Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray
J
asmine never imagined feeling this way
.
She expected to be a wife. Expected to have a career. Never considered being a mother.
She stood over the crib in the nursery and peered at her sixteen-hour-old daughter, the little one who had planted herself in the center of her heart. Jacqueline wiggled, stretched, and still she slept. Jasmine kissed the tips of her fingers and placed them on her daughter’s forehead, then, she whispered to the nurse, “I’ll be back.”
As she inched toward her room, Dr. Edmonds came behind her.
“Let me help you,” he said, taking her arm. Once she was in the bed, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Good. I’m still sore, though.”
“That’s normal; give it three to four weeks. Take it easy for now. We don’t want anything to agitate the stitches.”
She nodded. “Have you seen Jacqueline?”
He smiled. “Yes, beautiful name.”
“Is she all right.”
“Yes, again,” he said and eased onto the stool. “She was only a few weeks premature. Actually, she was within the normal range. She’s fine.”
“What about that…PKL thing Dr. Austin mentioned?”
“That’s only a risk at birth.”
“So,” she looked down at her hands, “there won’t be any need for Hosea’s blood again?”
“No, in fact, there was no need for his blood yesterday. Once I found out what was going on, I had a nurse…take care of it.”
She nodded. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” She felt the need to add, “I do love my husband,” and glanced at her ring.
“Not that it’s any of my business, but Mae Frances told me that.”
She smiled at the thought that her neighbor would have spoken those words.
“I’ll check on you in the morning around ten. If all goes well, you’ll be going home if not tomorrow, the next day.”
As the doctor walked away, Jasmine marveled at her miracle. She had made it—Hosea would never find out.
The door creaked open.
“Hey,” Malik grinned. He kissed her cheek and handed her a basket of flowers. “How’re you feeling?”
“Wonderful. Ready to get out of here, though. I want to take Jacqueline home.”
He smiled as he sat in the chair. “I got a peek of her in the nursery.”
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Jasmine gushed.
“Spoken like a new mother.” Malik chuckled. “Who would have imagined this? Jasmine Larson, a mother and liking it.”
“Jasmine Larson Bush,” she corrected, “a mother and loving it. And you should see Hosea,” she said. “This morning he came here with cigars. I didn’t even know men still did that.” She chuckled.
Malik let go of his smile. “I still wish—”
Jasmine held up her hand. “Malik, please don’t go there.”
“Where’s Hosea now?”
“He had to go to the studio. He’ll be back this evening.”
The look on Malik’s face made Jasmine say, “You are just not going to let this alone, are you?”
“Jas, I’m never going to say anything, but I just can’t—as I was looking at Jacqueline, it was hard not to think about what I know.”
“What you know is that she is my baby. Mine and Hosea’s.”
Malik shook his head.
She said, “Would it make you feel better if you knew that God wanted it this way?”
He frowned.
“God’s been all up in this, Malik. Yesterday they took blood from Hosea for Jacqueline. But by God’s grace, we didn’t need it.”
“That wasn’t God’s grace, that was just luck.”
“I thought Christians didn’t believe in luck.”
“We don’t, not when we’re walking in God’s word.”
Jasmine folded her arms. “Like I’m not?”
He shrugged. “Look, the only reason I keep harping on this is that I know the longer this secret goes on, the worse it will be when he does find out.”
Jasmine sighed deeply. “Why do you keep insisting that Hosea will find out?”
“Because secrets never stay silent.”
“Stop it,” she hissed. “I’ve done everything I can and I’ll do everything I have to. Hosea will never find out that he is not Jacqueline’s father.”
The hospital door creaked open. A second ticked by. Then another. And another.
Reverend Bush walked in.
Seconds ticked to a minute.
All that could be heard was the thumping beat of Jasmine’s heart.
Finally, “Malik, I need to speak to Jasmine, alone.”
For the first time Malik moved. Turned his head, glanced at Jasmine.
Although she sat rigid with terror, she nodded. Tried to put an “I got this” smirk on her face, but she fooled no one.
Her heart continued its assault as Malik picked up his coat, glanced at Jasmine again, and then stepped slowly from the room.
More silence.
More fear.
Maybe he didn’t hear,
Jasmine prayed. She repeated that hope in her head.
“I came to see my granddaughter.” Only his lips moved. He stood as stiff as she sat. “But first, I wanted to see how you were doing.”
She wanted to tell him that she was fine. Start a normal conversation. Make him forget what he may have heard. But she couldn’t find her voice.
“You said…” He paused as if he didn’t want to speak the next words. “Hosea is not Jacqueline’s father.”
It’s over.
“Reverend Bush—”
He held up his hand. “Jasmine, don’t say a word unless you’re going to tell the truth.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I just want to know, yes or no.”
She said nothing.
“That’s my answer.”
“Reverend Bush, please—”
He held up his hand. It surprised her, the way he looked at her. With more disappointment than scorn.
Maybe it’s not over.
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to tell Hosea.”
Her eyes widened. “No!”
He stared her down. Still, his glance held more regret than contempt.
“Reverend Bush, please. I can’t tell Hosea. I love your son.”
“Either you tell Hosea or I will.”
Think, Jasmine, think.
She needed time. Just a week, a day even—time to make a plan.
“All right, but please, Reverend Bush, let us take Jacqueline home. Then, I’ll tell him. At home. Not here.” She paused, and her eyes roamed around the hospital room.
His silence made her think she’d won her appeal.
“Twenty-four hours.” He glanced at his watch, said, “Tomorrow morning at eleven, I will call my son.”
Her heart stopped pounding. Stopped beating altogether. “No,” she whispered, as she fondled the diamond key around her neck.
With sad eyes he turned away and almost staggered out the door.
All afternoon, the nurse
rolled Jacqueline into Jasmine’s room. All afternoon, Jasmine fed her baby, changed her, held her. And as she embraced her daughter, she prayed. And prayed. And prayed that God would pour out a miracle from heaven.
In between, Jasmine tried to sleep, but images accosted her, beating her down until she begged God for mercy.
But mercy never came. All she could see was the vision of Hosea, walking farther, farther away, until he was gone.
“No,” she whispered. She wouldn’t let him leave her.
“I need time,” she spoke to herself. At least she’d have all night. To sit, think. Devise the plan that would keep the promise that not until death would they part.
“Hey, darlin’.” His greeting came into the room almost before he did. “Did you get some rest?”
She sat up. Gripped the blanket as he kissed her.
“Sorry it took me so long to get back. Hey, I just saw Jacqueline,” he said. “She gets more gorgeous by the hour. And you know what? She grinned when she heard my voice.”
Her face smiled; her heart cried.
“I’m telling you, darlin’,” he paused, leaned forward. “We did good.” He added, “I was trying to figure out who she looks like.”
Oh, God.
“She has your eyes, but she definitely has my mouth.” He beamed. “So, did Dr. Edmonds say when we can break out? I want to take my girls home.”
“He said he’d see me in the morning.”
Hosea frowned. “I wanted to be here when you talked to him, but I have to be at the studio. I can be here by noon, though.”
By noon, Reverend Bush would have made the call that would send their marriage to death row. If Hosea had to know, she had to tell him. Only she could make him understand.
He said, “I can’t get out of the meeting.”
“That’s all right, I can talk to him,” Jasmine said, although her thoughts were nowhere near Dr. Edmonds.
“Okay. Well, you tell him that I want my girls home.” He glanced at his watch. “You know, they’re gonna be kicking me out of here any minute. I didn’t realize I’d spent so much time with Jacqueline, but I couldn’t help it.” He chuckled and kissed Jasmine’s forehead. “I can’t wait to be home with you and our baby.”
He didn’t seem to notice that she couldn’t speak.
“I hate leaving you here,” he said wrapping his arms around her. “Hate that I’m going to be in bed alone tonight.” He kissed her again. “I’ll call as soon as I get home.”
He was already moving to the door when she called his name.
He turned and her heart squeezed all hope from her. In his eyes, she saw all the love he held—for her, for Jacqueline. “Yes, darlin’.”
There was no way she could do this.
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours.”
She had to do this now.
“Jasmine, what’s wrong?” he asked stepping back reaching for her.
“There’s something—” She stopped. Looked down at her hands. Clasped them together and still they trembled.
Please, God. Give me the right words.
He sat on the edge of the bed again. “Jasmine?”
There were tears in her eyes when she said, “Hosea, I love you so much.”
He grinned. “Is that what you wanted to tell me? I know that. And, darlin’, you don’t have to cry about it. It’s just the hormones—you just had our baby.”
“Hosea,” she sobbed, “I love you and I would never do anything to hurt you—”
He took her hands, kissed her palms.
“—on purpose.”
He frowned.
“Hosea, when I met you my world changed.”
“For me too, darlin’.”
“But for me, you were so different. You talked about a celibate relationship. I’d never heard a man say that. I didn’t know men like you existed.”
“And aren’t you glad we waited?” he said.
“Yes, but still, what you wanted was so different for me. I thought sex had to be part of a relationship. I thought I needed sex to live, and I thought I definitely needed sex to love.”
He grinned. “Well then, you and I have quite a testimony.” He paused, turning serious. “I should do a show about this. How relationships really are better without sex before marriage.”
“Hosea.” But she could say no more. She couldn’t do this. She’d have to think of another way.
He pushed himself from the bed. “I want to sneak by the nursery and kiss Jacqueline good night.” He blew her a kiss. “See you tomorrow, darlin’.”
He walked toward the door.
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours…”
His hand grabbed the door handle.
“And then I’m calling my son…”
The door swung open.
“Hosea, I had an affair,” she blurted, as if it were one word.
He stopped, his back still to her. Nothing but silence, as the door swung closed.
Then, he faced her.
“What did you say?” His voice had changed. Was deeper now.
Her tonsils were swollen, stopping her words. But the way he glared at her, she knew she had to speak. “I had an affair. And the baby, our baby is not—” She stopped, choking on the next words.
“What about…Jacqueline?” His voice, another octave lower.
Her eyes searched his. Love was still there, though not as clear.
She pushed the words through her throat. “She’s not—you’re not—.”
She watched his Adam’s apple inch up, then back down. “What are you saying?”
She searched for just a few words that would capture it all. But when his eyes thinned to slits, she didn’t have to say any more.
“Are you saying that Jacqueline is not my daughter?”
She pressed her lips together, nodded.
“You cheated on me?”
“No,” she cried. “It was before. It was—” She stopped; she’d never reveal that it happened on the day he’d asked her to marry him. “It was before we were married, before we were engaged.” She reached for him, but he left her hands hanging in the air.