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Authors: Vanessa Davis Griggs

BOOK: The Other Side of Goodness
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“Well, maybe Pastor Landris made a copy and used the copy to mess him up so he would appear all righteous when the information came out,” Paris said.
“No,” Darius said. “They say Rev. Walker had the package on his desk. His son came into his office at some point that day, found the package on his desk, and looked inside. For some reason, for which we may never know, the son decided to leak it to the newspaper people. When it came out, Rev. Walker thought his secretary had done it. Especially after he realized the package was gone. She was the one that pointed the finger at the son Knowledge, who admitted he was the one who gave it to the news folks.”
The waiter brought their entrees and Darius's salad and entrée.
Darius began to eat.
Lawrence sat watching him as he shoved food into his mouth while he talked. There was something about Darius that he didn't care for, something about him that just didn't sit well with him.
“On another subject,” Darius said right before putting more food in his mouth. “That little girl that needed the transplant . . . well they ended up finding someone who matched her. I was sure they weren't going to find a match. I mean: What are the odds?” Darius nodded quickly. “Yeah. There's something up with that, if you ask me. At least, that's what everybody is saying. Yep.” He nodded as he chewed hard with his mouth open.
“Well, frankly,” Lawrence said. “I think people who do the most talking really don't know what they're talking about most of the time. It's always ‘they' said. Who is this ‘they' that supposedly knows everything but in the end generally knows nothing?”
Darius nodded quickly as he shoved more food in his mouth. “True that. Because, with all due respect to you, Representative Simmons, they say the way you were acting that you must be that little girl's father.” Darius stopped chewing and grinned.
Lawrence sat back and looked at him with a cynical face. “Is that right?”
Darius nodded, then put another bite in his mouth as he looked on at Lawrence. “Yep. That's the latest talk around town. They say that's why you took that project on as vigorously as you did. Of course, we never
did
learn who the matching person turned out to be. They say you're the one making sure that information remains under wraps so folks won't know the real truth.”
“Oh,” Paris chimed in with a dismissive wave. “Folks are always saying things when it comes to my daddy. He's been called everything but a child of God.”
“Well, personally, I don't get into other folk's business too much myself. I have enough of my own to tend to and keep me busy,” Darius said.
Paris then changed the subject and they talked about other things.
After about fifteen more minutes, Lawrence got the attention of the waiter to pay the check. “Well, I need to get back to the office,” Lawrence said.
“Daddy, thank you so much for coming. I really enjoyed this,” Paris said.
“Sure,” Lawrence said. “So, Paris . . . are you ready to go?”
Paris pointed with her fork at her plate. “I'm still eating.”
“You
could
get the rest to go,” Lawrence said, standing next to the side of the table.
“Oh, I'll be fine. You go on,” Paris said. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you.”
Darius got up and moved over to the now vacated side, directly facing Paris. “Thanks, Representative Simmons, for the meal. I really appreciate it.” Darius nodded.
“Sure,” Lawrence said to Darius. “Paris, are you sure you're going to be all right? I can wait.”
“Yes, Daddy. I'm a big girl. I'll be all right. You can go. I'm fine.”
“I know you're a big girl,” Lawrence said. “Okay, but call me when you get home.”
“Will do.” Paris jumped up and gave her father a big hug. “We really have to do this again soon. I had fun!” She sat back down and started back eating.
Lawrence nodded. “Yeah.” And without another word, he left.
 
Paris watched her father walk out of view, then let her fork drop to her plate, making a loud clink. “You were
so
good,” she said, leaning in toward Darius.
He picked up his glass of wine and teetered his glass a few times. “Of course. Were you expecting anything less?”
“Did you see the look on my father's face when you said that about your daughter being the same age as the little girl who needed the bone marrow transplant?” Paris grinned, flicking her hair again. “Oh . . . my . . . goodness!”
“Now that was priceless. You can't buy a look like that,” Darius said, taking a sip of wine. He smacked a few times before leaning forward and gazing into Paris's eyes. “And to think: I not only got to spend a little quality time with a beautiful woman of your caliber, but I ended up getting a nice meal
with
fine wine to boot. It doesn't get any better than this.” He set his glass down and leaned back and slightly to the side. “So what's next, Madame Butterfly?”
Paris smiled. “Oh . . . I can take it from here.”
Darius grinned. “I just hope you allow me to tag along for the flight. I really like the view from where I'm perched now.” He started a slow scan of her body.
Paris narrowed her eyes at him, picked up her glass of tea, and tipped it his way. “Cheers,” she said.
He raised his glass to her. “Cheers.” He smiled.
Chapter 38
Forget not the voice of thine enemies: the tumult of those that rise up against thee increaseth continually.
—Psalm 74:23
 
 
 
L
awrence went back to his office madder than he'd recalled being in a long while. He paced from the window to his desk.
How dare Paris do what she just did? What kind of a fool does she take me for?
His daughter had called and asked to take him to lunch. He was fully aware that her offering would mean he would end up footing the bill as always, but that was Paris. He hadn't minded that. He and Paris hadn't spoken much of late. Not since that whole thing with the bone marrow transplant campaign he'd told his family he wanted them to get behind and support wholeheartedly.
To Paris's credit, she did participate in the news conference. But that was it. She refused to be swabbed to see if she was a possible match. Turns out, it was just as well. Everything had worked out even
better
than planned. Although at first, he wasn't sure how he felt when he learned that his youngest daughter was identified as a possible match, then a nearly perfect donor match for the little girl.
He wasn't going to allow Imani to be a donor. She was only fifteen. And by law, no one would actually know she'd been a match. But Imani had argued that she was old enough to decide herself and she had wanted to do this . . . had to do this. When Deidra and he talked privately about it, he'd confessed to her that the whole thing wasn't supposed to be anything more than a campaign gambit. He admitted to Deidra how it hadn't initially been his idea and that he had to be convinced to move forward with it.
That part had been true. He hadn't
wanted
to do it. Gabrielle had been the one to first bring it up. She'd thrown down a pretty heavy-duty gauntlet. He didn't have much of a choice but to at least
look
like he was trying to do what he could. And had he been a match, none of this would have had to come out at all. But he, like Gabrielle, had not been. Gabrielle said that a sibling had a greater chance of being a match and she was fully expecting him to have his children tested, if it would possibly save the child's life.
He still couldn't quite wrap his brain around the idea that he had another daughter out there. And as much as he had wrestled with the idea, he hadn't gone to see her. He could have gone, if nothing more than as the representative of the House who orchestrated the donor campaign. But he was afraid to see her.
No one can ever say with certainty how they'll react to something until they're faced with it.
If he was to visit with this child (which the mother had long before indicated she would have welcomed, especially after what he'd done to bring attention to her daughter's plight), he couldn't be sure what he would feel . . . what he would do. So he was choosing to play it safe and stay away.
And everything had somehow worked out. His wife and children were none the wiser about what was really going on. Deidra, in fact, was the one who pressured him into allowing Imani to be the donor. But Deidra and Imani had a close bond. And Imani always seemed to get her way when it came to her mother. At least, that's what Lawrence concluded.
“Our daughter is an amazing young lady,” Deidra had said. “She's smart. She's caring. But most of all she really, honest and truly loves the Lord. Imani feels right now that her being a match is a God thing and something God would want her to do. If we don't let her do this, it could affect her for the rest of her life. And if that child dies because she didn't get a match, learning something like that could destroy Imani. Lawrence, we need to let her if this is what she wants to do. And she does.”
Lawrence shook his head slowly as he thought about what his wife was saying. “I don't know, Dee. I don't want our baby having to go through whatever she'll have to go through to be a donor to . . . a stranger essentially.” Lawrence had hesitated when he came to the word to call this little girl he knew now was his own daughter. In truth, she
was
a stranger, because they didn't actually
know
her. But by DNA she was also family; she was his child. And if Imani became her donor, she would principally be donating to her own half sister.
“Well, you know
exactly
what Imani would say to that,” Deidra said. “She would pull out some reference in the Bible about when Jesus was in need and He presented Himself in the form of a stranger, that in turning away that stranger, we may have been unknowingly turning Him away.” Deidra placed her hand on Lawrence's chest. “From what those people told me as to what would be required if Imani were to do this, it will be much like donating blood. She'll be given a few injections—”
“See what I mean,” Lawrence said. “They'll be sticking our child with a needle. And what if whatever they're injecting into her body causes her to get sick?” Lawrence shook his head. “No. No. I don't want my child going through that.”
“She's our child,” Deidra said. “And she's gotten stuck with needles plenty of times before. It would only sting for a little bit, you big baby.” Deidra laughed. “She would receive a few injections, go to the place where they'll hook her up to a machine, take her blood where they'll extract the needed cells, then recirculate her blood back into her body. That's it.”
“That's it? Are you sure? You're
sure
she's not going to end up losing something that her own body might need?”
Deidra laughed. “You know, you are
such
a great father. You truly care about your children. But to answer your question, they'll only be taking some of her marrow cells . . . stem cells. In fact, she'll be able to come home right after she's done. And school is out for the holidays, so she won't even miss any days of school.”
“Well, if we decide to say yes, I don't want anyone knowing that she was the match or even that she was the donor,” Lawrence said. “Okay?”
Deidra had a puzzled look on her face. “Why not? I would think you'd want
everyone
to know how well your efforts paid off. Then folks will see this really wasn't a gimmick.”
“
This
is not about my campaign right now. This is about
our
little girl. And I don't want this being exploited for any reason—political or other wise.”
Deidra smiled. “And to think: Everybody thinks you don't really care. You are such a softie, Representative Simmons. And I am so glad that I married you.”
He looked at his wife. She was truly a remarkable woman. She'd been there by his side every step of the way. So in the end, he was glad he'd chosen this route. He wouldn't want word of his past transgression to get out; it would destroy Deidra and destroy their marriage. And he wasn't going to let that happen. Not if he could do anything to keep it from happening. Consenting to Imani being the bone marrow donor had closed a lot of open doors. And everything in their lives seemed to be getting back to normal, whatever normal was.
But now here was Paris and her little friend who just “happened” to show up trying to stir things up. Darius Connors's appearance was a bit
too
convenient for Lawrence.
Here he'd just gotten Imani calmed down about wanting to visit the little girl, at least until after his election.
Now here comes Paris snooping around.
But just how much did Paris really know? Too many things were starting to overlap for Lawrence's comfort.
There was Gabrielle Mercedes, who truly looked like she wasn't out to get anything from him, other than to save that child's life. Now that
that
was done, he hadn't heard anything more from her. Still, Gabrielle and Paris lived together for that brief time, and they didn't exactly part on great terms. He had yet to get the full story on what happened. But he also knew that whatever it was, it was likely his daughter's doing. Then Paris happened to run into Gabrielle at the hospital cafeteria. That wouldn't have been about anything had it not been for Paris's suspicions that her husband and Gabrielle possibly knew each other and that Andrew wasn't being totally straight with her.
Of course, it would turn out that Paris was right in her suspicions, although she has no idea just how right. It hadn't been easy, but William's people had done some digging around and discovered that Andrew and Gabrielle
did
know each other. Fortunately, their encounter was during an innocent time period—Gabrielle's pre–Goodness and Mercy days of being an exotic dancer and post her having gotten pregnant. If it had turned out that Andrew had been in Gabrielle's life other than when he seemed to have been and Paris found out, Lawrence knew his daughter. She would blow up everything around her.
So his lunch date with Paris had his mind going ninety miles an hour now. Had Paris somehow found out about him and Gabrielle? Did she know he'd fathered a child out of wedlock that had been given up for adoption (unbeknownst to him at the time), and now the truth was in someone's possession other than the few he'd been told? And who was this Darius Connors character? What role was he playing?
Lawrence called William into his office.
“What's up?” William said, sitting down. “How was your lunch with Paris?”
Lawrence slowly spun around from gazing out of the window. “I'm not sure you can call what we just had ‘lunch' together. Listen, I need you to check somebody out for me. See what you can find out about him and get back to me as soon as possible.”
“Okay. Who's the unlucky person this time around?”
“Darius Connors. And put a rush on it, will you.”
William stood up and headed for the door. “Consider it as good as done!”

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