Those thoughts were the last ones she’d had.
“Why did I faint?” she asked the nurse.
“I’m just about finished, then the doctor will talk to you about all of that.”
A couple of minutes later, the doctor strolled in, followed by Hosea. As soon as they stood by her bedside, one on each side, she asked again, “Why did I faint?”
The doctor glanced at Hosea.
Natasia said, “You can tell me anything. You can talk in front of Hosea.”
The doctor took in a deep breath, then released it. “Well, we don’t know why you fainted. It could be a couple of things, from your medication to your blood pressure. Your blood pressure is high, it was high last night and it’s still a bit high. And we’re going to look at all your medication.” He paused. “But we did find out something . . .”
“My kidneys,” she whispered.
He nodded. “We’re going to do a test to measure your creatinine levels—”
“What does that mean?” Hosea asked before the doctor could finish.
And before the doctor could respond, Natasia said, “It means that I may need dialysis.”
They both looked at the doctor and he nodded. “You’ve done your research.”
She swallowed. “I have.”
“So, she’s going to need dialysis?” Hosea asked as if he was shocked.
“We still have another test to do, but it appears that her kidney function has dropped to below fifteen percent. And if that’s the case, yes. Definitely. Dialysis will save your life.”
“How often will she need this, doctor?” Hosea asked softly.
“There are many things we have to figure out, but it will probably be a couple of times a week.”
“Wow!”
“I’m going to get some of the tests ordered,” Dr. Ginsberg said. “I’ll be back.”
When they were alone, Hosea looked down at her and shook his head.
“Don’t do that,” she said. “I knew this was coming.”
“But so soon . . .”
“It’s not that soon; I’ve known for a year and because I didn’t have any symptoms, my kidneys were getting weaker for years before then.”
“So, what are you going to do? I know you can’t work now.”
“Who says?” She frowned. “Being on dialysis doesn’t mean that I’m going to be laid up in a hospital bed. Plenty of people have regular . . . well, maybe not so regular, but you know what I mean. Plenty of people have regular lives.”
“But if you don’t have to work, then why do it?”
“Because I have to work for my sanity. I don’t want to sit around, Hosea, and wait for this to happen.”
He nodded.
“Plus, I have to work for money, unless you’re going to take care of me.”
She’d said that only to make him smile. And he did. But then Hosea said, “If it comes down to that, I’ll take care of you.”
“Yeah, right.” Now, she laughed out loud, though she was so weak, it sounded like a giggle. “I’m sure your wife will be right there taking care of me, too.”
“You underestimate my wife.”
“No, just like a man, you do. But this is a non-discussion because I’m going to keep working.”
He nodded. “Okay, but what about living by yourself?”
“Well, unless you’re going to move in with me . . .”
Again, she was trying to make him smile, but this time, he didn’t. He just stared at her.
“What?” she said after a few uncomfortable moments.
He sat on the edge of her bed. “I want you to hear me out.”
“Uh-oh. I don’t think I’m gonna like this.”
“Natasia, you mean the world to me . . . as a friend. And I’m really concerned about you. Dialysis . . . this sounds serious.”
“It is.”
He nodded. “I don’t want you to go through this by yourself and I need you to really think about what’s going to happen now.”
She paused for a moment, closed her eyes, then after a few seconds, opened them. “Okay, I’ve thought about it. But what can I do, Hosea? I’m sick. All I can do is fight it.”
“You can let me do more.” He took her hands in his. “I may have a solution. We have a big house, and . . .” He stopped. “Let me think about this a little and pray about it a lot. We’ll talk later, okay?”
She nodded because she didn’t want to speak. If she opened her mouth, she would ask him what he was thinking, just like she’d wanted to do the other day.
But in her heart she knew it was best not to talk about his thoughts . . . not yet.
We have a big house.
Was he seriously considering moving her into his house? And if he did ask her, would she consider it?
“I have to get going,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ll come back in a few hours.”
She nodded, and then closed her eyes when he kissed her forehead. She inhaled, wanting to savor the moment, then watched him as he stepped from the room.
Her eyes stayed on the door as she snuggled back into the bed, trying to get as comfortable as she could against the rough sheets.
There was so much that should be on her mind right now. Her kidneys were failing, her lupus was progressing . . . but all she wanted to think about was Hosea. If she had a chance of surviving, she would only survive because of him.
But truly, did he want her to live with him and his wife? Did she want to do that? No, not really. She wanted more of him, and that would never happen under his roof . . . would it?
She shook her head. None of this mattered because Jasmine would never agree. There was no need to even think about it.
But then . . . she couldn’t let the thoughts go. If she did live with Hosea, she would have him for more hours than if she were not in his house. And Jasmine couldn’t watch her all the time. Maria Shriver was proof of that.
“Yeah,” Natasia whispered to herself. “Yeah.”
She lowered the bed until she was flat on her back again and she closed her eyes. There was so much going through her mind, and if Hosea had not been there, it would’ve all been so scary. But he was there, and now she could handle it.
She could handle it because of Hosea. The question now, though, was WWJD—what would Jasmine do?
Chapter
THIRTY-TWO
Mary
She was hiding out in the bathroom. That seemed to be the place of refuge from the cameras, no matter where they were taping. (Well, except for that time Chauncey snuck in and secretly taped them.) But today, the bathroom here at the W Hotel was giving her little solace.
Mary wasn’t looking forward to today, and had even hoped taping would be canceled again, like Monday’s show had been. Mary had heard Natasia was in the hospital, so as far as Mary was concerned, they could cancel the taping all week. But they were moving forward, taping one of the final episodes—a dedication to Jacqueline’s Hope–Atlanta. Apparently, Jasmine had some national missing children’s foundation and she claimed that since they’d opened a church in Atlanta, it seemed only feasible that they open a chapter of Jacqueline’s Hope here as well. It was all probably a publicity stunt but Mary had been happy to take part nonetheless. Or at least, she had been happy.
Part of today’s dedication involved having all of their children present. Jasmine’s daughter and son, Jacqueline and Zaya, were already here. Alvin had come with her and Nathan, and Mary had been bracing herself for Rachel’s children. For her son.
It would be her first time actually laying eyes on her baby, and Mary didn’t know how she would react. Frankly, she’d been surprised that Rachel would even allow it. But then she’d overheard Sonny telling someone that it would only be Rachel’s two older children taking part.
After hearing that, Mary had to duck into the bathroom to compose herself. All the excitement she’d felt was gone and she would’ve given anything to be able to leave. Even though it had been almost a week since that disast
rous Women’s Day event, Mary still didn’t want to face Rachel. She’d only garnered the strength because of the chance to see her son. But now . . .
Mary pushed aside dreams of her son. She’d see him soon enough. Nathan had made her that promise as early as this morning—right after he kissed her and apologized for slapping her again last night.
Mary leaned toward the mirror and dabbed some more foundation on the bruise on her face. He usually was careful not to leave a bruise. This time, it was as if he didn’t care. The swelling had gone down and even though a purple mark had taken its place, Mary had covered it up pretty good. She’d even covered up the bruise on her side from where Nathan had kicked her earlier in the week. What she’d never be able to cover up was the bruise on her heart.
Mary stared at her reflection and fought back the tears. Who was this woman staring back at her in the mirror? Had prison made her into this? A self-loathing, low-self-esteem-having . . . victim? Where had her fight gone? Had she lost it in prison? Had she lost it when she lost her son?
Her son. The reason she was doing all of this. The reason she was enduring Nathan’s abuse.
When she left the Huntsville Women’s prison, Mary had been perfectly content to come to Atlanta and be Mrs. Nathan Frazier. It wasn’t until he’d started talking about her son that she began to envision a different life. It wasn’t until he’d painted a picture of their happy family that she’d wanted more.
Now, Mary knew what her grandmother meant when she said, “Sometimes you need to leave well enough alone.”
She inhaled, then exhaled. She needed to pull it together. Nathan was waiting outside and she knew it would be a matter of time before he came poking his head in the doorway. Mary found herself wondering if Rachel had told Jasmine about Nathan’s abuse. She was banking on the fact that the two of them didn’t like each other. But Mary had no doubt it was something she’d shared with Lester. And with the courts.
She shivered as she thought of that information coming out in court. That’s why she hadn’t told Nathan that Rachel had seen them. He would just find some way to make that her fault.
With a new determination to get through this day, Mary dropped the compact back in her purse. But then the bathroom door swung open, and she wanted to disappear into thin air when she came face-to-face with Rachel.
“Excuse me,” Mary said, trying to step around Rachel.
Rachel took a step to the right, blocking her path.
“I said, excuse me,” Mary said as Rachel continued to glare at her. “What, you gonna hit me again?” Mary said. She was showing bravado that she didn’t really feel.
“Nah. Seems like you get enough of that at home,” Rachel casually replied.
That stung. Mainly because it was true.
“So, you’re okay with that?” Rachel asked.
Mary didn’t want to cause a scene because she knew Nathan was just outside the door and she didn’t want Alvin to see her and Rachel fighting.
“What are you talking about, Rachel?”
“So, we’re just going to pretend that I didn’t see what we both know I saw?”
Mary shifted nervously. There was no sense in trying to act like what Rachel saw didn’t really happen. “It’s not like it seemed at all.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seemed like he was beating the crap out of you and you just laid there and took it.”
“We just had a little argument that got out of hand.”
“So, that’s how you’re going to play it? Out of hand?” Rachel looked at her like she was crazy.
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Mary said, taking a step around Rachel.
Rachel grabbed Mary’s arm and spun her around. “He kicked you in your side like a stray dog. And you’re okay with that?”
Mary swallowed the lump in her throat. “Of course I’m not okay with that. We talked about it, he apologized, and it’ll never happen again.”
“That’s what all abusers say.”
Mary snatched her arm away. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging you,” Rachel replied. She ran her eyes up and down Mary’s body, the disgust evident. “If you don’t love yourself enough to demand that your husband not lay his hands on you, that’s on you. If you’re okay with getting your behind beat, that’s on you. But what’s on me is making sure that my son never lives in an environment like that.”
Those words cut to Mary’s core. Deep down inside, she knew Rachel was right. Still, she said, “Nathan would never do that in front of my son.” She could tell that got under Rachel’s skin because her whole body tensed.
“You signed away your rights. He’s my son.”
“I wasn’t in my right mind,” Mary replied. “I gave him life.”
“And I helped him live.”
They stood facing each other until Mary said, “The bottom line is, I’ve gotten my life together and I want my son back.”
“So, your life is together, huh?” Rachel looked her up and down again. “Did you know that seventy-three percent of abusers grew up in homes where their fathers were abusers?”
Mary wondered how Rachel even knew that statistic, but she knew it was one Rachel wouldn’t hesitate to use against her.
Rachel continued, “My son, yes, my son—because were it not for me, he’d be in the system—my son will not have that life. Nor will he have a life where he sees his egg donor, because that’s all you are, getting her behind beat and thinking it’s okay.”
“He won’t be raised like that,” Mary said. Even as the words came out of her mouth, she didn’t know that she believed them.
Mary knew one thing, though, if Nathan did ever put his hands on her in front of her son, that’s when she would stand up and fight back.
“What’s the holdup?” Nathan said as he stuck his head in the bathroom.
“Um, excuse me, this is a ladies room,” Rachel snapped.
“So, what you doing in here?” He laughed like he really said something funny. His smile faded when he noticed he was the only one laughing. He turned to Mary. “Come on.”
Mary lowered her eyes and stepped around Rachel.
“Scurry along like the good reverend said,” Rachel called out after her. “Because we both know what he’ll do if you don’t obey him,” she added as the bathroom door slammed on the sound of her voice.
Nathan froze, then glared at Mary. She immediately felt knots in her stomach. Mary knew she was going to pay dearly for Rachel’s comment as soon as she and Nathan got home.
Chapter
THIRTY-THREE
Rachel
Rachel couldn’t believe it, but she was actually ready for this reality show to wrap up. She didn’t know how much more tension she could stomach. She’d almost bowed out of today’s taping because it involved the children, specifically Lewis. As much as she wanted to support Jacqueline’s Hope, having all of her children on was a deal breaker. Rachel had told Melinda she would walk away from everything (and face whatever lawsuits came as a result) if they wouldn’t let her tape without putting Lewis on. Melinda had reluctantly agreed to tape without Brooklyn and Lewis since they were so young, so Rachel had her stepmother, Brenda, bring the other children in from Houston. They’d gotten in late last night, and since Rachel had a hair appointment before coming to tape, Brenda was just going to meet her here with Nia and Jordan.
After taking a moment to freshen up, Rachel inhaled, said a silent prayer for a drama-free day, then made her way back outside.
She had just opened the bathroom door when she heard, “Mommmyyyy!” Brooklyn and Nia came racing toward her and threw their arms around her.
Rachel scooped Brooklyn up, while looking at her stepmother strangely. “Hello, my sweeties.”
Brenda shrugged. “Your sitter didn’t show, so I brought Brooklyn and Lewis with me. I’ll just keep them out of the way.”
Rachel wanted to wring her stepmother’s neck. Although she hadn’t given Brenda all the de
tails about Mary and Lewis, she’d been adamant that only Nia and Jordan were to come.
“Hey, Ma,” Jordan said, hugging Rachel before she could go off on Brenda.
She hugged him as well, then looked around, “Where’s your bro—” Before Rachel could finish her sentence she saw him. Her son, sitting comfortably in that sleazy preacher’s arms.
Rachel almost knocked Jordan down as she bolted over to Nathan. “What are you doing with my son?” she screamed.
“I was just getting to know him,” Nathan said with a slimy grin as Rachel snatched Lewis from his arms.
Thankfully, Jasmine moved in from God only knows where and stepped in front of Rachel before her claws could make contact with Nathan’s face.
“Rachel,” Jasmine said.
“Move, Jasmine,” Rachel growled, her chest heaving.
“Don’t do this.”
Rachel was shivering she was so angry. Although neither Sonny nor Chauncey were around, Rachel didn’t care who saw her. She didn’t care about anything anymore except making Mary Frazier a widow.
“I was just holding him,” Nathan said, feigning shock at Rachel’s anger. “He’s such a big boy.” He reached over to toussle Lewis’s hair.
“You don’t touch my son,” Rachel hissed as she moved Lewis out of reach.
Nathan turned up his lips, and in a cocky tone said, “He needs to get to know me since he’ll be living with me soon.”
It was Jasmine who turned this time and looked like she was ready to clock Nathan in the eye. Mary stepped up next to her husband. “Come on, Nathan. This isn’t the time.” Her eyes motioned toward a curly-haired boy standing next to them.
“Daddy, why is that little boy coming to live with us?” the boy, who appeared to be about ten or eleven, asked.
“He’s not!” Rachel screamed. She didn’t mean to yell at the boy, but at that moment, no one was exempt from her anger.
“Hey, what’s the problem?” Sonny said, rushing over.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Lewis asked, touching Rachel’s face. Rachel hadn’t even realized that she was crying until she felt him wiping away her tears.
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