The Other Side of Goodness

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Getting to meet Jasmine had been much easier than Paris thought it would be. She’d called the facility to see if it was all right for the patient to have visitors at this time, giving the impression that she was someone close to the family. The woman who answered confirmed that Jasmine was indeed still there and receiving visitors.

  Imani had told Paris how her father didn’t want her going to meet the girl she’d been the donor for. He’d said they would see how things progressed and would possibly see about arranging a meeting at the end of the year. Paris saw how much this was hurting and frustrating Imani. But honestly, that wasn’t the reason she had decided to do this.

  Paris wanted to see the child that had moved her father to step out in the way he had done for her. She wanted to know who this little girl was and, more specifically, what she looked like up close. She wanted to meet the mother of this child to see if this was someone her father possibly had an affair with, ultimately producing an offspring that no one, other than the two of them, knew about.

  Darius had told her what he’d heard on this situation. She and Darius had sort of set her father up. And her father had pretty much confirmed, as far as she was concerned, that something was going on. Paris just couldn’t understand why her mother never questioned stuff the way that she did. Surely her mother had to hear what people were saying. Her mother had to know that it was at least possible that her husband, Paris’s father, might not have always been faithful to his wife.

  Of course, in her own world, she never thought Andrew would actually cheat on her, either. But she also knew: She would never say never. In the world she lived in, anybody and everybody were always suspect. During the height of an argument once, Malachi had told her that was a sad way to live—to never be able to trust anyone completely.

  But Malachi was proof positive of what she was saying. Her suave, debonair, and most charming brother was flimflamming women left and right. Women believing they were the only one . . . his “main squeeze” (as her father would teasingly say in his old-school vernacular way), only to learn that they weren’t. So, if her own father would cheat on her mother, and her clean-cut, church-going brother would cheat (although cheat was the wrong word to use in Malachi’s case since he hadn’t actually made a vow to anyone yet), then Andrew would certainly cheat if the right woman came along.

  So when she told Imani she’d take her to meet the girl whose life she’d saved by choosing to be her bone marrow donor (fully aware that it was going against both her mother and father’s wishes), she really hadn’t expected to, once again, run into Gabrielle and her little doctor friend. But there Gabrielle was, hovering and protecting, just like she was the girl’s mother or something. But Paris knew that wasn’t the case. The mother’s name was listed on the information Paris had located. Her name was Jessica Noble, a forty-nine-year-old widow.

  But why was Gabrielle there? What did she have to do with this?

  Paris had mentioned seeing Gabrielle to Darius when he’d called to check on her after she returned from taking Imani home. Paris wasn’t actually expecting him to have any insight on this. But for now, Darius seemed to have become her willing accomplice, so to speak. She wasn’t going to talk to Andrew about it. He was always so straight up about everything. And she sure couldn’t talk to her mother. Darius seemed safe enough.

  So she’d mentioned to him that she’d taken Imani to see the girl who had been in need of the bone marrow transplant, leaving out the part about Imani being a match, of course. She wasn’t about to tell Darius everything. It was that trust factor thing again. Darius was charming and all, but there was something that wasn’t sitting completely right with her when it came to him.

  Darius had been a player that semester she knew him in college. He was as fine as he wanted to be, but he wasn’t in her league. She’d learned earlier on with her stint with Cedric that she was more of a caviar girl and not the bologna sandwich type. Cedric was the last loser she vowed to ever give her valuable self and time to.

  Cedric and Andrew had been friends. Where Cedric was lazy and a loser, Andrew had dreams and drive. When she met Andrew that first time at the club with Cedric, he wouldn’t give her the time of day. He was more concerned with studying and doing the right thing than having a good time. She had been impressed that he was already in college studying to be a lawyer. Lawyers made a lot more money than losers, and Andrew was cute. She just didn’t get how he could be friends with a do-nothing like Cedric.

  So about six months after she kicked Gabrielle to the curb for messing around with Cedric (even though Cedric denied anything ever happened between them), she plotted to get some alone time with Andrew. It took some doing, but Andrew finally admitted she was someone he would possibly talk to, but that he didn’t date women of his friends. She wasn’t going to give up so easily. She cried on his shoulders about how Cedric and a friend she’d opened up her home to had stabbed her in the back by sleeping together. She didn’t have to worry; Andrew didn’t know Gabrielle. So he didn’t know who she was talking about or that she didn’t even care for Gabrielle. He didn’t know that the only reason she allowed Gabrielle to live with her was to get a little money on the side, having Gabrielle pay half the rent (even though her father paid the entire bill) and using her to cook and clean.

  But Gabrielle was so nice. And all of her friends liked Gabrielle. All they talked about was how great Gabrielle was. How beautiful she was. Paris didn’t want to hear any of that mess. So when she suspected Gabrielle was having sex in her apartment, she knew it couldn’t be with anyone except Cedric. She tried to get Gabrielle to confess, but Gabrielle acted like she didn’t know what she was talking about. Paris could see that Gabrielle was guilty. She had the look of someone who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She just didn’t want to confess her sins.

  So Paris threw her out on the streets on her holy behind.

  Paris’s father didn’t seem to have a problem with what she did. In fact, he seemed relieved. Her mother, on the other hand, thought that was an awful thing to do. Her mother told her she could have at least given her a week to find somewhere to stay. But to give her an hour was cruel, and Deidra warned her that if she wasn’t careful how she treated folks, it was going to come back someday and bite her. But her father had approved of how decisive and direct she’d been. It was one of the few times she seemed to have done something that her father was pleased with. Malachi told her Gabrielle called twice as it was happening, leaving messages for their father to call. They both concluded Gabrielle must have been trying to get him to intervene.

  But Gabrielle was gone. And she’d managed to get rid of Cedric, finally replacing him with Andrew after about a year of plotting and maneuvering.

  And in the end, Andrew had proven to be a good choice. He was caring and a hard worker. In the very beginning of their marriage, he’d wanted to start having children. But she’d successfully convinced him that they should wait. He was easy like that. He didn’t nag her about her never cooking or cleaning. He didn’t say anything when she hired someone to come in and clean the house once a week, though he did balk when she told him she was thinking about hiring a cook.

  “It’s just me and you, Paris. We don’t need a cook for just the two of us. Now, if we had children, then that would be a different discussion,” he’d said after their first year of marriage.

  Paris figured he’d said that to force her to have a baby. But she wasn’t ready to have children yet. Then one year became two, two became three, and before she knew it, she was now finding herself trying to have a baby and unable to get pregnant.

  Paris heard the garage door to her parents’ house let up, then back down. She looked at her watch, got up, and went to the kitchen. She knew it wasn’t her mother. Deidra was at Wednesday-night Bible study and wouldn’t be home until around nine o’clock.

  Lawrence stepped into the kitchen and saw her standing there.

  “Hi, Paris. I thought I saw your car out there.” He str
olled over to her. “So what brings you here? Did you come by to see how your boy made out?”

  “My boy?” Paris said, wondering what he was talking about. “What boy?”

  “Yeah.” Lawrence went to the refrigerator, took out a can of soda, and popped the top. He turned it up, then set the can down on the counter. “You know who I’m talking about: your boy. The one you tried to set me up with the other day: Darius Connors.”

  Paris’s whole body stiffened. Her eyes began to blink fast. So her father knew she’d set him up on Monday. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Daddy.”

  “Sure you do. You had your boy show up at the restaurant the other day as though it was some coincidence. The two of you acting like it was your first time seeing each other in a long time. Yeah, I fell for it in the beginning. I mean: Why not? People run into each other all the time. But then, he started strategically saying things to get a reaction from me.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe my own daughter would conspire against me like that.” He went and sat down on the couch in the den.

  Paris followed him and sat on the other end, away from him. “Okay, so maybe he and I had seen each other prior to him coming into the restaurant the other day.”

  “Seen each other my foot,” Lawrence said. “You and he plotted together. And now you’re trying to step your game up. But I’m going to tell you just like I told him a little while ago, right before I left him: I don’t play that! I’ll chew you up and spit you both out; I don’t care if you are my child.”

  Paris frowned. “What do you mean when you saw him a little while ago?”

  “Paris, don’t play with me. I know you and him devised that whole little thing this evening. But you should know that I don’t take kindly to blackmail. So you’d best be careful who you’re messing with,” Lawrence said. “You’d better get it through your head and get it through his head as well: I am not the one!”

  “Daddy, I honestly don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Lawrence nodded. “Your boy Darius called my office earlier today. Told Mattie that he needed to speak with me, that he was a friend of yours, and it was imperative that he speak with me today. I’d just gotten back from a session in Montgomery, so you know I was tired. But with him mentioning your name, I returned his call. That’s when he tells me that we need to meet for dinner. That he has some information that could hurt me and my family. Said he didn’t want to discuss it over the phone, which I respect. But then he threatened me by telling me it was in my best interest that I show up or that I would be sorry.”

  “Are you sure it was Darius Connors?”

  “I met him tonight. Oh, it was him all right.” Lawrence stood up. “I’m telling you: You’d better be careful who you hook up with when it comes to me. I don’t play when it comes to me and mine. I don’t. I’ll fight to protect what’s mine.”

  “Daddy, I promise you: I didn’t have anything to do with him calling you today or asking to meet with you. I promise I didn’t.” Paris was now standing as well.

  “Well, I believe he and I have an understanding. And him trying to bring up your little ex-friend Gabrielle, whatever her last name is now, doesn’t faze me in the least.” Lawrence stared at Paris. “You tell him that the next time you talk to him. Then if I were you, I’d get as far away from that brother as possible. He looks and smells like real trouble to me. So if you didn’t have anything to do with him calling me today, then he’s using you to get to me. And I will hurt that boy—”

  Paris touched her father’s arm. “Okay, Daddy. I hear you. I’m sure this has to be some big misunderstanding.”

  Lawrence put his hand up to his mouth, then took his hand down. “Well, any misunderstanding is totally on his part. I assure you: I’ve made my position crystal clear. Paris, I have too much going on in my world for any foolishness right now. So if you’re doing anything to try to get attention, you need to put that noise on hold!”

  “Of course, Daddy.”

  Lawrence pushed his shoulders back and walked out of the room.

  “Of course,” Paris said with her hand to her mouth.

  Chapter 44

  Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

  —Luke 6:38

  On Palm Sunday, five days after Jasmine had come home, Jessica was rushed to the hospital. It was Monday now; Tuesday would be Jasmine’s ninth birthday. Jessica and Gabrielle had planned a nice little birthday party for her. But now Jessica lay in the hospital barely able to keep her eyes open.

  Jasmine didn’t want to leave her mother’s side. So she and Gabrielle sat there for hours, waiting on Jessica to wake up the next time she’d wake up. When Jessica opened her eyes and saw they were still there, and she discovered that they hadn’t been home since the last time she woke up, she insisted that they go home. She asked Gabrielle to call her lawyer and to let him know what was going on. “His business card is inside of that flowered box on the top of my dresser,” Jessica said.

  Gabrielle called Robert Shaw’s office as requested and informed him that Jessica was in the hospital in critical condition even though she really didn’t understand why this was so important to Jessica right now. Robert Shaw then did something that made her be even more confused. He asked her to come to his office as soon as possible. She had Jasmine. He told her it wouldn’t take long but that it was imperative that she come today. He would be in the office for the rest of the day, so whenever she came, he’d make himself available to her. And if she couldn’t come to him, he would come to wherever she was.

  When she told Zachary about the strange conversation, Zachary told her he had an hour available and would be glad to watch Jasmine while she went to the lawyer’s office. He could meet her at the hospital since Jasmine was insisting on going back now to be with her mother.

  Gabrielle found the lawyer’s office easy enough. Robert Shaw was a short man with a balding head who looked to be in his late fifties, possibly early sixties. He had a smile that instantly put Gabrielle at ease.

  The meeting lasted all of twenty minutes, but the impact of what he’d said was life changing. Jessica had granted Gabrielle power of attorney over all of her affairs as well as her health care proxy. In addition, Robert Shaw informed her, Jessica had filed a petition for appointment of guardian for Gabrielle to become Jasmine’s guardian in the case when she was unable to take care of her. Attorney Shaw had been instructed, upon knowledge of Jessica’s health’s decline, to begin the proceedings to make the petition for guardianship happen. And unless Gabrielle had any objections to any of this, he would begin as previously requested.

  Gabrielle returned to the hospital slightly stunned. And what she saw when she got to Jessica’s room almost broke her heart in two. Jasmine’s head was lying on Jessica’s bosom and Jessica’s hand rested on Jasmine’s head as she slept. Gabrielle looked at Zachary, who stood away from the two with his hand up to his mouth.

  Zachary shook his head slowly when he looked into Gabrielle’s eyes. She walked over to him, and he hugged her tight. Gabrielle had to be strong. She just wanted to gather Jasmine up in her arms and take all of the pain away.

  After fifteen minutes, Gabrielle walked over to the bed. “Honey, come here,” she said to Jasmine.

  Jasmine held her head up. Her face was wet with tears. Gabrielle wiped Jasmine’s face and smiled.

  “I love her so much,” Jasmine said as she cried.

  “I know you do. And she loves you so much, too.”

  Jessica was trying to open her eyes. She then tried to say something. She beckoned for Gabrielle, who moved her ear closer so she could hear what Jessica was trying to say.

  “Did you talk to Robert Shaw?” Jessica said, barely above being a whisper.

  “Yeah. I did.”

  Jessica tried to smile. “Is everything okay?”


  Gabrielle tried to smile back. “Yes, everything is okay.”

  Jessica’s eyes flickered like a light bulb preparing to blow. “Good. Tomorrow is Jasmine’s birthday. Have to have a big party for her.”

  “I don’t care about a party,” Jasmine said, rushing to her mother’s side. “All I want is for you to get better.” Jasmine started visibly crying again.

  “Zachary? Is Dr. Morgan still here?” Jessica asked as she tried to look where she thought he might be standing if he was there.

  Zachary quickly moved to where she could easily see him. “I’m here.”

  “Can you take Jasmine out for a minute? I need to . . . talk to . . . Gabrielle.” Her speech was becoming labored.

  “I don’t want to leave you, Mama. I don’t want to go! Don’t make me go. I want to stay here with you.” Jasmine took her mother’s hand and held it.

  “I just need a few minutes . . . okay?” Jessica smiled as she closed her eyes. “Just a few . . .”

  “Come on, Miss Jazz,” Zachary said, taking her by the other hand. “What say you and I go down to the gift shop to see if we can’t find something to cheer your mother up?”

  Jasmine nodded, but didn’t take her eyes off her mother. “We’ll be back soon, Mama. Okay? We’ll be right back.”

  Jessica nodded one time. It was as though that was all the energy she could muster now.

  As soon as they left, Gabrielle leaned down closer. “You’re going to be all right. You just have to keep fighting. You can’t give up, not now. We’ve been praying for God’s healing for you. Jasmine needs you.” Gabrielle tried to smile, but her mouth trembled as she tried to sustain it.

  Jessica shook her head. “No, I’m not going . . . to be all right.” Her voice had faded now to a wispy whisper. “I’ve come to terms . . . that my healing . . . is not going to happen . . . on this side . . . of Heaven. But I want you . . . to do . . . something for me. I need you . . . to do it. I don’t have . . . the strength left . . . to do it myself. But it must . . . be done.”