Sins of the Mother (35 page)

Over his shoulder, Hosea said, “Pops, come with us.”

Reverend Bush nodded, then gave a reassuring glance to the others, who stood in a semicircle holding hands as if they were about to pray.

In less than a minute, they were inside an office at the end of the hall.

“Please have a seat, Mrs. Bush.” Jasmine folded her arms, shook her head. “I’m not trying to be rude,” she said, hearing the trembling in her voice. “But I don’t understand why this can’t wait until after I see Jacquie.”

“I understand your anxiety.” The doctor nodded. “But I need to let you know what to expect.”

Her hands fell to her sides. What did he mean by that?

“My daughter . . .”

The doctor held up his hands. “She’s alive, but she’s been . . .”

Jasmine inhaled a loud audible breath.

He said, “She has experienced trauma.”

“What does that mean?” Hosea barked.

The sound of his voice scared Jasmine a bit. Made her forget about her own anxiety. She reached out for Hosea, but he would not take her hand. His fingers had curled into fists.

The doctor looked at Detective Foxx, and, with a nod to the doctor, Detective Foxx stepped in front of them.

He said, “For the most part, Jacquie is fine, but she was—”

“Molested,” Jasmine whispered.

The detective took a breath. “She was raped,” he said with a slight quiver in his voice. “Most likely, repeatedly.”

Gasps filled the room, though it was Jasmine’s cries that were the loudest. “My baby. She’s not even five!”

This time, it was the doctor who spoke. “Unfortunately, we’ve seen this before . . . too many times. But she’s being tested and treated—”

“For what?” Jasmine asked.

“Sexually transmitted diseases—”

“Oh, God!”

“AIDS.”

Jasmine wanted to put her hands over her ears. There was no way she could listen to any more of this. But still, she asked, “Who would do this to my baby?”

“We have him in custody,” the detective said. “I won’t go into all the details now, but we got an anonymous call from someone who said that they had the building under surveillance
and that if the police didn’t come immediately, they were going in themselves to get Jacqueline.”

“Who called?” Reverend Bush asked.

Detective Foxx shrugged; it was clear he didn’t know. But Jasmine did—one of Mae Frances’s connections. Probably Sonny, the dealer.

“We have the man in custody,” the detective continued, “and he won’t be going anywhere. Turns out he’s a fugitive. There’s a warrant for his arrest in Arizona. He’s got a record . . . for this kind of thing. I don’t know how he got away.”

“Oh, my God,” Jasmine cried while Hosea stood silent.

“But we think,” the doctor quickly interjected, “that she’s going to be fine . . . physically.”

Jasmine spun around and away from the doctor. “I want to see my daughter,” she yelled. She swung open the door and rushed into the hallway. If she had to, she would go from room to room and find her herself.

“Mrs. Bush, wait,” the doctor called out. “I’ll take you now.”

She turned around and glared at him; a “you’d better” look was all over her face. Before she could protest more, the doctor was by her side.

His strides were long, but she kept up, her thoughts only on seeing Jacqueline. It didn’t matter what had happened—her daughter was home. And she would take care of her. She would make sure that Jacquie was fine.

When the doctor stopped in front of the hospital room, Jasmine took a deep breath. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she reached for Hosea’s hand. But he wasn’t there.

She glanced to the left, then to the right. “Where’s Hosea?” she asked her father-in-law.

He looked from side to side, too. Frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe he went with Detective Foxx.”

That didn’t make sense. How could he want to talk to the police instead of seeing Jacqueline? Wasn’t seeing his daughter more important than anything?

But she wasn’t about to stand there, figuring this out. She wasn’t about to stop and search for him—not when she was this close to Jacqueline.

So she reached for Reverend Bush’s hand instead, and together they followed the doctor into the room.

L
OS
A
NGELES
, C
ALIFORNIA

D
ECEMBER
2009

“Y
EAH, SEND HER BACK
.” B
RIAN
dropped the phone into the cradle and grinned, wishing that he’d come up with this strategy sooner. All the money he’d spent on flowers, all the time he’d spent tracking his ex-wife down—it seemed like not a bit of that had been necessary.

Not that he regretted it—he would buy Alexis every flower in America if he could. It was just that that effort had done nothing.

But this—ignoring her—this had worked instantly. There had never been a time since their separation, then divorce, when Alexis had contacted him this much. First Saturday, then Monday, and now today. Sure, it was Wednesday, but all of their contact had been initiated by her—this was huge.

Laughing out loud, he adjusted the papers on his desk, making it look like he was in the middle of something serious,
then placed a yellow pad right in front of him. When he heard the light knock on his door, he quickly slid on his reading glasses, grabbed a pen, and lowered his head.

“Come on in,” he said, keeping his eyes down.

Alexis peeked into his office. “Brian?” She said his name as if she wasn’t sure whether she should step inside.

He glanced up. “Oh,” he said, like he hadn’t been expecting her.

She frowned a bit. “I thought the receptionist told you that I was here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving her inside, then looked down at the yellow pad in front of him. He slowly wrote his name, then just as slowly slipped off his glasses before he looked back up at her.

He was careful to keep his eyes on her eyes, but it wasn’t easy. Even without letting his glance roam, he could see way too much of her in that belted coat that flaunted all her curves.

He shook his head. What he’d always loved about Alexis was that her mind was so sharp and her heart was so loving—those inner qualities far eclipsed her outer beauty. But that outer beauty? That was some good stuff that could not be denied.

“What’s up?” he said, deciding not even to offer her a seat.

She stood in front of his desk, confusion suddenly all over her face. “I just . . . wanted to stop by and tell you that I saw Crime Stoppers last night.”

You had to stop by for that?
He said, “Yeah, they came through. They’re gonna do something more extensive on Sunday. But last night was a great start.”

“It was,” she said, still standing, still looking as if she was waiting for an invitation to sit down. “Has anything happened yet? Any new leads?”

He shrugged. “I spoke to Hosea last night after he saw the show.”

“What did they think?”

“He thought it was good.” Brian left out the part about Jasmine, how Hosea had said that Jasmine hadn’t seen the show. He’d thought that was beyond strange, but he wasn’t about to ask the man any questions about his wife. Brian added, “I’m sure I’ll hear something from him today. The phones should start ringing.”

Alexis nodded. “I hope this helps. We’ve got to get that little girl back home.”

“We?” He raised a single eyebrow to show her that he was surprised. To show her that he no longer considered her part of his inner circle.

“Yeah, we!” she exclaimed. She paused, and added, “I mean you. No, I mean we. I want to help, too, Brian. We’re friends, so anything that I can do to help I want to do.”

He had to fight to stop it—the smile that he felt rising from his lips. A smile wouldn’t work right now, didn’t go along with his new persona. So he paused until he was sure that he could hold it back. Then, “All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll keep you posted.” He picked up his pen, looked down at the pad again as if what was on that paper was far more important than talking to her.

His glance away was for only a second, but when he looked at her again, Alexis’s face had already changed. Her eyes were squinted. Her lips were pinched together. Her nose was scrunched like she smelled something nasty. She was a storm brewing.

Again, it was a battle to hold back his smile. “I’ll see ya,” he said.

“What is wrong with you, Brian!” she blew up.

He frowned. “What?”

“You’re acting like I’m bothering you or something.”

He stood, walked around the desk.

She continued, “I’m trying to be a friend, and you’re treating me like—”

“I’m treating you like you’ve been treating me?”

Her mouth opened wide, but then shut tight.

“That’s what you mean, right?” he asked, standing in front of her. “I’m treating you like I don’t want to be bothered. Like I don’t want you to be part of my life. Like being around you is so difficult.” He crossed his arms. Leaned against the desk. “Yup, I’m treating you just like you treated me.”

“I did not!” she said, her teeth clenched.

“Oh, yeah,” he said coolly. “Think about it, Alexis. This is the way you’ve been treating me since we were divorced.”

“So that’s what this is? A game? You’re getting back at me?”

He held up his hands. “Oh, no. Trust me, this is no game. I’m not playing. ’Cause,” he said, now moving closer to her, “I don’t play when it comes to you.” As he moved, she did, too. Away from him. He said, “I’m very clear on what I want. And what I want is you.”

She was still backing away. “No.” But it was only a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I told you—all I have inside of me is friendship, and that should be enough.”

“I want more than that.”

“This is not only about you, Brian!” Her fury was back. “This is about what I want, too. And I don’t want to go backward.”

“See, that’s your problem.” His words paused, but he kept moving, moving. “I never asked you to go backward.” He waved his hand, as if he were wiping away all that was behind them. “I’ve only asked you to look to the future, and go forward . . . with me.”

She was pinned against the wall now, barely an inch separated
them. “Let’s go forward,” he whispered, his lips right in front of hers. “Together.”

Her voice was as low as his. “No,” she said. She swallowed. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I’m scared.”

“No need.” With the tips of his fingers, he lifted her chin so that she had to look right at him. “I’ll never hurt you again,” he vowed.

She gazed at him, considering his words for a moment. “But there’s no way either one of us can be sure that I won’t be hurt again.”

“You’re right.”

Her eyes widened, like that was not the response she had expected.

He continued, “I can’t guarantee anything. But I can tell you the truth—and that is that I love you. And in all these years that we’ve been apart, all I’ve been thinking about, all I’ve been doing, is trying to make my way back to you.”

Now he waited. Brian could see it in her eyes, the way she was calculating her emotions and adding up their past.

And as she counted the cost, he panicked. Maybe he’d revealed his plan too quickly. Maybe he should have just let her walk out of the office today—kept her off kilter, stewing, and wondering for another few days, maybe even another week.

Well, it was too late to second-guess. He was out there—he’d played his hand. And if Alexis decided not to join in now, it was over. For real this time. Because now she knew his trick, and she’d never be fooled again.

“I . . . ,” she started, but stopped. Shook her head.

He could feel his heartbeat.
I blew it.
She wasn’t ready to do the right thing, and now he was going to lose her. He leaned
in closer. Looked into her eyes and saw all of her pain of their past. All of her fear of their future.

She was going to tell him no.

But he wasn’t ready to lose. So he turned to what was left in his arsenal—their connection, their emotional umbilical cord. They were life for each other.

But Alexis didn’t know that—she only felt it. So Brian knew that he had to show her.

He had to lean only a little—and aim his lips toward hers. He let them touch, just barely. This was going to be a slow seduction, one that she would never forget.

Now he moved his lips from side to side, grazing hers. And he kept his eyes on her eyes. But his hands were still at his sides.

Now, his tongue . . . and then the phone shrilled. It sounded like an alarm, startling both of them.

Inside, Brian cursed. If he backed away, Alexis would do the same. So he didn’t move.

The phone rang again. And again.

And because the show had aired last night, he thought about Jacqueline.

But it was Alexis who was in front of him now. With her lips on his.

Another ring, and more thoughts of his daughter.

He cursed again and made a decision.

Backing away from Alexis, he dashed for the telephone. As he grabbed it, he glanced over his shoulder.

Alexis stood stiffly against the wall. But he saw it—the relief that washed over her.

That was when he knew that he’d lost—it was over.

He wanted to curse again. Damn whoever was on the other end. But he picked up and heard the scream.

“Brian! My baby.” And then the sound of crackling air.

“Jasmine!” he shouted, as if that would help the cell phone signal.

“Jacquie is—”

More crackling. “Jasmine!” he yelled again.

“Home! Jacquie is home!”

And then, nothing.

He stared at the phone for a moment before he slowly turned toward Alexis. “She’s home,” he whispered. “They found her. My daughter is home.”

Neither one moved. They just stared at each other. They stood as if they were in shock. And both thought about what that call meant. For both of them.

Then, as if their thoughts had registered at the same time, they smiled simultaneously, right before Alexis ran into Brian’s arms.

N
EW
Y
ORK
, N
EW
Y
ORK