“Yeah,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he agreed. “And there’s something else.”
Jasmine waited for him to speak.
“Doctor Lewis asked about his DNR status.”
She frowned.
“Do not resuscitate,” he clarified. “She said she needs to know what we want to do if his heart stops beating.”
Her glower deepened. “Why would she ask you about that?”
“Because Pops doesn’t have a living will, and I have to make the decision on whether to have Pops shocked back to life or…”
Jasmine swallowed to get the nerve to ask, “What did you tell her?”
Looking straight into her eyes, he said, “I told her to do whatever she had to do to keep him alive.” She breathed with relief until he said, “But I just don’t know anymore.”
“Hosea, you can’t give up.”
“I’m not; it’s just that I never thought I’d be making these kinds of decisions for Pops.”
“You’ve made all the right ones. He came out of that infection fine. And I believe that the only reason he’s still asleep is because that’s the best way for his body to heal. He’s going to wake up, Hosea,” she said, as if God Himself had told her that.
It was the strength of her conviction that made his eyes brighten a bit. Leaning forward, he kissed the tip of her nose, right when his cell phone hummed and vibrated on the table. He frowned as he glanced at the screen, then flipped the phone open. “Hello.”
Jasmine tilted her head as her husband’s glower deepened.
“What allegations?” she heard him say.
Her heartbeat quickened, and she bunched her eyebrows together into a frown to fake her concern.
Hosea’s forehead wrinkled more with each passing second. He said, “No, I don’t have any comment.” He flipped his cell closed. “Wow.”
“What?” she asked, hoping her voice was filled with enough sincerity.
“That was Shirley Gant from the Post. Jerome was detained overnight by the police.” His head was shaking, his frown still deep.
“Jerome Viceroy?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.
He nodded. “Apparently, they pulled him in last night for questioning. For soliciting sex with a minor over the Internet.”
Jasmine’s mouth opened into as wide an O as she could push her lips. “Jerome?” She held her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “That’s impossible. No way. I don’t believe it.”
Now Hosea frowned at her, and Jasmine hoped she hadn’t overdone it. When she said nothing more, he nodded. “Shirley’s confirmed it with sources at the station. She wanted my comment.”
“Well…” Jasmine began slowly, “you know, he’s been in trouble before.”
“But not this kind of trouble. This sounds serious.”
As if extortion and tax evasion and money laundering aren’t serious.
He flipped open the phone. “I’ve got to get in touch with Brother Hill, see what he knows.”
“Okay, I’m going to check on Jacquie before we run up to the hospital.”
He nodded, but his thoughts were already beyond her words. The way he paced, Jasmine knew her husband was concerned—about his father, and now about Jerome Viceroy.
She hated putting more on his shoulders, but this had to be done. As soon as her back was turned to him, her lips spread into a slow smile.
Two down!
FIFTY
AS QUICKLY AS SHE COULD, Jasmine tucked Jacqueline into her bed, then rushed back into the living room.
“Is Jacquie asleep?”
Jasmine shook her head. “Not yet, Mrs. Sloss is with her.” But their daughter was not what she wanted to talk about. “So…the letter.”
Hosea handed her the envelope that Mrs. Sloss had given them the moment they’d walked in a half hour ago.
“It came by messenger,” their nanny had told them.
Now, looking down at the paper, Jasmine read out loud:
“To Whom It May Concern:
“Please accept this letter as my official resignation from the Board of Directors of City of Lights at Riverside Church. I am leaving to pursue other opportunities.”
Jerome’s signature was scrawled at the bottom.
Jasmine shook her head. Other opportunities? Yeah, right, she thought. She guessed that was a good way to look at it; surely prison would be a new experience.
But her eyes were filled with as much concern as she could muster when she slipped the letter back inside and looked up at her husband.
“I still cannot believe this. So…do you think…what Shirley told you this morning”—Jasmine lowered her voice for effect—“could it be true?”
Hosea slumped back onto the couch, shook his head. “I don’t know. But his resignation and Shirley’s phone call have to be connected. He wouldn’t be resigning—not with the upcoming vote—if he didn’t have to.”
“You’re right.”
More shaking of his head. “I don’t understand why Jerome hasn’t called me or Brother Hill back…this is all so weird.”
“Weird?”
“Yeah. First the board meeting was canceled…”
“That’s no big thing,” Jasmine said, not wanting Hosea to put too much thought into this.
But he kept on. “And now, this thing with Jerome. If I didn’t know better…” He stopped. Looked up. Stared at her.
Jasmine stood, her stance soft, but her eyes daring him to accuse her of something. Then, as if he was shaking away bad thoughts about her, he shuddered before he said, “I don’t know…it’s just weird.”
“That’s how you might explain it, but I’ve learned enough from you to know that this might be God’s favor.”
“No one else’s misfortune is God’s blessing to me.”
“I’m just saying that maybe God is revealing things about people—information that’s important, that you need to know.”
“Maybe…”
“You’re so focused on your father that you don’t know what’s going on in the church.”
He looked at her through squinted eyes. “Do you know something?”
“No! I’m just trying to give an explanation for what’s going on. I truly believe that God’s making sure everything is okay with City of Lights.”
After a moment, he sighed. “Yeah, maybe. But the board meeting is still on Monday, and even without Jerome, Wyatt may still be able to pull this off.”
“You never know what Monday will bring.” Before the words were all the way out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. With the way Hosea was frowning, she knew she’d said too much. She opened her arms and beckoned him to come to her. Said, “Can we not talk about this anymore? It’s too much with everything we have going on.”
He said, “Definitely,” just as glad as she was to change the subject.
She embraced her husband, but Jasmine’s smile didn’t come easy. After all Jerome had taken them through, after the way he’d taken Pastor Wyatt’s side against Hosea, after he’d sent those nasty e-mails to Mariah, she should have been clicking her heels in the air.
But there was a part of her heart that held no pleasure at the thought of this man’s fall from grace. She’d done the right thing, for lots of reasons, but she didn’t have the fullness of joy that she’d expected.
But there was no room or time for sorrow. She still had more work to do. Mrs. Whittingham had told her that Pastor Wyatt was returning tomorrow—a day before the meeting. And so tomorrow, she’d make her final move.
The Wyatts were the ones she wanted to bring down the most.
FIFTY-ONE
SHE HAD BEEN WAITING FOR this, waiting to see him ever since she’d returned from Hogeye Creek last Sunday.
Jasmine’s eyes tracked Pastor Wyatt as he sauntered through the church door in front of his wife. He strutted through the hall with the surety of a man who had all the winning numbers. And when he paused at Mrs. Whittingham’s desk and shot Jasmine a quick grin, she
noticed his dimple first—still deep, still inviting.
Only now, Jasmine knew who he was.
She didn’t take her eyes off of him or his wife.
Stopping in Hosea’s doorway, Pastor Wyatt straightened his jacket lapel before he boomed, “Good morning, Pastor.”
Jasmine had never heard Pastor Wyatt address Hosea that way. But she guessed his generosity came from his certainty that by the time next Sunday rolled around, he’d be the man sitting in the big chair behind the altar.
From inside his office, Hosea came to the door and shook the associate pastor’s hand. “Pastor Wyatt,” he began. “Welcome back.”
The two men stood, hands and eyes locked. And in that moment, Jasmine admired her husband even more—for looking into enemy eyes and still maintaining decorum. Because if it had been her, this moment would be going down in a totally different way.
“Well,” Pastor Wyatt said as he broke away from Hosea, “I’ll be in my office. You know, I like to spend a few minutes with the Lord before we begin the service.”
Jasmine didn’t care if he saw the way she rolled her eyes. He was lucky that she didn’t yell out, “Earvin, you need to quit.”
Pastor Wyatt motioned to Enid, who stood behind him with her hair exactly the way it had been last time Jasmine had seen her. But her eyebrows rose as she studied Enid’s suit. She couldn’t hate on the lavender two-piece St. John.
That witch is thinking she’s going to be the new first lady.
Enid scurried behind her husband as if he was the big man in charge. But Jasmine was sure that behind their closed doors, Enid Wyatt was the one in control. She had to be—Enid was the one who’d convinced everyone in Hogeye Creek that Earvin was Eugene; she’d given her brother-in-law a new life, a new hustle.
Jasmine’s head was shaking as she moved toward her husband. “I can’t stand that man,” she said to Hosea.
“Be careful, babe. It’s Sunday,” he joked.
She followed him into his office. “I don’t know how you can be so civil when you know what he’s trying to do to you.”
Hosea settled behind his desk. “What can I do? There’s no need for me to get mad or to say anything I’ll regret. Like you keep saying: it’s going to play out the way God wants it to.”
She nodded, though she knew the truth—this was going to play out the way she wanted it to.
She pressed her lips against her husband’s. “I’m going to check on Jacquie before I go into the sanctuary. I’ll see you out there.”
Inside the hallway, she paused in front of Pastor Wyatt’s office. She wanted to walk in there right now and tell the bogus pastor that the gig was up. Then Hosea wouldn’t even have to share the altar today with that man.
But this wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place. She already had her plan, and she could certainly wait a couple of hours.
Smiling, she stepped from the church into the sunlight. Inhaling, she took in the smells of spring—the flowers were already blooming, even in Harlem.
What a beautiful Sunday, the perfect day for Pastor Wyatt to meet the woman who was truly his match.
Sometimes Jasmine wondered if she needed a journal. It was getting difficult to keep track of all of the lies. Especially the ones she told about Malik.
Like the one she’d told Hosea when the second service ended an hour ago.
“Babe, can you take Jacquie home?” she had asked. “Malik sent me a text. He’s stuck in a meeting and he asked if I could stop by his office to clarify something.”
“On a Sunday?”
Jasmine had shrugged. “You know Malik is a workaholic. That’s why he goes to first service, so he can work after church.” And then, she did what she always did when she needed to take his attention away from what she was actually saying. She kissed him. Long and hard. “Don’t worry,” she said, when she finally pulled back, both of them breathless. “I’ll be home in an hour.”
That was her plan, she thought, as she handed the cab fare to the taxi driver. She would be home in an hour, maybe less.
And after today, she wouldn’t tell another lie. That was a promise she was making to herself and to God.
She slammed the cab door and then she tried to peek through the restaurant’s tinted window. But she couldn’t see much.
It was because of Mrs. Whittingham that she was here. When she’d asked if she knew where the Wyatts would be this afternoon, Mrs. Whittingham hadn’t even looked at her with any curiosity. She just told Jasmine what she needed to know.
“They usually go to B. Smith’s after church. I heard Enid making the reservations right before the second service,” Mrs. Whittingham had told her, as if she was an employee, reporting information to her boss.
The sounds of the Sunday brunch accosted her the moment Jasmine pulled open the restaurant’s heavy glass door. She pressed inside, squeezing behind the cluster of awaiting couples in the small space near the hostess’s desk.
Jasmine’s eyes slowly scanned the long, narrow restaurant until she spotted the Wyatts—in the back, in the corner. How appropriate.
“Excuse me,” she whispered as she pushed her way through the crowd. Her heart hammered heavier with each step she took.
At first, Jasmine hadn’t been sure if she’d wanted to talk to the Wyatts together. There were plenty of reasons why she’d thought about talking to Enid alone. First, Jasmine was convinced that Enid was the brains behind this hoax. And second, there was the fact that Earvin was not a good guy. There had to be some residue left over from his drug-dealing days. She didn’t know what the man was capable of.
That’s why she’d come up with this plan—confront them in public. There would be little Earvin or Enid could do.
“Hey,” Jasmine said. Moving quickly and smoothly, she slid into the booth side of their table next to Enid. “Imagine bumping into you two.”
She was already sitting down by the time Pastor Wyatt and Enid looked up.
“What…” That was all Enid could say as her fork, filled with a mouthful of rice pilaf, still hung in the air.
But while Enid was shocked, her husband kept on as if someone hadn’t just invaded their space.
He’s a cool one, Jasmine thought. She wasn’t surprised when he sliced his steak and a bit of red juice oozed from the blood-colored center.
“Hello, Lady Jasmine,” he said with a smirk, right before he slipped a small cube of medium-rare meat between his lips. Looking at Enid, he took a few chews before, “You know why she’s here, right?” As if Jasmine wasn’t sitting beside his wife, he continued, “She wants to beg for her husband’s position.”
He chuckled and Jasmine did, too. Enid was the only one who didn’t find any humor in this situation. But still, Enid nodded. Took the example set by her husband and kept on eating.
Jasmine sat back and smiled. For a moment, she wondered what kind of man Earvin Wyatt could have been if he’d had the right woman beside him.
“Now, I know we haven’t known each other very long,” Jasmine began, “but Pastor Wyatt, do you think I’d beg you for anything?”
He looked at her, his mouth stuffed with food, and chuckled again. “Oh, I can think of a few ways I could get you to beg.”
She couldn’t believe he’d said that. And in front of his wife. But the way Enid sat there, saying nothing, Jasmine had a new thought—these two probably weren’t even married.
“So you want to test it out, Jasmine?” He leaned closer to her. “You wanna test out this begging thing?”
“I’d rather have a root canal.”
His chuckle was louder this time.
“Plus,” she continued. “I don’t have to beg for a thing. Hosea’s position is pretty secure.”
“Well then,” Pastor Wyatt said, “obviously you haven’t heard about the vote we’re taking at the board meeting tomorrow.” He pointed his fork at her. “It was interesting the way you had the meeting postponed…”
Jasmine kept her face still, didn’t reveal a thing.
She wasn’t surprised, though, that he’d figured out she was behind the change. Game always recognized game.
He continued, “Yeah, I know it was you. Can’t figure out how you did it, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t stop what’s inevitable. Tomorrow, Hosea will be out.” He paused and leaned closer. “And guess what that means?”
“It doesn’t mean anything because you’re going to withdraw your request for a vote,” she said calmly. “You’re going to tell everyone that you want Hosea to remain the senior pastor.”
Pastor Wyatt leaned back and laughed, his guffaw blending with the chatter and clatter and laughter around them. He said, “Now, why would I do that?”
Jasmine leaned forward and rested her arms on the pristine tablecloth. “Because you wouldn’t want to be arrested.”
Even though she was inches away from Enid, Jasmine felt her stiffen. But not Pastor Wyatt. Not breaking his stride, he raised his fork again, this time the utensil was smothered with mashed potatoes. Slipping the fork into his mouth, he used his tongue to clean the gravy residue that lingered on his lips.
With naked desire, Jasmine watched the tip of his tongue outline the curve of his mouth. And like she always did when he was that bold, she sighed. But this time, she didn’t get mad at herself. She allowed the few moments to pass so that she could wallow and wonder in the pleasure of what might have been. Because in minutes, the Wyatts would have some decisions to make. And Jasmine didn’t know if she’d see this man, or his smoldering eyes, or his kissable lips, or his dimple, especially his deep dimple, ever again.
“Jasmine, from the things I’ve heard about you, I know that you don’t have much class,” he said.
She inhaled and swallowed her anger. There was no need to lose control.
“But, please, sweetheart,” Pastor Wyatt continued, “I’m sure you’ve had enough home training to know not to interrupt anyone’s dinner.”
She had planned to drag it out a bit more because she was enjoying this verbal sparring. But he’d made her mad. It was time to take him down.
Lady Jasmine Page 27
