A Sin and a Shame (20 page)

“Ms. Larson?”

Tell him to go away, Jasmine.
“He’s a doctor.” As soon as she spoke those senseless words, she realized they weren’t much of an explanation. Her doorman had already seen her with Brian. “Send him up,” she added in a whisper.

The self-berating began the moment she hung up.
Why did I do that?
she asked as she paced.

She decided that all she would do was ask questions—find out what he wanted, why he was there—and then she’d send him back to his wife.

The moment she heard the elevator, she opened her door, making sure Mae Frances did not see her visitor.

Brian swaggered into her apartment as if he was supposed to be there.

“What do you want?” she asked the moment she closed her door.

He faced her with a grin. “Like you don’t know.”

She breathed deeply, initiating the fight within. “You don’t need to be here.”

“I know. But I’ve discovered that my needs and my wants are usually the same.” As if he had an invitation, he settled onto her couch and loosened his tie. “Nice place. I didn’t get a chance to check it out last time.” He stretched his arms along the sofa.

“Where’s your wife?”

“At a meeting.”

“Why aren’t you at the hotel waiting for her?”

“Because I wanted to see you.”

“Don’t tell me the great Alexis isn’t taking good care of her man,” she said, enjoying for the moment the fact that she could have Alexis’s husband anytime she wanted him.

“Oooh, your claws are showing, Jasmine.”

His leer reminded her that she was covered only in a thigh-long T-shirt. “I want you to go,” she said, regaining her resolve.

He chuckled. “If you didn’t want me here, why did you invite me up?”

“It wasn’t an invitation. I just wanted to know what you wanted.”

His face stretched with seriousness. “You want to know what I want?” He stood, moved toward her.

Jasmine backed up until she was pressed against the door. He leaned forward, one hand above her, setting his trap. “Remember last time?” he whispered. “This is exactly where I took you.”

She inhaled, took in his scent. Closed her eyes, remembered. “No,” she panted more to herself than him. “I…I…can’t do this.”

“Why not?” His tongue tickled her ear.

She tried to breathe in some sense, but longing, lust, dragged her away. Every muscle betrayed her, responding instantly to his touch. His hands, his lips took her hostage again. Took her away from what she knew was right. Made her do wrong.

This time, she was the aggressor. Ripped his shirt from his chest. By the time they backed into her bedroom, he was naked. She pushed him onto her bed and didn’t bother removing her T-shirt. Just took him as she was. Every emotion—anger, fear, desire—erupted inside. She blocked out his chuckles. Tried to ignore his mocking words.

“I thought you didn’t want this.”

She
didn’t
want him. She needed him.

The telephone rang, but she was helpless to answer it. The more she had of him, the more she wanted.

She shrieked when they connected. Cursed him when he wouldn’t stop. Begged him when he slowed down.

She didn’t know if minutes—or hours—had passed when the phone rang again. But still, there was nothing she could do, except take him.

She rolled from the bed and pulled the T-shirt over her head. Tossed it across the room. He smiled with admiration as she stood, exposed before him. But she didn’t appreciate his approval.

As they joined again, her body left her mind. Her body drank in the pleasure. Her mind gave into the pain. She tried to think about the man she loved, but she could barely remember his name.

The phone interrupted them again. And again. Finally, she grabbed it, wanting to demand that the caller stop trespassing. But when she put the phone to her ear, the voice took her breath away.

“Jasmine, are you there?” Reverend Bush said.

She pushed Brian off her. “Reverend Bush.”

“Hosea asked me to call you. He’s in the hospital.”

“What?” She struggled to move between the tangled sheets. “Is he all right?” She trembled as she yelled into the phone.

“Jasmine, calm down. Hosea’s fine. It’s serious, but he’s fine. We’re at Harlem Hospital.”

“I’ll be right there.” She slammed the handset onto the bed.

“I guess I’ll have to get going,” Brian said.

He startled her; she’d forgotten he was there. But she didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t.

“What’s up?” he said as she rushed to her closet.

“My…friend is in the hospital,” she said, grabbing a pair of jeans.

“So, you want me to leave?”

She paused, looked at him as if he had two heads. “Yes,” she began slowly. “Leave. Now.”

He shrugged. “Would you mind if I took a shower?”

She wanted to curse him out. “Brian, get out of my house,” she hissed.

“You weren’t saying that a few minutes ago.”

Her silence was his clue.

“Fine,” he said and then moved as if he had nothing but time. “Can I at least use your bathroom?” He didn’t wait for her response. Just slipped into his pants and strolled into the lavatory.

Jasmine paced outside the door, and willed him to move faster. Willed herself to stay composed so she could get to Hosea.

Within a minute, she banged on the door. The toilet flushed, water ran, and then he strolled out as if she wasn’t in the middle of a crisis.

“I guess I’ll be going.”

She said nothing. Escorted him to the door. He paused, leaned over as if he wanted to kiss her. She turned away.

“Catch ya later.”

The first tear came the moment she slammed the door. When she scurried toward her bedroom, her cries were faster. With everything in her, she wanted to get to the man she loved. But Hosea would have to wait.

She rushed into the bathroom, turned the Hot knob to full blast, and then shrieked under the heat of the shower’s water. The man she loved would have to wait until she burned another man’s scent off her skin.

Jasmine dashed past the
information desk, and security guard, then navigated through the halls of Harlem Hospital.

On the eleventh floor, the nurse’s station directed her to Room 1127. She took a deep breath before she entered.

“Hey, darlin’,” Hosea said the moment she opened the door. His voice was weak, but his eyes were alert, wide, smiling.

As she’d dressed and then offered a cab driver double to get her to the hospital in ten minutes, she had imagined every scenario that could take Hosea away from her.

But although he was prostrate, dressed in a hospital gown and covered with a thin infirmary sheet, there was little else to indicate that anything was wrong.

“Hey,” she spoke softly. She nodded at Reverend Bush, who sat on the other side of the bed. “What happened?” she asked Hosea.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. It may not look like it, but I’m fine.” With his thumb, he gently wiped away a single tear that she didn’t even realize had spilled down her cheek. “It could’ve been serious, but like always, God just did His thing.”

Reverend Bush stood. “I’m going to get some coffee. I’ll be right back, but take it slow, son,” he said, although he looked at Jasmine. “Remember what the doctor said.”

Neither looked at the reverend as he strolled from the room. Jasmine laid down her jacket and purse and then eased onto the edge of the bed.

“What happened?”

“I’ll shorten this story. Seems I had a blood clot in my leg that traveled to my lungs.”

“Oh my God.”

“But they caught it. Said I was lucky but I told them luck had nothing to do with it.”

“Are they sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yup. I’m doped up right now to stop these chest pains. And I’ve gotta stay until the clot dissolves, but that’s about it.”

“How did you get a blood clot?”

He hesitated. “After talking to the doctor, Pops and I figured that it’s probably genetic. That’s the way my mom died.”

“Please don’t talk about dying, Hosea,” she said as more tears came. “I don’t want to do this without you.”

He took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere, darlin’. I plan on being here, with you, for a long time.”

She blinked back more tears. “I was so scared. So worried.”

“Don’t worry. Just pray.”

“I was afraid that I would lose you,” she said.

“I had the same thought as they rolled me in here. All I could think about was I didn’t want to go anywhere—not just yet. I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“Oh, you won’t, sweetie.”

“Jasmine.”

She frowned when he said nothing more. “What is it? Are you in pain?”

He shook his head. “Help me to push this up.”

She found the button on the side of the bed.

“I need to talk to you.” He took her hand. “When I was on staff at Crystal Lake, one thing that bugged me was that people waited until tragedy hit before they squared their business. Never made any sense to me, until now.” He looked down at their hands clasped together. “I’ve turned into one of those people because when I thought that I might die, and I would never see you on this earth again, I knew I had to get moving.”

“Moving?” Jasmine started to shake. Was he talking about going back to Chicago?

“Jasmine, it’s time for us to make this permanent. We know what we want and more importantly, we know what God wants. So, what are we waiting for? It’s time for us…”

She held her breath.

“I love you, Jasmine. And I want us to…get hitched.” He laughed, then coughed.

“Take it easy,” she said, resting her hand on his chest.

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

Although his eyes sparkled, Jasmine wasn’t sure if he meant what he was saying. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“What kind of medication are you on?”

He laughed. “I’m sober enough to know that I want you.”

Still she wondered about the drugs. Or was it the stress that came with being rushed to the hospital. “This just doesn’t seem like the right time,” she said, then asked herself why she was trying to talk him out of it. This was the prize.

“Jasmine, I’ve known for a while that you were going to be my wife. I suspected it from the moment we met. But I knew it when you ate those hot dogs with me. Anyone who would do that knows how to go with the flow.” He laughed, but turned serious. “This has been in my heart for a long time. Now, it’s traveled to my head so my lips could move and say the right words.”

This was the moment she’d worked for. But she couldn’t find joy when she thought about how—on this day—she’d given her body to another man.

That thought brought tears to her heart, and her eyes.

“Ah, darlin’, I hope you’re not crying because you’re about to tell me no.”

She shook her head. “No way. I would love to be your wife.” She sobbed.

He pulled her into his arms, hugging her. “I can’t say this is the reaction I expected, but as long as you’re saying yes, I’ll take what I can get.”

She tried to chuckle. “Yes,” she said. “Definitely, I want to marry you.”

“Well, now.”

Neither had noticed that Reverend Bush was back; Jasmine leaned away from Hosea and wiped her tears.

“Pops, I guess it’s you. The first one to know that this incredible woman is making me put a ring on her finger.”

Reverend Bush kept his smile, and Jasmine hoped that was all Hosea saw. She hoped he didn’t see the reservation that clouded his father’s eyes.

The reverend stepped to the bed. Glanced at Jasmine, then said to his son, “Congratulations. If this is what you want.”

Hosea frowned. “Come on, Pops, don’t hold back all your cheer. I’d thought you’d be a little more excited.”

“This just seems sudden.”

His frown deepened. “You’ve known my intentions with Jasmine all along.”

Jasmine knew the reverend wasn’t concerned with his son’s intentions. It was hers that he questioned.

“Yes,” the reverend agreed. “But I didn’t think you’d do this now.” His eyes glanced around the room. “In this place.”

“Pops, this is the best place. And the best time.” He held out his hand, reaching for Jasmine. “And the best woman.” When she clasped her fingers through his, he added, “Sometimes God will put you in a place where you have to make a move. It wasn’t until I was lying here that I realized I needed to step up. I’m happy, Pops. Jasmine makes me happy.”

She spoke to the reverend but looked into Hosea’s eyes. “And Hosea makes me happy.”

Reverend Bush stared at Jasmine for a moment. “That’s a good thing. Congratulations, then.” He shook his son’s hand and then hesitated before he wrapped his arms around Jasmine. “I wish you all the best,” he said, after pulling away from their quick embrace.