Read Sins of the Mother Online
Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray
Sins of the Mother
Praise for
Lady Jasmine
“She’s back! Jasmine has wreaked havoc in three VCM novels, including last year’s
Too Little, Too Late
. In
Lady Jasmine
the schemer everyone loves to loathe breaks several commandments by the third chapter.”
—Essence
“Jasmine is the kind of character who doesn’t sit comfortably on a page. She’s the kind who jumps inside a reader’s head, runs around and stirs up trouble—the kind who stays with the reader long after the last page is turned.”
—The Huntsville Times
(Alabama)
Praise for
Too Little, Too Late
“[In this book] there are so many hidden messages about love, life, faith, and forgiveness. Murray’s vividness of faith is inspirational.”
—The Clarion-Ledger
(Jackson, Mississippi)
“An excellent entry in the Jasmine Larson Bush Christian Lit saga; perhaps the best so far. . . . Fans will appreciate this fine tale. . . . A well-written intense drama.”
—Midwest Book Review
Praise for
The Ex Files
“The engrossing transitions the women go through make compelling reading. . . . Murray’s vivid portrait of how faith can move mountains and heal relationships should inspire.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Reminds you of things that women will do if their hearts are broken. . . . Once you pick this book up, you will not put it down.”
Praise for
A Sin and a Shame
“Riveting, emotionally charged, and spiritually deep. . . . What is admirable is the author’s ability to hold the reader in suspense until the very last paragraph of the novel!
A Sin and a Shame
is a must read. . . . Truly a story to be enjoyed and pondered upon!”
“
A Sin and a Shame
is Victoria Christopher Murray at her best. . . . A page-turner that I couldn’t put down as I was too eager to see what scandalous thing Jasmine would do next. And to watch Jasmine’s spiritual growth was a testament to Victoria’s talents. An engrossing tale of how God’s grace covers us all. I absolutely loved this book!”
—ReShonda Tate Billingsley,
Essence
bestselling author of
I Know I’ve Been Changed
A
LSO BY
V
ICTORIA
C
HRISTOPHER
M
URRAY
Lady Jasmine
Too Little, Too Late
The Ex Files
A Sin and a Shame
Grown Folks Business
Truth Be Told
Temptation
Joy
Blessed Assurance
(contributor)
of the
Mother
Victoria Christopher Murray
Touchstone
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.simonandschuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Christopher Murray
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Touchstone Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.
First Touchstone trade paperback edition June 2010
TOUCHSTONE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected].
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Murray, Victoria Christopher.
Sins of the mother : a novel / Victoria Christopher Murray.
p. cm.
“A Touchstone book.”
1. African American women—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3563.U795S57 2010
813'.54—dc22
2009047706
ISBN 978-1-4165-8918-1
ISBN 978-1-4391-7228-5 (ebook)
Dedicated to E. Lynn Harris.
An amazing man, a wonderful mentor. Gone way too soon, but you have left a legacy that fills all of us with pride. Rest in peace, my friend.
N
EW
Y
ORK
, N
EW
Y
ORK
N
OVEMBER
2009
“L
OVE
M
AMA
!”
Jasmine scooped her toddler into her arms. “You do love your mama, don’t you?” She laughed.
Mae Frances rolled her eyes as Jasmine smothered her son’s cheeks with kisses.
“Don’t make no kind of sense, Jasmine Larson,” her best friend said. “Teaching that baby to say that.”
“What’s wrong with him loving his mama?” But before Mae Frances could answer, Jasmine stood straight up and scanned the crowd that packed the new mall. In just seconds, her gaze locked on her daughter, crouched in front of the pet store window. “Jacqueline!”
The girl’s brown curls bounced when she jumped up, startled, and skipped back to Jasmine and Mae Frances.
With a firm hand, Jasmine grasped her daughter’s wrist. “I told you to stay where Nama and I could see you.”
Jacqueline bowed her head. “But Mama,” she sighed, “I could see you.”
“Well, I couldn’t see you, so why don’t you sit down for a moment and cool off,” Jasmine said as she wiped the thin line of perspiration that dampened her daughter’s hairline.
“I’m not hot,” Jacqueline protested. It was the look on her mother’s face that made Jacqueline wiggle onto the bench next to Mae Frances. With her eyes on Jasmine, she buried her head on the shoulder of the woman who, years before, had been nothing more than a friend of the family, but was now so close to the Bushes that Jacqueline thought of her as her grandmother. When Mae Frances put her arms around Jacqueline, the girl glared at Jasmine as if she never planned to love her again.
Jasmine shook her head, then her eyes widened when her rambunctious daughter rolled her eyes.
No, she didn’t.
Jacqueline had never done that before, and Jasmine opened her mouth to scold her, then just as quickly changed her mind. When her daughter peeked back at her, Jasmine rolled
her
eyes. Jacqueline giggled, and Jasmine laughed, too. But when Jacqueline moved to get up again, Jasmine stared her back down.
Jacqueline pouted and bounced hard against the back of the bench, but the silent tantrum didn’t faze Jasmine. She planned to let her four-year-old (or fourteen-year-old, depending on the day) sit and think about how she’d run off.
“Are you ready to go home?” Mae Frances grumbled.
As Christmas Muzak piped through speakers above, Jasmine realized this trip to the mall wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. But how could she have missed this day? The new Harlem
mall had been open for only two weeks, and this was the first big shopping day of the season; she had to make her own contribution to Black Friday.
Now as she looked at Mae Frances and Jacqueline—a set of ornery twins, with their arms folded and their lips poked out—she wished she had thought this all the way through. Because if she had, she would have come alone.
“I wanna go home, too!” Jacqueline exclaimed, as if she was in charge of something.
Looking at her son, Jasmine shook her head. “You don’t want to go home, do you, Zaya?” she asked, calling him by the name that Jacqueline had given to him two years ago when he had been born. Hosea had been too difficult for her to say, and no one wanted to call him Junior.
“No, no, no!” Zaya followed his mother’s lead before he toddled over to his sister. “Yaki, Yaki, Yaki!” He called her by his own made-up name.
Mae Frances sucked her teeth and tightened the collar of the thirty-five-year-old mink that she loved. “Don’t make no kind of sense, the way you manipulate that boy.”
“He’s my baby. He’s supposed to be manipulated.”
“Get away from me, Zaya!” Jacqueline exclaimed, and pushed the toddler away.
“Don’t do that to your brother,” Jasmine scolded.
Jacqueline stood up, put one hand on her side as if she had hips, and, with the other, squeezed her nose. “He! Stinks!”
Jasmine sniffed, then hoisted her son up into her arms. “Your sister’s right.” She grabbed the diaper bag from the stroller and reached for Jacqueline’s hand. “Come on, we’ve got to change Zaya’s diaper.”
Jacqueline folded her arms and sat back down next to Mae Frances. “I don’t wanna go.” With a pout, she pointed toward the pet store. “I wanna see the puppies.”
“We’ll see the puppies after,” Jasmine said, still reaching for her daughter.
“Leave her with me.” Mae Frances put her arms around Jacqueline. “No need for her to have to go with you when I’m here.”
Jasmine’s hesitation waned after just a moment. “Stay right there next to Nama,” she demanded sternly. “And then we’ll go see the puppies, okay?”
Jacqueline nodded as she scooted back on the bench. With wide eyes and an even wider smile, she blew Jasmine a kiss. “I love you, Mama.”
Jasmine laughed. Her precious little girl—always the drama queen.
Inside the restroom, Jasmine twisted through the long line of waiting women, and as she made her way to the changing station, her cell phone rang. But just as she pulled her phone from her bag, it stopped.
She glanced at the screen. “That was your daddy,” she told her son as she laid him on his back.
He giggled and reached for her cell.
