Sins of the Mother (26 page)

She marched back toward the conference room with a new resolve. She wasn’t the whiny, jealous type. Never had been, never would be. She just needed to quit it. Get in there and suck it up. If anyone could do it, she could.

Then she walked into the room. And stopped. And stood. And watched. Yet again, Brian had his arms around Jasmine, and Jasmine was weeping into his shoulder. Milking it!

It was enough. It was too much.

She whipped around and bumped right into Hosea. With just a quick glance at his face, she could see that he’d just observed the same scene. Taking her hand, he led her into the hallway to a bench that she’d passed a moment ago, supposedly with a new attitude.

She sat next to Hosea, silent for a moment, until she asked, “How do you take it?”

He gave her a small sigh and a slight shrug. “Jasmine and Brian are just sharing a common pain.”

That’s all he said, but Alexis heard much more: that Jasmine and Brian had a common pain and now a bond that neither she nor Hosea would ever be able to share with them.

She said, “You know, Brian and I just got back together.”

Hosea’s eyebrows rose. “Really? I didn’t know that you two had broken up.”

“It was more than broken; it was done. Brian and I are divorced.”

“Wow.”

“But recently we’ve been trying to work it out.” She paused. “I really think he’s the man God wants for me.”

Hosea took her hand and squeezed it. “Well, if that’s the case, you’ll find your way back to each other.”

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to make it . . . now.”

There was more quiet between them until Hosea said, “This shouldn’t tear you apart.” A pause. “It should bring you closer together.”

Her head tilted. Again she heard it—more behind his words. This time, she wondered if he was even talking to her.

He said, “We should get in there.”

She nodded, but neither of them moved.

“Don’t give up,” Hosea said. “There’s nothing going on with Jasmine and Brian.” He paused, stared at the blank wall in front of them. “Nothing. Nothing.” It sounded kind of like the words he’d used at the end of his sermon this morning, “Amen and Amen.”

“Nothing?” Alexis hated the way she sounded. Like a whiny, jealous woman.

He turned toward her. Took her hand again. And with water in his eyes and not a bit of conviction in his voice, he whispered, “Nothing.”

And that made Alexis lower her head, close her eyes, and say inside,
God, help us all!

M
OMMY
, I’
M HOME
!

Jasmine heard those words, that voice, and she allowed them to play in her dreams over and over. Jacqueline was home, but it was who brought her that made this dream so special.

The pictures in her mind played again: Brian carrying Jacqueline. Brian saying,
I brought our little girl home.
And then Jacqueline’s voice followed.

Close to consciousness, Jasmine knew that this was not reality. But she kept her eyes closed and let the scene repeat.

Stretching, she slowly opened her eyes. But even fully awake, she wanted to stay right there in that dream.

She heard Hosea say, “I’m going to get you,” in a voice that she knew was supposed to be a scary monster, but sounded more like the Cookie Monster.

Then she heard Zaya’s giggles and the patter of his feet as he ran from his father.

Jasmine couldn’t help but smile as she snuggled back into
her pillow. This time, when she closed her eyes, all four of them were together: she, Jacqueline, Zaya . . . and Brian.

With a sigh, she pushed herself up and wiggled back against the headboard. She needed to get Brian out of her head. But when he was around, she always felt so good, always felt such hope. Brian’s talk was all about finding Jacqueline. He wasn’t preparing for, wasn’t thinking about, any kind of future without her. Statistics didn’t matter to him. The number of days that had passed didn’t count. All Brian could see was that, one day, their daughter would be back.

Why couldn’t we have been like this before?

Jasmine still remembered the days when there had not been a pleasant word exchanged between the two of them. Only the sex had been civil. But it was different now—there was nothing but kindness and caring and . . . love.

There. She admitted it. This felt like love to her. And she had no doubt that Brian felt the same way. She could tell by the way he was by her side—always, with a special word, with so much encouragement, and with his shoulder on which she could lean or cry. Yes, he had to be feeling the same way. He had to be feeling the love.

Actually, if she thought about it, they had probably always been in love. That’s why they couldn’t stay away from each other. That’s why they always ended up in bed. That’s why they’d kissed even after she and Hosea were married—when they were in L.A. and Brian found out about Jacqueline’s paternity. Jasmine sighed now as she remembered that day. If her ex–best friend Kyla Blake hadn’t walked into Brian’s office, Jasmine had no doubt that she and Brian would’ve been on the floor, or on the desk, or leaning out the window making a sibling for Jacqueline.

So it had never been about just lust, and it was a relief to know that now.

But there was a problem—Alexis!

Jasmine couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought a moment about Alexis until two days ago when she’d walked into that center. She’d almost had a heart attack when she’d looked up and into the eyes of her nemesis—the woman she’d hated for more than twenty years.

But even with Alexis there, Brian hadn’t changed, and it made Jasmine wonder,
What was Alexis’s game?
She said she wanted to help, but Jasmine wasn’t fooled. Alexis couldn’t stand her and had proven it yesterday. Sunday, she’d been civil, even on the verge of kind. But when she and Brian had walked into the center on Monday, after Alexis said, “Hello,” Jasmine could have counted the number of words she’d spoken to her on one hand and had fingers left over.

No, Alexis may have said she was there to help, but she was there for another reason. And after thinking about it all night, Jasmine knew what it was—Alexis was there to get Brian.

Jasmine had figured it out when she peeped that neither one of them was wearing a wedding band. They must’ve broken up, maybe even divorced. Yeah, divorce!

And Alexis must’ve chased Brian all the way to the East Coast with the goal of getting him back. Well, that wasn’t going to happen, not right now. Just like Hosea had to understand, Alexis would have to chill, too. This situation was all about her and Brian and their daughter. Everything and everyone would have to wait until Jacqueline was home. And even after that, it was up for grabs . . . if Brian loved her . . .

“Love Mama!” Zaya rushed into her bedroom, scattering her thoughts. He jumped onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Jasmine’s neck.

“I love you, too, baby. Good morning.”

“Yaki?”

Jasmine looked up and saw Hosea standing in the door, his
arms folded, his eyes sad at their son’s question. Zaya didn’t mention Jacqueline much, but in recent days, he’d asked about his sister more and more.

With her eyes on her husband, she hugged Zaya. “Jacquie’s away.”

“Away?”

Still she looked at Hosea, and he nodded, telling her to continue. She said, “Yes, but Jacquie’s coming home soon.”

“Comin’ home?”

Hosea was still nodding, still looking at her. “Yes, soon,” she said to her son.

Now Zaya giggled. “Love Mama.”

From where he stood, Hosea said, “Son, that’s something that you and I have in common.” As he strolled into their bedroom, he added, “I love Mama, too.” Hosea held Jasmine in his arms and squeezed her as if he planned never to let go.

His touch could always do this—make blood rush from her toes to her head. And she felt it now—the rush! And truth—she wanted it, she wanted him.

The problem was . . . she wanted Brian even more.

Jasmine busted into the center as if she were the police. With a quick scope of the place, she saw that Brian wasn’t there.

Where is he?

He had to come soon because in two hours she’d be leaving to take Zaya to his pediatrician’s appointment. In the past, this was something Mrs. Sloss would have done. But not anymore.

She’d had to let Zaya go to church with Hosea because she didn’t have a way to stop him. But besides that, no one else was ever going to be responsible for her children.

So that meant Brian needed to come quickly. With everything
that had been on her mind, she had to see him. Had to talk to him. Had to make sure that he felt what she felt.

“Have you seen Brian?” Jasmine asked Keith.

“Nah, I was hoping that he and
his wife
would be here.”

The way Keith said “his wife” and grinned made Jasmine roll her eyes. Why did every man react that way to Alexis? She’d never been able to figure out what was so special about that woman.

He said, “I was hoping Brian and Alexis could help us with these. We could use the extra hands.” Keith held up the oversize poster board.

It was the same photo of Jacqueline, under the same MISSING banner, and with the same telephone number beneath the picture. But now the background was bright red.

“These just came in, and we’re going out in teams, putting a bunch up here in Harlem and all through the city. And Hosea even wants us mailing some out.”

She nodded but turned away. Every time she saw that photo, her constant ache intensified.

She grabbed her cell phone and punched in Brian’s number as fast as she could. When he answered, she breathed. “Brian, are you on your way to the center?”

“Ah, not yet. Why? Did something—”

“No,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing new, it’s just that,” she lowered her voice, “I really need to see you.”

“What’s up?”

She frowned. She didn’t want to talk about this on the phone. She needed him—right here, right now. “There are new posters for Jacquie.”

“Yeah, I know. I helped Keith design them.”

That surprised her—Brian was working on things that she didn’t even know about, all to find their daughter. “Well, seeing
them . . . it just brings back everything. Brian, I miss her so much. Do you think she’s safe?”

His voice got softer. “Yes, she’s safe, Jasmine. And we’re going to find her.”

Jasmine nodded, repeating his words in her mind. “So when are you going to get here?”

“I’m in the middle of something right now.”

She clutched the phone tighter; she could just imagine what that middle was all about. Still she pressed, “I need to see you, and I have to take Zaya to the doctor and . . .” She stopped, waited for him to say, Okay, I’ll be right there.

Instead, he said, “Well, I’m not sure of my schedule. If I can, I’ll call you back later.”

Then he hung up. As if there was something more important than being with her.

She held the phone in her hand, just staring. What she wanted to do was throw it across the room, watch it crash into a million pieces. But with just a few deep breaths, she calmed down.

Don’t get upset. He’s coming.

Of course, he would be there; he’d never let her down. He just couldn’t say it because Alexis was there, probably staring down his throat, listening to every word.

Or maybe she
wasn’t
there. Maybe they’d had an argument. Maybe he’d told Alexis his true feelings and sent her home.

Yes, that made more sense—he’d probably told Alexis that she had no place in his life, at least not right now. Maybe he was just making sure that she got on that plane. And right after that, he’d be on his way to the center to see her.

With that scenario in her mind, Jasmine settled down in the chair that had become hers. Now that she didn’t have to worry about Alexis, she could get to work. She would fold
more flyers, stuff more envelopes. Maybe she and Brian would even go out together and hang some of those posters. She wouldn’t have even thought about doing that twenty minutes ago. But with Brian by her side, she could do anything.

She glanced at her watch and at the same time said a prayer to God that Brian would get there soon.

A
LEXIS BURIED HERSELF DEEP INSIDE
the pages of the
New York Times.
But her eyes weren’t focused. Instead, her ears stood at attention, concentrating completely on Brian’s words.

When his phone had rung just a few minutes before, Alexis had presumed the call was from Jasmine. It was barely nine, so no one from Los Angeles would be calling this early. And the way Brian had glanced at the screen on his cell, then pushed himself away from the breakfast table that room service had rolled in, confirmed her guess.

Now, listening to just one side of the conversation, she knew what this call was about.

I need you, Brian! Help!

That’s what she imagined Jasmine was saying in her best mother-in-distress voice. Hearing Brian having to explain that he was in the middle of something confirmed for Alexis that what she’d decided to do was the right thing.

It had come to her yesterday while they were at the center, during one of those moments when Jasmine was all over
Brian once again, crying as if her tears sprang from an ever-flowing faucet. It wasn’t that Alexis couldn’t empathize and sympathize—it was just that she hated Brian always being the prince. Where? Was? Hosea?

That was when she knew she didn’t have enough heart to stand this, to do this, and she’d planned to tell Brian that last night. But they’d returned to the hotel, both emotionally exhausted: Brian, exhausted from Jasmine; and Alexis, from the calls she’d taken—many from sick fools who took pleasure in others’ tragedies.

So they’d fallen asleep, so tired that they hadn’t even had dinner. And now, as she listened to Jasmine through Brian’s responses, she knew that not only had she made the right decision, but she needed to act today, before she fell into this relationship any deeper.

When Brian hung up, she stayed still, not turning to look at him. But with just a slight twist, she said over her shoulder, “I’m going home.”