“No problem,” Darius said with a smirk. “I just wish instead of us going through all of this, you could slap me upside my head, knock me to the floor . . . what’s that they call it? Slain in the Spirit? Anyway, put your hand to my head and pray, and when you’re finished, everything is all right again.”
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t quite work like that,” Pastor Landris said. “So what’s it going to be? Because if you’re interested in the in-house facility, I need to let them know you’re coming and get the ball rolling.”
Darius stood up. “Let me think about it, and if I decide to move forward, I’ll let you know. But right now, I’m leaning toward getting my wife back my own way, without having to go through all this. I will consider all that you’ve said, and I’ll get back with you.”
Pastor Landris and Johnnie Mae stood up as well. “Okay, then,” Pastor Landris said. “You can call the church office here, ask for Phyllis. She’ll get the information to me, and we will go from there if you decide that’s what you want to do.” Pastor Landris released a controlled quiet sigh.
Darius nodded and started toward the door.
“Wait up. We wanted to pray before you left. Remember?” Pastor Landris said, taking hold of Johnnie Mae’s hand as they reached out for Darius’s.
Darius looked down at Pastor Landris’s hand as though Pastor Landris had just come out of the bathroom without washing his hand first, then back up to his face. “That’s okay. I’m good.” Darius walked to the door, opened it, and left without even so much as a thank you or a good-bye.
Chapter 51
For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.
—Matthew 18:20
“Okay, so what just happened here?” Pastor Landris asked
Johnnie Mae.
She shook her head. “Beats me. I was just so very pleasantly surprised when you showed up.”
“You and I have talked about Darius Connors before. When Phyllis told me he’d come to my office pretty much demanding to see me, then told me you’d come along and offered to talk with him, I wasn’t going to leave you alone with him.”
“Jealous, are you?”
“Woman, please. I am not worried when it comes to you. I know the man that you love, the man to whom your whole heart belongs. And you love you some Him and His name is Jesus. I know you’re not going to do anything to hurt or disappoint Him.”
Johnnie Mae laughed. “You’re so cute. If it makes you feel better, after Jesus, I love me some George Edward Landris.”
He blushed. “And I wouldn’t want the order to be any other way,” Pastor Landris said. “But back to Darius. Can you believe what he called himself doing?”
“You mean him sneakily telling us about Fatima and Gabrielle? Oh, yes, I caught that. Too bad he didn’t know that he wasn’t telling either of us anything that we didn’t already know,” Johnnie Mae said. “But had Fatima not informed me the other week all about her part with him, it would have caught me off guard. I remember the first time when I started helping out with counseling, Fatima came and talked with me. It was back when you preached on strongholds that time. She told me she was dealing with a married man and wanted to break completely from that stronghold. Who knew that some five years later, I would learn the name of that married man and it would turn out to be Darius Connors, of all people?”
“I just pray he’s not still having affairs,” Pastor Landris said. “I would very much like to help him. But I also feel in my spirit, he’s headed for an even greater fall. Sadly, I don’t believe he’s hit rock bottom yet. He’s too prideful. And the Bible says that pride goes before destruction. We can pray for him, but he has to want to change.”
“Well, Tiffany came and talked with me a few weeks back. She was devastated about everything going on with Darius. She doesn’t believe he’s going to ever change unless he’s confronted with the possibility that she won’t be there taking his garbage any longer. She’s fed up, and that’s an understatement.”
“Yeah, but we’re Christians,” Pastor Landris said. “We’re not supposed to get fed up, right?” He grinned.
“It’s like you’ve preached on a few times. Even Jesus got fed up enough that He turned over the tables of the money changers. Fed up is not always a bad thing.”
“True. I just pray Darius comes to his senses before he really does lose everything. He needs to come completely clean with his wife, though. I still feel like he’s not telling everything. The man needs heart surgery . . . a spiritual heart surgery.” Pastor Landris was still holding Johnnie Mae’s hand. “Well, it looks like it’s just you and me. Whether he stayed for it or not, he still needs prayer.”
“Let’s do it, then. For Tiffany and those children. For Darius, even if he didn’t care enough to stay and take part. For Fatima and Trent, because if Darius keeps running around telling this like he’s doing, who knows what’s going to happen. And for Gabrielle, Jasmine, and Zachary, who need all the help and covering they can get.”
Pastor Landris and Johnnie Mae bowed their heads as they held both hands. Pastor Landris began to pray. “Father God, we come to You, humbly and with pure adoration. Thanking You for Your many blessings. Lord, I thank You for this blessing of a woman You have given me. Keep her in perfect peace. Be a lifter of her spirits, I pray. Bless those who have yoked themselves with this body, Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center. Lord, You know what each is in need of. I feel Your presence right now. For Lord, You say where two or three are gathered together in Your name, You’ll be in the midst.
“Lord, touch those who are sick in their bodies, sick in their minds, and sick in their hearts. We know You are a divine healer; You’re a rock in a weary land. I ask a special blessing in the lives of Darius and Tiffany Connors. You know better than we. Send protection and a special touch of love into the Connors’s household; into the lives of Fatima and Trent Howard; into the lives of Gabrielle, Jasmine, and Zachary. Remove all anger, bitterness, and strife. Lord, I ask that You grant me the wisdom to lead Your people and to be a blessing to all I may come in contact with through whatever median You see fit. These blessings I ask in Jesus’s name, amen.”
Johnnie Mae squeezed his hand. “Amen.”
Chapter 52
For with God nothing shall be impossible.
—Luke 1:37
It was mid-November 2010, a full year since Gabrielle first learned she wasn’t a bone marrow match for the little girl she’d given birth to some eight years earlier. The doorbell rang. Gabrielle and Jasmine were in the kitchen mixing batter for brownies.
“It never fails, when I get really busy, something always interrupts me,” Gabrielle said to Jasmine.
“You want me to get it for you?” Jasmine asked. “It’s nobody but Dr. Z.”
Gabrielle let the wooden spoon she was using rest inside the bowl. “No, I’ll get it. I’m pretty sure it’s not Dr. Z because he said he was working until six today.”
“Well, maybe he got off early.”
Gabrielle tapped Jasmine on her nose as the two of them headed for the door. “You wish.”
“What I wish is that we would hurry up and get married. Then he could just come home to us.”
Gabrielle laughed. “We, huh?”
“Yes. You, Dr. Z, and me. We.” Jasmine put her thumb to her chest.
Gabrielle cracked the door open. “Andrew? What are you doing here?”
“Hi. I hope you don’t mind me coming by without calling first,” Andrew said.
“No, it’s fine.” Gabrielle opened the door a little wider.
“Hi, Gabrielle,” Paris said.
“Paris.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I came with Andrew. If you’d rather, I’ll go sit in the car and wait.”
“It’s okay.” Gabrielle glanced down and saw Paris’s definite baby bump. “I see that congratulations are in order.” Gabrielle didn’t say it with a lot of enthusiasm.
Paris placed her hand
on her now showing stomach enhanced by the knit purple-print dress she was wearing. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Come in,” Gabrielle said, opening the door wide enough for them both to walk through together.
Andrew and Paris walked in and stood in the marbled foyer.
Andrew looked at Jasmine, who was standing off to the side. “Hello, Jasmine.”
Jasmine waved. “Hi there.”
“Hi, Jasmine,” Paris said, putting her hand over her mouth after saying Jasmine’s name.
Jasmine merely gave a short flip of her hand.
Andrew turned back to Gabrielle. “We’re not going to stay long. I just stopped by to bring you something.” He held out a large gold-colored envelope to her.
Gabrielle took it. “What is it?”
“Open it and see,” Andrew said.
Gabrielle looked at him and began opening it. She pulled the papers out.
“It’s official,” Andrew said. “They’re your official papers. It’s done, Gabrielle. It’s all over.” He smiled.
Gabrielle hurriedly scanned the papers. Jasmine was officially and legally her daughter. She hugged Andrew, then just as quickly stepped back. She then rushed over to Jasmine and hugged her. “You’re my daughter now. It’s official, Jasmine. It’s official!”
Jasmine held on to Gabrielle tight. “I’m your daughter? We’re officially a family now?”
Gabrielle pushed back and looked into her eyes. “Yes, baby! We are officially a family now.” She hugged her again.
“Congratulations, Gabrielle,” Paris said. “I’m so happy . . . for both of you.”
Gabrielle stood up straight and turned to Paris. “Thank you, Paris. I appreciate that.”
“I mean it,” Paris said. “I really do.” Paris looked at Jasmine and tears began to form in her eyes. “I’m happy for you both.” She continued to look at Jasmine, tilting her head slightly as she smiled.
Gabrielle knew it was because she now knew that Jasmine was, in reality, her half sister. Lawrence had contacted her and told her everything that had gone down. Well, maybe not everything, but pretty much all she needed to know.
She thought when he first told her that his wife knew the whole truth about both her and Jasmine, that he was doing that to let her know any leverage she may have thought she had was pretty much gone. He sealed it by letting her know that he was no longer planning on staying in the race for reelection. He then went on to assure her that Paris would no longer be interfering with her and Jasmine. Gabrielle wasn’t sure how exactly he could guarantee that, but she was taking what she could get.
Lawrence then shocked her by saying that one day he hoped she would tell Jasmine that he was her father and that she had other siblings. Gabrielle told him she wasn’t ready to go there yet—not with him, not with his family, and most certainly not with Jasmine. She’d worked hard to repair the damage caused when Jasmine learned Gabrielle was her birth mother. She had originally planned on telling Jasmine that in her own time and her own way, but Paris had ruined all of that. Then there was fallout that came afterward. She didn’t want to open up that wound right now.
For now, Jasmine wasn’t asking about her father. But since Lawrence had told her he wanted a relationship with his daughter . . . that “they” wanted a relationship with Jasmine, mainly encouraged by his wife, who, it turned out, was instrumental in bringing all of this to fruition the way it had. She would tell Jasmine when she felt the time was right. Barring any more slipups, that information, she prayed, would go over a lot better than the information that had been revealed when it came to her.
“Would it be all right if I have a hug?” Paris asked Jasmine as they were getting ready to leave.
Jasmine looked at Gabrielle as though she was asking what she thought about it. Gabrielle smiled at Jasmine. Jasmine smiled back, then went to Paris, who promptly bent down and hugged her almost as though she didn’t want to let go.
Andrew and Paris left. Gabrielle turned and looked at Jasmine. They both screamed at the same time while doing what they called “the happy dance” right there together in the foyer. The doorbell rang, prematurely interrupting their celebration.
“Wonder who that can be?” Gabrielle said, going to the door to answer it. “Maybe Mr. Andrew forgot something.”
Gabrielle opened the door and her mouth literally hung open as she stared.
An older woman, dressed in the style of the Queen of England, cute little hat and all, stood at the door. “Hello, dearie,” she said.
Gabrielle merely stood there, not knowing what to say, in complete shock. She suddenly began to cry, then began balling like a baby as she pulled the older woman inside the foyer and hugged her for dear life. “Miss Crowe! Miss Crowe!” That was all she could get out. “Miss Crowe.”
Esther Crowe patted her on the back as they hugged, her hat falling to the floor.
Zachary stepped into view. Gabrielle let go of Miss Crowe, but only partially. She looked at Zachary and smiled.
“Surprise!” he said, stooping down and picking up Miss Crowe’s blue hat.
Jasmine ran to the door and straight into Zachary’s arms. “Dr. Z!”
Zachary scooped her up. “Miss Jazz!” He held her in the air as he stepped fully inside the house. He set Miss Crowe’s hat on the round table in the foyer.
Gabrielle looked at Miss Crowe and hugged her again. “What are you doing here? Oh, Miss Crowe, I’ve missed you so much! I’m so glad you’re here.” She took Miss Crowe carefully by the arm. “Come. Come on in and let’s sit down.” She led her into the living room. Miss Crowe gently sat down alongside Gabrielle, who was still holding on to her, helping her with every movement.
They held hands as they sat closely next to each other. Gabrielle quietly laid her head on Miss Crowe’s shoulder. Miss Crowe took her hand and brushed down Gabrielle’s hair, straight now and not full of her usual rods of curls.
“You came back,” Gabrielle said, looking into her face. “You came home.”
“Yes, baby. I came back.” Miss Crowe looked into her eyes and smiled. “I came back for you. They said I wouldn’t make it. I’m not supposed to even be here. But guess what? I made it. I made it. With God, nothing shall be impossible to those who believe.”
“You came back for me? For me?” Tears were streaming down Gabrielle’s face.
Miss Crowe opened her purse and took out a handkerchief. She carefully began dabbing away Gabrielle’s tears. “Yes. I came back for you. I came . . . so you and I can plan a wedding. That’s right: I’m here for a wedding. And there will be no more stalling and no more excuses. Do you hear me? No devil is going to stop this from taking place. No devil or folks who think they know best. Miss Crowe is here.”
Gabrielle nodded as she continued to cry. “You always know, don’t you? You always know when I need you the most. And your speech . . . it’s no longer slurred like it was last time I saw you.”
Miss Crowe placed her feeble hands on each side of Gabrielle’s face. “Yes, I do always know. And, no, my speech is no longer as slurred, praise the Lord from whom all blessings flow. I’m here now, Gabrielle. I’m here. And in spite of all that’s going on, you and I are going to dance like nobody’s business. You . . . and I—”
“And me!” Jasmine said, coming and flopping down on the other side of Gabrielle. “Don’t forget me. We’re family now. She”—Jasmine pointed at Gabrielle—“is my mother. Isn’t that right, Mama?”
Gabrielle cried out as she grabbed Jasmine and hugged her. For the first time, Jasmine had called her “Mama.” Gabrielle nodded, unable to control her tears of joy. “Yes. We’re all here, and we’re all family. And I’m so proud that you’re my daughter and that God allowed me to be your . . . mother.” Gabrielle looked at Zachary.
He winked and blew her a kiss.
“So next stop,” Miss Crowe said, “is the wedding. And we’re going to have a big wedding, too. Cinderella ain’t got nothing on what we’re about to do down here in Birmingham,
Alabama—home of the Magic City.”
“Miss Crowe, I can’t get over how much your speech is almost totally back to normal. It’s simply amazing! Who would know that just last year about this time, you couldn’t even say a word?”
“It’s called the power of God. God’s goodness and mercy. And there’s nothing simple about our God and what He can do.” Miss Crowe patted Gabrielle’s hand. “Now, who’s up to start planning for a wedding? Anybody? Anybody?”
“Meeeee!” Jasmine said, waving her hand in the air. “I’m the flower girl!”
“Meeeee!” Zachary said, waving his hand like Jasmine. “I’m the groom!”
“Meeeee!” Miss Crowe said, also waving her hand, just not as high as Jasmine and Zachary. “I’m standing in for the mother or maybe the grandmother of the bride. Yeah, the grandmother of the bride and the aunt of the groom.”
Gabrielle laid her head on Miss Crowe’s shoulder as she continued to allow her tears to fall.
“Ahem,” Jasmine said loudly, then patted Gabrielle on the leg. “Excuse me, but it seems that everyone present has raised their hand to be a part of this wedding except for one person in this room. Now who could that be? Let’s see: One person has not raised her hand for anything yet. We’re waiting.” Jasmine tried to look mean at Gabrielle.
Gabrielle lifted her head off Miss Crowe’s shoulder. “Meeeee!” she said, raising and waving her hand just as hard and as wild as Jasmine had done. “Let’s see now, what can I do. Oh, I know. I’m going to be . . . the bride!” The weight of that word suddenly hit her. She would be the bride.
Jasmine leapt up off the couch and went over to Zachary. “Finally! It’s a go! We’re going to get married. So, Dr. Z. May I have this dance?” She curtsied.
He bowed from his waist. “Absolutely, my lady.” He took her hand as they held a pose to begin a waltz.
The Other Side of Dare Page 28