance to live very much yet. Lawrence, I didn’t have the abortion,” Gabrielle said. “Aren’t you proud of me? Even as a sinner, without knowing how or why, I made the right decision. I let our baby live.”

  Lawrence stood up, placed both fists on the desk, and leaned on them as he spoke through tightly clenched teeth. “Stop . . . saying . . . our . . . baby!”

  “What? You don’t want to hear about the baby I didn’t abort?”

  He shook his head, then stood back straight.

  Gabrielle stood up. “I had the baby, Lawrence—a little girl. And I got to hold her for a few minutes before a woman came in and took her away. I gave her up for adoption, Lawrence.”

  For the first time since Gabrielle began this part of the conversation, the corners of Lawrence’s mouth turned up into a slight smile. “So you’re telling me that you didn’t have the abortion and that you gave your child up for adoption?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it sounds like everything worked out,” he said. “So why are you here putting me through all of this?”

  Gabrielle eased back down and swallowed hard a few times. “Because our child, the child that you and I created together, needs a bone marrow transplant or she’s going to . . . die.”

  “What?” Lawrence flopped down. “A bone marrow transplant? Or she’ll die?”

  “Yes, Lawrence. When I decided to have her and give her up to be adopted, I moved on with no intentions of looking back. Yes, I’ve made some bad decisions along the way, but I’ve also made some good ones.”

  “Well, that would apply to all of us,” Lawrence said with humanness.

  “Yeah.” Gabrielle looked down, then up at Lawrence. “I won’t go into each and every detail here. Earlier this year, I received a call from the adoptive mother.”

  “Does she know about me?”

  “No. I’ve not told anyone about you. They tested me to see if I was a match to be a donor.”

  Lawrence looked into Gabrielle’s eyes. “Were you?”

  Gabrielle wiped her eyes as tears began to fall. “I wasn’t. That’s why I had to come find you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  Lawrence leaned over and handed her the handk
erchief he kept in his suit coat pocket. Gabrielle wiped her eyes. “So what are you wanting from me?”

  “A blood relative has a better chance of being a match in this case.”

  “So you’re asking me to see if I’m a possible match?”

  Gabrielle dabbed at her eyes. When she saw that his handkerchief had his last name embroidered on it (not just his initials as most do), she almost laughed. “Yes. I’m asking you to see if you’re a match. The medical personnel and adoptive mother have things set up so that no one will know who the donor is, if that’s what one prefers.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, I suppose. Giving who I am, the last thing I need is for something like this to get out. My political opponents could bury me alive with this information—the fact that I could have a child outside of my marriage.”

  “Not could . . . technically speaking, you do.”

  “According to you,” Lawrence said.

  “You know what, Lawrence? You are more than welcome to have a paternity test done. In fact, I would welcome it. If you like, I can even have it initiated.”

  Lawrence stared hard at her. “You would do something like that, knowing how it might affect my political career?”

  “Lawrence, there’s an eight-year-old little girl who, in about four months, will turn nine. That’s if she gets the bone marrow transplant she desperately needs to make it to nine. We’re talking about her life. Do you get that at all? I know it was your intent for me to get rid of her before she got here. Well, I didn’t. And she’s here now. So if you think for one minute that I care more about your political career than the life of that child . . .” Gabrielle shook her head slowly as she smiled and frowned at the same time.

  “Lawrence, I’m going to tell you something. There was a time in my life when I wasn’t saved. That person didn’t always do the right thing. She wanted to be nice to everybody but quickly learned not everyone out there played by those same rules. What you’re looking at right now is the other side of Goodness.” She was somewhat making a play on the name of Goodness and Mercy she’d once gone by. “Please don’t make me have to go back. Because I’ll tell you, on that other side, I learned how to fight and fight dirty if I had to. And I will fight if I have to, when it comes to this little girl’s life, I promise you: I’ll fight if forced. Don’t force me to have to go to the other side.”