Jasmine glanced at her ring one more time before she pushed against the hospital room door.
“Son, you can’t do this.” Reverend Bush’s words made Jasmine pause. She’d only stepped out to go to the bathroom. When had his father invaded their space?
“Pops, what’s the problem? Why are you hatin’ on me and Jasmine?”
That was her cue—to rush in and save herself from whatever the reverend was about to say. But shock sealed her in place.
“This is not about Jasmine. This is about you making this decision now, under duress. You’re in the hospital, for God’s sake. No one gets engaged in a hospital.”
Hosea laughed. “No one? Come on, Pops.”
“Okay, but still, you haven’t known Jasmine long enough.”
“I know you’re not coming at me with that. I’ve known Jasmine since January—almost double the time that you knew mom before you were married. How many times have you told me that when God tells you to find a wife, He won’t make you wait long?”
Jasmine heard the reverend sigh.
“Pops,” Hosea continued. “Jasmine is the woman God has chosen for me.”
“Let’s say that’s true. Why do you have to get married now? What’s the rush?”
Hosea paused before he responded, “Pops, I’m trying not to get upset here.”
“Then don’t. Let’s discuss this man to man.”
“Jasmine is not pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“So, what is this? An emotional decision?”
“Pops, no disrespect, but what kind of nonsense is this? Yes, this is an emotional decision because love is all about emotions.”
“I just don’t understand. I don’t see any exceptional qualities in that woman.”
Jasmine held her hands to her face. Felt her ring. Closed her eyes.
“Pops, I cannot believe what you’re saying. This is about me and Jasmine. Not you. But let me tell you what I see in my fiancée.” He paused. “She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met or dated. Besides the obvious that she’s intelligent, fun to be with, and successful in her own right, all of that pales to what she’s done for me.” His voice became softer. “Pops, it’s been a while since you’ve dated, but today, when you tell a woman how you’re trying to live for God, most don’t understand. They think you’re playing some game because they don’t think a man can be celibate. Or if they believe you, they constantly try to change your mind. And then there are some who just walk away. But not Jasmine.”
Her pounding heart forced her eyes open.
“I told Jasmine how I was trying to live and though it was hard for her and we had some talks about it, she honored what I wanted to do. She didn’t agree, but she honored me. That’s what makes me love her, Pops. If she were willing to honor me, like I’ve honored her while we were just friends, I know she’ll honor me as my wife.” Through his father’s sigh, Hosea continued, “I want your blessing. And I want you to marry us. But honestly, Pops, if you can’t do that, it’s fine with me. Jasmine and I will be married anyway.”
Jasmine held her breath through the silence that followed Hosea’s words. When she heard the reverend’s footsteps moving toward the door, she rushed around the corner.
This should have felt like a victory, but instead, she felt defeated, beaten down by her fiancé’s words. Hosea loved her because she’d honored him. He’d asked her to be his wife based on that lie.
What would happen if he ever found out? She shook her head, not wanting to think about that. There was nothing she could do about the past, but the future, she controlled. And every day she had left in her life, she would make sure that his words were true—she would honor Hosea Bush as his wife.
Chapter 30
So you guys are still doing it in June? What’s the rush?” Serena yelled for what seemed like the fiftieth time.
Jasmine jumped into her jeans, slipped into her top, without lifting the telephone from between her shoulder and ear. “I told you, it’s better this way.”
“This has to be about sex. You just can’t wait to get that man into bed, can you?”
Serena didn’t know how true her words were. After their kiss last week, being in bed with Hosea was all Jasmine could think about. But this time, it wasn’t about a plan. It was only that she was in love and now she wanted to make love.
“Jasmine!”
Her sister’s scream powered through her thoughts. “Would you stop yelling?” Jasmine said. “I told you, this is what Hosea wants.”
“So this is not about sex?”
“This is not about sex,” Jasmine said. And she meant it. “I love Hosea, Serena.”
Her sister waited a moment before she said, “I can hear that, Jasmine. And I’m thrilled. But June seventh is four weeks away. I hope I can be there.”
“I really want you here, but if you can’t, I’ll understand.”
Serena chuckled. “What has this man done to you? He has my sister all calm and everything.”
Jasmine smiled as she dumped the contents from her purse into a backpack. She knew she’d been changed.
“So, how are you going to have that fabulous wedding you wanted?”
“I don’t care about that anymore. If I had my way, we would’ve been married right in that hospital.”
Serena laughed. “This is still so unreal to me. My sister is marrying Hosea Bush.”
“Get used to it. I’m going to be a minister’s wife.” They laughed. “But not if I don’t get to the hospital and pick up my minister right now.”
“Tell him I said hello. And tell him to stay careful. Those blood clots are no joke.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on anything happening to Hosea Bush.”
They said their good-byes and then Jasmine dashed downstairs to a waiting cab. As the car sped toward the hospital, Jasmine let the past months drift through her mind. This had happened much faster than she’d expected. It made her pause once again and wonder about all that Hosea had said, that they were together because of God. Was this really God’s plan? Was it because His plan was so much better than hers that she would be married months before she imagined? She’d once heard a pastor say that what God had for you was so much better than what you wanted for yourself.
She smiled. She was living proof of that.
Jasmine moaned as soon as she saw the limousine.
This was not the way she wanted to end this day. Only adrenaline kept her awake now. It had been nonstop from the moment she picked up Hosea and then helped him to get settled at his home. Then she’d spent almost an hour in this cab as it crawled from Long Island back to the city. All she wanted was to plunge into her bed and not open her eyes until noon tomorrow. A confrontation with Mae Frances was not on this Saturday night’s agenda.
She paid the driver and then slipped from the car, hoping that somehow she could avoid her neighbor. But as she rushed to her building, she heard the footsteps behind her.
“Good evening, Ms. Larson,” Henrikas greeted her.
Even though for the last weeks she’d been much more pleasant to the doorman, she didn’t pause to speak. Her focus was the elevator. Her hope was that Mae Frances would have the good sense to stop and chat with Henrikas so that their paths wouldn’t cross. But when she stepped into the elevator, she discovered that her neighbor had no sense at all.
As if she were alone, Jasmine pressed 8 and kept her eyes on the doors.
The elevator rose to the second floor before Mae Frances said, “Jasmine Larson, do not tell me that you’re not going to say a word.”
With her stare still on the doors, Jasmine responded, “Based on the last time, I didn’t think you wanted to speak to me.”
Mae Frances sucked her teeth. “Child, don’t be so sensitive. You just made me mad, that’s all. It was my anger talking.”
Jasmine said nothing.
“Look,” Mae Frances continued, “I know you’re not…exactly like those other Christians. I know you have a bit o
f a heart.”
Jasmine faced her neighbor. “I was just trying to be your friend.”
“I know that.”
“You make it very hard.”
“I know that too.” When they stepped off the elevator, Mae Frances followed Jasmine to her door. “Let’s make a deal,” Mae Frances continued. “Don’t talk to me about God and that church thing, and I’ll try to never insult you again.”
Jasmine couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’ll try?”
Mae Frances nodded, serious with her promise. “Do we have a deal?”
Jasmine’s lips spread into a smile. How could she not accept this truce? She’d just become engaged, her fiancé was home and healthy. Surely, there was enough happiness to share, even with Mae Frances.
Jasmine shook Mae Frances’s hand. “Deal.”
“I like you, Jasmine Larson.” Without another word, Mae Frances disappeared into her apartment.
Jasmine shook her head. There was no way she would keep that deal. She was about to become a minister’s wife. Mae Frances hadn’t even begun to hear all that she had to say about God.
Jasmine grappled for the telephone in the dark.
“Hello?” she said with her eyes still closed.
“Darlin’, did I wake you?”
Jasmine shot up in her bed. “Hosea, are you all right?”
“I’m better than all right. I’m just calling with some good news about our wedding.”
Jasmine clicked on the light and smiled. As they’d rode home from the hospital, Hosea had convinced her that even though their wedding was merely four weeks away, he was still going to make sure she had the day she’d dreamed of.
“The only thing that’s going to be missing is the time and stress that comes when people try to go through this for an entire year,” he said. “It’s not necessary, and I’m going to show you.”
“Hosea, all I want is to be married to you. We can go to City Hall for all I care.”
“Oh, no,” he’d laughed. “We’re not going to have some banged-up wedding and then on our fiftieth anniversary, you tell our children that I did that to you. Oh, no.”
She’d laughed with him then, and she did now as she thought about his words.
“I contacted Sebastian,” he said, pulling her back to the present. “He’s going to design your dress.”
Jasmine jumped from the bed. “You’re kidding, right? Oh my gosh, tell me you’re not kidding!”
Hosea laughed. “Which is it? Am I kidding or not?”
Jasmine giggled. Sebastian was a rising designer who had studied for years with Vera Wang and now had his own showroom in Los Angeles. His designs dominated the red carpet at last year’s Academy Awards and word was he had already been commissioned to design Oprah’s gown for the upcoming Phenomenal Women Ball. “I had no idea you knew Sebastian.”
“Yeah, we go back a ways. Here’s the thing. He’s agreed to do your dress, but he needs you in Los Angeles.”
Los Angeles, she screamed inside. Brian’s image danced through her mind and she closed her eyes, squeezing him away.
Hosea continued, “I’ll get your ticket for sometime tomorrow and then I’ll have you back here Monday night, Tuesday the latest.”
“No,” Jasmine said, all joy gone. She would have rather walked down the aisle naked than take a trip to (or a chance in) L.A. “If he can’t come here or if we can’t do this by phone, I’ll just buy a dress.”
“But darlin’, this is Sebastian. You can get away for a day, can’t you? Do you want me to call Malik?”
Tears came to her eyes. This wasn’t about work. “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.
He hesitated. “Okay, darlin’. Go back to sleep. I’ll figure it out.”
“I love you, Hosea,” she said, then hung up. As she pulled the blanket to her chin, she wiped her face dry of tears. But fresh ones came, stealing all the joy that should have come with this news. She couldn’t even plan this wonderful time of her life without Brian stalking her.
Jasmine reached for the light, but pulled her hand back. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in the dark.
Chapter 31
Jasmine had doubted Hosea’s words.
When he told her they could have the wedding she wanted in four weeks, she knew that wasn’t possible. But then, she watched her fiancé work it.
First, two days after he’d called about Sebastian, the famed designer was sitting in Jasmine’s apartment, making sketches as she described her dream dress.
Next, Hosea hired Ciara LaReese, a celebrity wedding planner. Before the second week was out, their invitations had been designed and two hundred invites were delivered, the menu had been selected, the musicians had been chosen, and a photographer had been hired.
By the third week, the details of the day were completed: the flowers were ordered, hair and makeup artists were booked, and their photo shoot was scheduled for their picture that would appear in The New York Times.
By the fourth week, what had seemed an impossible task was unfolding to be a day beyond imagination. But even with Ciara, the whirlwind planning left Jasmine feeling like an about-to-pop rubber band. It was difficult to eat, hard to sleep, impossible to focus.
“That’s normal,” Serena had told her when Jasmine complained about not being able to get more than two hours of sleep. “You’re suffering from pre-wedding jitters. And it hasn’t helped that you’ve piled into a few weeks what most people do in a year.”
“Just take it easy,” Malik had said when he noticed the dark circles under Jasmine’s eyes at church. “You look exhausted and I know you don’t want to look like that on Saturday. Stacy has the club under control; I’ve got the office. Take this week off.”
Jasmine had no intention of following Malik’s suggestion, but now, as she tossed through the night, she decided that rest was what she needed.
Sunday’s night was just beginning to bow to the light of Monday when her eyes finally closed. But no more than ten minutes later, a knock on her door pulled her back to consciousness. She tried to smother her pillow over her ears when the knock came again. Finally she crawled from her bed.
Mae Frances’s smile greeted her. “Jasmine Larson, what are you doing in your bathrobe? I thought you’d be ready for work.”
“I’m staying home today,” she said, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
“If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have come by so early. But since I’m here.” She stepped into the apartment. “I got that invitation.” She tilted her head as if that would give her a better view of Jasmine. “You’re really going to marry the preacher man?”
Even though her bones ached, that couldn’t stop her smile. “Yes. On Saturday, I’ll be a married woman.”
Mae Frances shook her head. “I think that other one was better for you.”
There he was again—Brian, invading her happiness. “I’m marrying the man I’m supposed to,” Jasmine said, crossing her arms.
Mae Frances shrugged. “Doesn’t make me no never mind. I don’t have to sleep with either one of them.”
The cheer that had come in with Mae Frances was completely gone now. “Is there a reason you stopped by?” Jasmine asked, trying not to sound harsh.
“Yes, I came by to tell you that I won’t be able to make the wedding.”
Jasmine’s mouth opened wide. Mae Frances was the only friend she had. And for a reason she couldn’t explain, Jasmine wanted to share her wedding day with her neighbor.
“Now, don’t get in a hissy,” Mae Frances said as she looked at Jasmine’s face. “You know how I feel about churches. But…” She paused. “You also know how I feel about you, so I want to take you out to dinner to celebrate.”
Jasmine kept her laugh inside. Mae Frances wanted to take her out to dinner? Please, Jasmine thought. I’m the one who’ll be paying.
But then, Jasmine wondered, when was the last time her neighbor had been able to enjoy a meal, or anything outside of her home?
> “That’s a good idea, Mae Frances,” Jasmine said, glad she’d have a way to treat her neighbor. “Where do you want to go?”
“Well, if you can get away for dinner this week, how about we try Jean Georges. I haven’t been there in a while.”
Jasmine raised her eyebrows. She doubted if her neighbor had ever been to the famed restaurant. She wanted to be annoyed, even angry that Mae Frances would suggest Jean Georges when not a penny would come from her pocket. Still, Jasmine said, “Sounds good. But would you mind if we did lunch instead?” she asked, hoping the lunch menu would be a bit more affordable.
Mae Frances agreed. “Why don’t we do lunch today?”
Jasmine had hoped to spend much of the day in bed, but her neighbor’s eager eyes made her say, “Sure. Will Gerald drive us?”
Mae Frances raised her shoulders a bit higher. “Of course. Why would I have a driver and not have him take me to lunch?”
Jasmine shrugged. She could ask that and lots of other questions. Like, why did Mae Frances have a driver at all? Or, why didn’t she sell the diamonds she wore? Her driver and diamonds could buy her food for quite a bit of time.
But she didn’t ask Mae Frances anything. Just waved good-bye after they agreed to meet right at noon.
It was the warmest day of the year, yet Mae Frances wore the fur-trimmed cashmere cape that she favored since she’d shed her mink back in March. Just looking at her wrapped in the wool, over a cream polyester shift, made Jasmine sweat, even though her sleeveless silk tank dress worked well for the almost ninety-degree May day.
Jasmine didn’t miss the way the maître d’ eyed the two when they strutted into the restaurant. But she kept her head as high as Mae Frances held hers as they were escorted to a table far from the entrance.
“Please bring me a glass of Chardonnay,” Mae Frances said the moment they were seated. “Do you want anything to drink?” she asked Jasmine as if she were really going to be paying the bill.
“I’ll have hot tea, please,” Jasmine said, hoping that would calm her stomach and wake her up at the same time.
A Sin and a Shame Page 19