A Sin and a Shame (37 page)

M
ae Frances, I can’t let
you do this,” Jasmine said as she held up the silk christening gown.

“You don’t like it?” Mae Frances said with her hands folded in her lap.

“I love it, it’s just that—” She stopped. She’d known her neighbor for more than a year and she still couldn’t figure this out. She glanced at Mae Frances, covered in one of the three dresses she’d always seen her in, yet she’d just handed Jasmine a gown for Jacqueline that could have cost almost one hundred dollars.

“So, why can’t you accept this, Jasmine Larson?”

“It’s so…”

When Mae Frances raised one of her penciled eyebrows, Jasmine took a breath and said, “Thank you.” She lowered her eyes. “Mae Frances, do you think there is any way you can come—”

“No way,” she interrupted Jasmine. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I don’t go into anybody’s church.”

Jasmine waited for Mae Frances’s punch line, her reminder of their bet that Jasmine lost.

“Well, before we leave tomorrow, come over, and we’ll take pictures with you and Jacqueline.”

Mae Frances smiled. “That’ll be nice. So, who’s going to the church with you?”

“Just Malik and Mrs. Sloss.”

“Good. You’ve given up on the preacher man.”

Jasmine sighed. Guess her neighbor couldn’t walk away without saying anything. “Yes, Mae Frances. I’ve given up.” Jasmine sank back onto the couch. “I know this story isn’t going to have a happy ending.”

The knock made Mae Frances stand. “I’ll get that for you.” She opened the door. Gasped, then said, “What do you want?”

Jasmine turned and her mouth opened wide. “Hosea, come in,” she said, dropping the christening gown to the couch.

Mae Frances stood next to the door, her arms folded as if she had no plans to leave.

Jasmine said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mae Frances,” then escorted her into the hallway. She closed the door, turned to Hosea, and said, “This is a surprise.”

“How’s Jacqueline?”

“She’s fine. She’s in the bedroom with Mrs. Sloss.”

“Oh.” His eyes showed his disappointment.

“You can see her.”

“I want to, but actually I wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s great.” She motioned toward the couch.

“I think we should talk in private.” He paused. “Do you feel comfortable leaving her alone?”

“Sure, I do it everyday.” She called Mrs. Sloss and when the nanny walked into the living room, Jasmine made the introduction. “Mrs. Sloss, this is Jacqueline’s…this is my…this is Hosea Bush.” As she slipped into her coat, she added, “I’m going out for just a bit.”

“That’s fine, Mrs. Bush.”

The moment they stepped into the hallway, Mae Frances’s door swung open. She glared at Hosea, her face scrunched in disapproval, but Jasmine moved past her neighbor without a word.

In the elevator, it took total control to keep her focus on the doors, rather than on the way his arm brushed against hers. Or the way his fragrance filled her nostrils. Or the way she yearned to touch him, kiss him, love him.

“Let’s head over to the park,” Hosea said once they stepped outside.

Jasmine was grateful for the lamb-end of March as they strolled the blocks to Central Park. Once Hosea motioned toward a bench, they sat in silence, as cars and pedestrians rushed by at a New York City pace.

Finally Hosea pulled an envelope from his briefcase. He turned the legal size envelope over in his hands.

“My plan had been to give you this.”

She didn’t need X-ray vision to know the package didn’t contain good news.

“But I can’t give it to you. Not right now. Not yet.”

“Hosea,” she said, knowing she needed to speak quickly. “I wish I could make you believe how much I love you. Make you know just how sorry I am. How much I’ve prayed that you’ll forgive me.”

He nodded, said nothing.

She stared at the envelope. “What’s that?” she asked, feeling as if a stone sat in her throat.

“Divorce papers.”

She nodded; she’d known.

“I was actually trying to get our marriage annulled,” he said matter-of-factly.

Annulled.
As if she, their marriage, never existed. Tears came with that thought, but she pressed the emotional water back inside. Emotions would get in the way of her fight.

“I don’t want a divorce,” she said.

“Why would you?” he asked as if he thought her statement made no sense. “I haven’t given you a reason to want one.”

“I know I’ve given you reasons to leave, but I’ve also given you reasons to stay.” Tentatively, she reached across the bench, touched his arm. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t push away either. “I love you,” she said softly. “That’s one reason. And another is I think, I pray, that you still love me.” He said nothing. “And another is that in the midst of this horror, we have a beautiful baby girl.”

He nodded, let moments go by. “That’s why I’m having such a hard time with this. Because of her…and because of God.” He shook his head as if God were having a conversation with him at that moment.

She wanted to throw her arms around him, kiss him, and make him remember the way they were.

“Jasmine, if we—”

“I will do anything,” she said.

It was the first time he looked at her. “I need something from you.”

“Whatever you need.”

“I need—”

“Anything.”

“I need the truth. I need to know if there are any other lies.”

His question sucked the air from her.

He continued. “Because if we are going to make this work, I have to know.” He leaned back, as if he were trying to get a better look, trying to see inside of her. “Jasmine, is there anything else I should know? Are there any other secrets? Any other lies?”

Her mind scrolled through the stories she’d told. How he thought she was thirty-five instead of forty. How she was a woman who had never been married and not a divorcée.

Oh, God,
she thought.
You’ve given me this chance to get Hosea back.
But confessing to more lies would push him away forever.

She looked at the divorce papers he held in his hand.

Thought about Reverend Bush’s words:
Just let Jesus take the wheel.

Thought about Serena’s words:
Get rid of all of these lies and plans, and just depend on God.

Her eyes returned to the envelope that could take away all that she loved. She glanced at her husband. He looked at her with hope in his eyes. Hope for a future.

“Jasmine?”

“Are you saying you want to work this out?” Her voice trembled.

“I’m saying that I need to know the answer to this question.”

She swallowed, took a breath.
God, please, please forgive me.
“No, Hosea, there are no more lies,” she said with strength.

He exhaled relief for knowing that truth.

She inhaled regret for telling that lie.

“Okay,” he said with just a bit of buoyancy. “There’s just one more thing.”

Jasmine nodded. Nothing could be as bad as what he’d just asked. Nothing could be as bad as what she’d just done. But she kept her focus on her objective and her eyes on the envelope. She asked, “What else do you want to know?”

He took a breath. Shifted on the bench. Held the envelope tighter between his fingers. “Jacqueline’s father,” he finally said, “Who is he?”

She waited a moment, fighting back the tears that hovered beneath her lashes. “Brian. Brian Lewis.”

He frowned, squinted, as if the name was familiar. Then, his eyes widened, his mouth opened. “Brian. From California,” he spoke as if he were reading a résumé. “The one who was sitting at our table when you fainted. The one who helped me get you into the ambulance. The one who said he’d come from California to New York to see you.”

“No!” She shook her head. “I didn’t know he was going to be there. I hadn’t seen him since the day…since before we were engaged.” When he looked at her through thin eyes, she said, “Hosea, he doesn’t even know he’s her father, because to me, you are.”

He shook his head. Looked straight at her. “Brian. Brian Lewis.” And then he laughed. Threw his head back and guffawed as if he had never heard anything so ridiculous. “I can’t believe this mess.” Suddenly, the laughter stopped. “You made a big mistake, Jasmine.” His tone was ominous. “You got it twisted. Confused my compassion and morals for being soft.”

“No, I never thought—”

He spoke over her words. “You must have thought that because I wanted to be celibate, I wasn’t a real man.”

“No,” she cried, even as passing pedestrians slowed to view the unfolding drama.

He stood, towered over her. “Jasmine, let me ask you this, what do you call a woman who marries one man while carrying the child of another?”

She sobbed.

He looked at her as if he were repulsed by all that he saw. Then, he backed away. Tossed the enveloped toward her and without another word, walked up Central Park West.

Jasmine was bolted to the bench, her tears falling freely now. She stayed as he moved, stayed as he never looked back, stayed as he walked farther and farther until she could see him no more.

She looked down at the envelope that was now wet with her tears.

This was worse than her dream.

C
ome on in, Jasmine
,” Reverend Bush greeted her as she stepped into the office. “Where’s Jacqueline?”

“She’s with Mrs. Sloss and Malik. They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. I thought it best if she came right before the ceremony; they’re trying to get her to sleep because if she doesn’t, I don’t know what she’ll do.”

Reverend Bush motioned for Jasmine to have a seat. “It won’t matter what she does. That’s what’s so wonderful about baby dedications. It’s where the sacred and the mundane collide.”

Jasmine tried to chuckle, but her eyes roamed to the package she held. “Reverend Bush, before we get started, I saw Hosea last night.” She paused, tried to squeeze from her mind the vision of the way he looked at her. “He gave me this.”

Reverend Bush nodded as he took the package. As if he already knew the contents. “I’m sorry, Jasmine,” and he sounded as if he really was. “I was hoping Hosea could find a way—”

“But he couldn’t.” Her heart still cried, but her eyes didn’t. There were no tears left. She’d cried them all yesterday as she sat on the park bench long after Hosea had gone, and the tears were still with her when she rushed back into her apartment. Mrs. Sloss had wrung her hands, not knowing if she should comfort Jasmine or Jacqueline.

Through the night, and into this morning, her cries continued. The emotional water didn’t stop until noon—didn’t stop until she accepted that she was going to be a divorced woman—once more.

“I’m sorry, Jasmine,” the reverend said again, as if he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

She nodded. “There’s one thing. Today, in the ceremony,” she swallowed, “please call the baby, Jacqueline…Larson.” She took a deep breath. “Her name has to be Jacqueline Elizabeth Larson.”

The reverend frowned.

“In those papers,” she nodded toward the envelope, “Hosea says that he wants no legal or financial responsibility for her.” She paused as tears that she was sure were no longer there pressed toward her eyes. “So, I’m going to have her name changed to Larson. And mine, as well.”

The reverend sighed. “I want you to know that I will do everything I can for you and Jacqueline.” He added, “Maybe in time, you’ll even come back to services here.”

Jasmine smiled, although she knew she wouldn’t be doing that. “I appreciate all you’ve done, Reverend Bush. Especially after all of this.”

The reverend held up his hands. “You know, one of my favorite sermons is about grace and mercy and how we all survive in this world only because God has decided to give them both to us. I can’t say you were my favorite person in the beginning. But God helped me to see the better parts of you.” He shrugged. “If we all did that—just searched for the good, instead of expecting the bad—this world would be a much better place. People rise to expectations, Jasmine, and I think that’s what you’re doing.”

“Thank you.”

“Well,” the reverend began, slapping his thighs, “this is not a sad occasion. So, let’s get on with the business of getting this little girl dedicated.” He went around the desk and took out the certificate. “One of the things I always say to parents is that this is a good time to look at your relationship with God.”

Jasmine thought about how far she’d come. She prayed and read her Bible daily. Even knew a few scriptures. She’d be the first to admit that she still had a long way to go. She recalled the lies she’d told Hosea yesterday and regretted that she didn’t have the faith to tell the truth. But that was the only good thing about this situation—at least she wouldn’t have to live under those lies.

“Now, I will be standing at the altar with you in front of me. Will Malik be standing in as her godfather?”

Jasmine nodded. Malik had asked if she wanted him to stand in as Jacqueline’s father, but she declined. She was Jacqueline’s mother, and for now, she’d walk in the shoes of her father as well.

“There is a point in the ceremony, Jasmine, where I’m going to ask who gives this child to be dedicated.” He paused, shook his head.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, that’s just the point where the father…” His voice trailed off. “Well, I think that’s it.” He stood. “I’m sure they’re here by now. Why don’t you go into the sanctuary and I’ll be right there.”

She nodded, but before she took a step, she said, “I’m really sorry the way this worked out, because Jacqueline would have been blessed to have you as a grandfather.”

He hugged her before she left the room.

They stood in the
same spot where Jasmine had promised to love Hosea until death.

“I count it an honor and a privilege to stand with you as we come together to thank God for the gift that He’s given us in Jacqueline Elizabeth—” Reverend Bush paused. “Jacqueline Elizabeth Larson.”

The reverend cleared his throat and continued. “Dedicating a child to God acknowledges the Lord’s sovereignty. And so we stand before God tonight, together, to pray for His grace and wisdom in carrying out our responsibilities.”

Jacqueline wiggled and Jasmine held her tighter. To her right, Malik stood, smiled.

“As believers, we recognize that children belong to the Lord.”

Jacqueline gurgled her agreement, and they all chuckled.

As the ceremony continued, Jasmine quickly glanced around the church. The lights had been dimmed so that the spotlight was on just the four of them at the altar—she, Malik, Mrs. Sloss, and Reverend Bush—standing for Jacqueline Elizabeth. It was almost pathetic, the absence of people in her life, and therefore missing from her daughter’s. She’d made Hosea and work her priorities. Maybe that would change; maybe not. She was fine with it being all about Jacqueline, for now.

It was difficult, though, to keep sadness at bay. This was a special moment, meant to be shared by her and Hosea with their daughter. And it was even sadder that she’d never be able to tell Jacqueline wonderful stories about how her father wanted her, loved her while she was still in the womb.

“As her mother,” the reverend said, dragging Jasmine from her thoughts, “it is important for you to love God with every ounce of your being and teach Jacqueline to do the same.”

Jasmine nodded. Jacqueline would know the love of God. Between His love and hers, she’d make sure that her daughter never felt that there was anything missing.

“Who gives this child to be dedicated to the Lord?” Reverend Bush asked.

Jasmine took a breath, lifted Jacqueline toward the reverend.

“I do.”

The voice came from the back of the church. They all turned, peered through the darkness, until Hosea stepped into the light. Slowly, he moved with steps that seemed forced, as if he were not coming on his own accord. Yet, he wore a smile.

He walked straight to Jasmine, and gently lifted Jacqueline from her arms. He held their baby, looked at her as if he adored her. Then, he said, “Reverend Bush, you asked who gives this child to be dedicated to the Lord.” He paused, looked at Jasmine, said, “Her mother and I do.”

They were all silent with shock, stared at Hosea as if he were the one being dedicated to God.

Hosea’s eyes moved from Jasmine to his father, to Malik, back to Jasmine.

“Well,” he began, “are we going to do my daughter’s dedication or not?”

Reverend Bush’s smile was wide as he took the baby from his son’s arms. Jasmine stood stiff, afraid that if she even blinked, Hosea would go away.

Hosea took her hand and squeezed it, and she started breathing again.
Amen and amen.

With Jacqueline in his arms, the reverend said, “Hosea and Jasmine,” he paused. “By coming forward before God, do you declare your desire to dedicate yourselves and your daughter, Jacqueline Elizabeth…Bush to the Lord?”

Hosea looked at Jasmine and he nodded slightly. Together, they said, “We do.”

Reverend Bush raised a wiggling Jacqueline above his head. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I present to you Jacqueline Elizabeth Bush.” He paused and then added with a laugh, “My granddaughter.”