Jasmine stiffened, and that fire in her belly that she felt only at times like these began to rise within her. When Jasmine’s fingers curled into fists, Rachel noticed.
She frowned at first, then, covered her mouth with her hand. “Jasmine, that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t talking about . . . what happened with Jacquie.”
Jasmine had to take a couple of deep breaths before she responded, “I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I get what you were saying.”
“So, that means you understand, right?” Rachel asked as she grabbed a couple of paper towels from the dispenser.
“I do, Rachel, I really do.”
“Lewis is our son,” she said before she wiped her tears and then blew her nose. “I can’t lose him, I just can’t.”
“And you won’t.”
“How can you say that? How can you be so sure?”
Jasmine paused for a moment. She’d just gone to Rachel asking for her help and Rachel had talked about needing to think about it. She could stand here and do the same to Rachel, but this was different. This was about a child, Rachel’s child. And as much as she sometimes, kinda, sorta, really hated Rachel, she sometimes, kinda, sorta, really liked her, too. Jasmine wasn’t going to let anyone get away with doing this to her friend.
Her friend.
Yeah, that’s what Rachel was to her. It was hard to admit, but they were more friends than they were enemies.
“Jasmine!” Rachel called her name. “I asked you, how can you be so sure that we won’t lose Lewis?”
“Because,” Jasmine began, “You’re Rachel Jackson Adams and I’m Jasmine Cox Larson Bush and together, has anyone ever been able to stop us?”
There was hope in Rachel’s eyes when she looked up. “Really? You think we can stop Mary and her pimp-of-a-preacher husband?”
“Come on, Rachel. Look in the mirror.” Rachel turned her head and stared at her reflection. “Don’t forget who you are, and don’t forget who I am. You’ve never let anyone get away with anything. Hell, you’re always trying to go up against me and you know I can beat you anytime, any place.”
“You wish,” Rachel said, with just a hint of a smile.
“See what I’m talking about?” Jasmine said. “That’s the attitude I need from you now. Okay?”
Rachel nodded tentatively, as if she wanted to believe what Jasmine was saying, but she wasn’t quite sure.
Jasmine placed her hands on Rachel’s shoulders and turned her so that they were face-to-face. “We’re gonna take care of this. We’re gonna take care of Mary . . . and we’re gonna take care of Natasia.”
Rachel nodded. “Yeah, Natasia, too,” she said, suddenly all in with Jasmine’s plan. “So, what are we gonna do?”
“First, we’re gonna get you cleaned up,” Jasmine said.
“Okay.”
“Then we’re gonna walk back out there with our heads held high, but we’re not gonna talk to anyone!”
“Okay.”
“And finally, we’re going to see Mae Frances!”
Chapter
TWENTY-FIVE
Rachel
Rachel fought back the tears, held her head high, and opened the bathroom door. It helped that Jasmine was by her side, her arm draped through Rachel’s. Although she didn’t say a word once the door opened, Rachel felt Jasmine’s support and it gave her strength. It reminded her that she was a First Lady. It reminded her of how far she’d come.
“Is everything okay?” Reverend Woodruff’s wife said as she scurried over to them. She looked genuinely concerned. Rachel saw Natasia standing next to Chauncey, that smirk still across her face. Mary and Nathan stood in a corner. He looked cocky. She looked afraid. She should be because war had been declared and Rachel was ready to battle.
Rachel brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, composed herself, and said, “Yes, First Lady Woodruff. I’m okay now.” Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Chauncey, who had moved in close to her and had the camera pointed directly at her. “My sincerest apologies for the scene that just unfolded. By no means did I intend to mar your Women’s Day festivities,” Rachel continued, not focusing on the camera. She was sincere in her apology and she didn’t want to diminish it by angling for the camera. But she did want Chauncey to get a good shot of her.
“What happened?” the First Lady asked.
“As a mother, I hope that you can understand.” Rachel looked over at Mary. “The papers I received were from my co-star, Mary Richardson Frazier, and her husband Rev. Nathan Frazier, announcing that she was suing me for sole custody of my son.”
“What? How is that even possible?”
Rachel saw that a second camera had moved in and was getting her from another angle. She knew that nothing she said, no threat she made, would keep that fight off the air. So now, she had to clean up the mess she’d made.
Rachel took a deep breath. “A long time ago, my husband had a brief affair with Mary. She came into our church, seduced my husband during a difficult time in our marriage, then proceeded to try and take over my life. Through the grace of God, my husband and I moved past that indiscretion because I was pregnant. Only we found out Mary was pregnant, too.”
The room was deathly quiet as everyone stared at Rachel in shock. Several of the women in the room were First Ladies themselves, so Rachel knew they could relate to her pain. The rest were most likely mothers, so Rachel hoped they could relate on that level as well.
“Mary said that she was carrying my husband’s child,” Rachel continued, to more gasps. Several people directed hate-filled looks in Mary’s direction. She cowered behind her husband, who just stood there with that snarky grin on his face.
Reverend Woodruff’s wife clutched her pearls in horror as Rachel continued. “Mary tortured me, made my life a living hell, to the point that I went into labor early. It turned out the baby was not my husband’s, but when Mary was arrested for being a con artist, my husband and I adopted her child and raised him as our own in an effort to keep him out of the foster care system.” Rachel glared at Mary and Nathan. “And now, for the sake of television ratings, they want to rip my child from the only home he has ever known.”
By that point, several of the women were in tears as well. Many had gathered around Rachel and Jasmine.
“So, as you can imagine, getting those papers set me off.” She glanced over at Jasmine, who nodded her approval. Rachel knew that Jasmine would’ve preferred that she not say anything, but Rachel couldn’t go out like that.
“The devil is a lie!” First Lady Woodruff said, leaning in to hug Rachel. “You just remember that, okay?”
Rachel nodded, dabbing her eyes again. “I will.” Jasmine touched her arm, the signal that they needed to go. “Again, my apologies. But now, I must go call my husband and explain to him the battle that we face.”
Rev. Woodruff’s wife hugged her tightly again. “My, Lord. You poor thing. I will be praying for you.”
“We all will,” another one of the women said.
“You’re better than me,” one of the women to the left of Rachel said. “Because I would’ve done more than just hit her in her jaw.”
“I know that’s right. She’d be rolling into the ER right about now if she tried to take my kid,” another woman said.
Rachel squeezed their hands, comforted that these women of God weren’t judging her.
“Thank you, sisters,” Rachel said as Jasmine took her arm and led her toward the door. They passed Nathan and Mary. Mary wouldn’t look her in the eyes and that slimeball was grinning like he’d hit the jackpot.
“You won’t get my son. Ever,” Rachel said, as Jasmine lightly tugged her arm.
Chauncey followed them out the door and it was Jasmine who actually turned to him and said, “Enough.”
It must’ve been the tone of her voice because he stopped, then glanced back at Natasia, who had walked out as well. Jasmine scowled at Natasia and repeated, “I said, enough.”
/> Natasia did a small eye roll but gave Chauncey the cue to stop filming, which he did.
Rachel didn’t know how she made it over to the waiting town car, but she did. Jasmine helped her into the car and the door had barely closed before she released another river of tears.
“Come on,” Jasmine said, sliding in the other side. “You’re better than this. Don’t let them do this. You know it’s all for the show. They will not get your child.”
“They have money, too. What if they hire top-notch lawyers?”
“But they don’t have Mae Frances.”
Rachel sniffed. As much as she despised that old woman, if anyone could fix this, Mae Frances could.
“Didn’t you just get through preaching about faith?” Jasmine asked, a small smile across her face.
Rachel returned her smile.
“Heed your own words,” Jasmine continued. “What’s impossible for man, is possible with God. And Mae Frances.”
Rachel finally managed a small chuckle. “I missed that addendum to the Bible.”
“It’s not in there, but it should be.” Jasmine moved toward the door. “I’m going to go talk to Mae Frances now. She’s still not feeling well, but I’m going to bring her up to speed. You go home, you talk to Lester, and then you meet me at my place at eight o’clock.”
Just then, Mary and Nathan walked outside. He had the nerve to look jovial as he dragged Mary toward their car.
“You should’ve let me kill her.” Rachel’s hand reached for the door. “You know what? I’m just going to go talk to her.”
Jasmine stopped her. “No, you’re not. You’re going to go home, talk to your husband, then meet me at eight o’clock. Okay?”
Rachel slowly let her hand fall off the door handle. “Fine.”
“Home, Rachel.”
“I said, okay.”
They stared at each other for a moment, then Jasmine did the unexpected, and reached over and hugged Rachel. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Jasmine had just opened the car door when Rachel added, “I’m sorry I didn’t immediately help with Natasia.”
Jasmine smiled. “It’s okay. You’re going to help now.”
“I am,” Rachel said. “We’re going to help each other.”
Jasmine exited and Rachel sat for a minute. Finally, the driver said, “Where to?”
Rachel leaned back against the plush leather seat. One part of her wanted to follow Nathan and Mary and have the driver run them off the road or into the path of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler, but instead she simply said, “You can take me home.”
On the drive to her house, Rachel called her husband. Initially, he was shocked. Then hurt. And when he cried, she cried. They talked the whole ride home, with him trying to assure her that everything would be all right. But it was the shakiness in his voice that told her he wasn’t so sure.
That’s why when the driver dropped Rachel off at home, instead of going inside, Rachel pulled out her car keys, got into her leased Range Rover, and pulled out of the driveway. Yes, she had promised Jasmine she was going home . . . and she would, right after she had a serious face-to-face with Mary Richardson Frazier.
Chapter
TWENTY-SIX
Mary
That was a complete and utter disaster.
Mary nursed her jaw, still dumbfounded that Rachel had hit her. She knew Rachel could be ghetto, but she was a First Lady, after all. Mary assumed that Rachel would’ve taken that into account before getting violent. But Rachel had thrown all decorum to the wind and charged her like a raging bull.
Mary cut her eyes at her husband. He was on his cell phone, yapping away, telling one of his friends what had just happened. That bastard hadn’t even asked if she was okay.
“Man, you should’ve seen the look on that woman’s face when they gave her the papers. . . . Oh, you’ll see it. It will probably be the number one YouTube clip once it airs.” He laughed hard. “I love it!”
Mary glared at her husband and he finally noticed. “Yo, Deacon, let me call you back.”
Nathan pressed the button to end the call, then turned to face Mary. “What is your problem?”
Mary had been completely against serving those papers publicly, but Nathan had been adamant that they needed to do it this way. “Rachel will lose it and it will elicit more sympathy for you,” he had said. Those women surrounding Rachel like she was their wronged daughter didn’t seem to have an ounce of sympathy for Mary. If anything, she now felt like some kind of pariah.
“I just think this whole thing was unnecessary,” she admitted.
“That’s why I do the thinking in this relationship,” he casually replied.
Mary noticed the driver pulling up in front of their home. “I thought we were going to get Alvin.”
“Nah, we can just get him from my mom tomorrow.” Nathan got out of the car and headed up the walkway, not bothering to help her out.
Mary sighed, then followed him inside. Nathan was already at the refrigerator getting a beer. That was another thing she wasn’t feeling. She knew ministers drank occasionally, but Nathan drank a six pack a day. If he was such a man of God, shouldn’t he limit his beer intake?
She decided against addressing the beer issue—it’s not like he listened any of the other times she said anything about it. “If we’re a family now, Alvin doesn’t need to be living with your parents. He hates it over there.”
Nathan closed the refrigerator, then popped the top on his beer. “Oh, so now you’re worried about being a family?” He took a swig. “You weren’t worried when Rachel was being served.”
Mary knew that was coming. He’d wanted to make that into a major show and she had flat-out refused. “What did you want me to do, Nathan?”
“I wanted you to do what we talked about. You were supposed to be right there next to her so you could’ve been in the shot together,” he replied. “It’s bad enough they didn’t serve her during the actual church service, but you messed the plan all the way up.”
She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Nathan would be livid to learn that she had actually asked the process server to come during the reception. What they were doing was bad enough. She just couldn’t see having the server walk up into the sanctuary and hand Rachel those papers.
“It’s just wrong to make such a spectacle of someone’s heartache,” she said.
“I don’t get you,” Nathan said, leaning against the refrigerator. “When I met you, you were a washed-up criminal doing hard time.”
“And you were the one that helped me turn my life around,” she said. “You were the one that helped me find God. Your whole ministry.”
He waved her off. “Whatever, Mary. If I had known you were going to turn into Dolly Do-Right, I would’ve left you in the pen.”
That comment stung, but Mary was tired of arguing. “You could at least ask if I’m okay,” she finally said.
“Please. That little punch couldn’t have done you any harm.” He laughed. “Although it did look like it hurt. If you could’ve seen if from my vantage point, whew! She knocked you out like Tyson did Holyfield.”
“Glad you can find some humor in all of this.” Mary folded her arms and turned her back to him.
“Come on, babe. Don’t be mad.” Nathan eased up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “When you have your son back and we’re all one big happy family and Pleasant City’s membership is through the roof to the point that we have to build another church, then you’ll thank me.”
Mary doubted that but she didn’t feel like discussing this with him anymore.
“I’m going to go work on Sunday’s sermon,” he said. “Maybe I’ll preach on how sons belong with their mothers. That’s a good idea, don’t you think?”
She nodded. “Yes, it’s a great idea.” She would say anything just to get him to leave.
Nathan kissed her on the cheek—the sore one—and she grimaced from the pain and the contempt that was starting to fill he
r heart.
Mary made her way over to a drawer, pulled out a baggie, and filled it with ice. She used to think that her ex-boyfriend Craig, her son’s real father, was bad. He was a serial con artist. If there was a scam to be run, Craig was the man to do it. His hustle and the life of crime they were leading had gotten on her nerves and they’d broken up. But she was starting to think that Nathan made Craig look good. At least Craig never claimed to be a man of God. At least Craig never put his hands on her.
She shook off thoughts of her ex. She hadn’t talked to him since the day she testified against him in court.
Mary had just put the ice pack on her cheek when her cell phone rang. She pulled it out and frowned at the number she didn’t recognize.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Mary?”
Her heart raced at the sound of Lester’s voice.
“Yes?” she said, lowering her voice as she opened the screen door and stepped out onto the back porch.
“It’s Lester.”
Mary’s eyes darted over her shoulder. She knew she should just hang up, but her heart raced at the sound of Lester’s voice. Mary didn’t know if it was fear, or the fact that deep down, she knew that she still loved this man.
“I know who it is,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me,” Lester replied. “Are you seriously trying to take Lester Jr.?”
The fact that he’d used her son’s real name made her want to cry. “I’m so sorry.”
“How could you do this?”
His tone wasn’t accusatory or demeaning. That’s the way Lester had always been with her. She’d been hired to seduce him and she’d fallen head over heels in love because he was the first man to ever make her feel worthy.
“It’s just . . . Nathan . . . he’s the one, he thinks—he thinks my son belongs with us,” Mary stammered.
“This is devastating to Rachel. To me,” Lester continued. “Why are you doing it?”
“I don’t mean to hurt you, Lester. I—” Mary turned around and dropped the phone at the sight of her husband standing right in front of her, glaring at her through the screen door.
Fortune & Fame: A Novel Page 18
