“Why? I know the truth.”
“But the truth looks different to different people.” She shook her head. “The truth looks different depending on the messenger and like it or not, you’re not the best messenger. I just have a feeling that you need to let those two handle this situation. You already did your part.”
I took in Mae Frances’s words and I knew she was right. I had started this because I wanted to prove myself to Kyla. But very quickly it had changed — I really wanted to help the Blake’s who’d once been the dearest of friends. So, if my goal was to help, then how would telling Kyla do that?
This was handled. And anything Jefferson wanted to tell Kyla when he woke up, he would. I’d done my part — I’d taken away the blackmail threat.
She said, “And anyway, I doubt if your friend will remember anything when he wakes up. You know bullet injuries to the brain almost always affect memory at some level.”
I leaned back and gave Mae Frances a what-do-you-know about-that look.
“What?” she said. “One thing you do know about me, Jasmine Larson is that I was married to a doctor.”
“Yeah, but I never knew if he was a medical doctor or a PhD.” “Oh, he was a medical doctor.” She waved her hand, though, as if it were no big deal. “A neurosurgeon. One of the most prominent in the state of New York.”
Hmmmm … that was the most Mae Frances had ever told me. Maybe she was beginning to open up. Maybe it was because of Bubba. Maybe I would talk to him and together, we could get her to write that book.
But before I could ask her another question, I heard the beep of the front door alarm and I smiled. It was too soon for Mrs. Sloss, so that meant only one thing.
Leaving Mae Frances right there in the kitchen, I dashed down the hall and into the foyer. And my grin got wider.
“Baby,” I jumped into Hosea’s arms before he could blink. “You’re home.”
With my legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t even struggle to hold me up.
After a long kiss, he said, “I should go away more often.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Because I can’t sleep if you’re not in the bed with me and I miss you too much.” Planting my legs on the floor, I took his hand. “Come on. You’ll never guess who’s here.” I pulled him into the kitchen.
He grinned when he saw her. “Nama!”
She stood so that he could pull her into a hug. When he stepped back, she held his shoulders. “Good to see you, Preacher Man.”
“I know, it’s been a while and I want to catch up with all that’s been going on in Smackover.”
Mae Frances beamed.
Hosea said, “But I’m glad to have both of you here.” He looked from me to Mae Frances, and then, his smile faded away. He folded his arms. “So which one of you is going to tell me … what the hell is going on?”
***
I guess there was no such thing as client-banker privilege. I knew that Felix Winsome was a tattler, worse than my children, and the next time I saw him, I was going to call him that right to his face.
But right now, all I could do was watch Hosea as he paced back and forth in front of me and Mae Frances as we sat on the living room couch. It felt like we were in the courtroom, both of us defendants, sitting before the judge and the jury.
Hosea stopped moving just to ask, “So, that’s everything?”
I nodded and Mae Frances did, too. We’d just told Hosea the whole story of Lola Lewis, picking up from the lie I’d told him about her and Dr. Reid to Mae Frances finding out about Lola and us confronting her yesterday. It was the complete truth that I had never planned to tell — before Felix Winsome had turned me in. “That’s every single thing, Preacher Man.”
But while Hosea was focused on Lola, my mind was still on my turncoat banker. “I still can’t believe Felix called you.”
There was exasperation in Hosea’s tone when he said, “Jasmine, the poor man thought you’d been kidnapped or something just as horrible. He knew you were in trouble coming into the bank asking for all of that money … in cash. What else was he supposed to do?”
“He should have asked me.”
“He did. And you wouldn’t tell him the truth. He knew you were lying. You think you’re so good at that, but you’re not anymore. Just like I knew that was a bogus story you told me about Lola and Doctor Reid.”
Dang! I thought I’d passed his lie-detector test.
Hosea continued, “But I didn’t say anything. I was waiting to see what you were doing, waiting for you to come to me.” He shook his head. “And the other night when you asked me to trust you — I had no idea you were going to run to the bank or I wouldn’t have trusted a thing.” He paused. “Where’s the money now?”
“In our bedroom. I was going to take it back today.”
Hosea shook his head. “Wait for me. We’ll do it together, later.”
I nodded, then said, “I’m sorry but the only reason I didn’t tell you is because I knew you would stop me.”
“Isn’t that why you never tell me?” “I just wanted to help Kyla.”
He gave me a long stare and then after a longer sigh, he pulled me up from the sofa and into his arms. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Mae Frances dab at the corner of her eye. Like there was a tear about to fall.
That made me smile. I remembered the days when Mae Frances and I first met. When she didn’t trust men nor God (because He was a man, too.) But she’d come so far in the years of our friendship. And I suspected this crying episode had something to do with Bubba. That man, my uncle, had made her soft.
Hosea leaned back and my thoughts shifted away from Mae Frances and Bubba. He said, “Darlin’, I completely understand you wanting to help Kyla, but you still should have told me.”
“Would you have tried to stop me?”
“I wouldn’t have done it just to be stopping you. What you did was good because we needed to find out what happened to Jefferson, what that woman had done. We just would have done it differently.”
“And ‘differently’ would have slowed us down. How long did this take me?”
“And me.” Mae Frances held up her hand.
He chuckled as his glance moved between us. “You do know that we’re all getting too old for this.”
“Who you calling old?” I asked him with a grin. But then, I got serious. “I’m sorry, Hosea, I really thought we were doing the right thing.”
He nodded. “Because you’re still trying to prove to Kyla which is something that I told you that you can’t do.”
“I was trying to help Kyla.”
“Well if that’s the truth, there’s one last thing you have to do.” He turned to Mae Frances. “The both of you, we have to go to the police.”
“No! Preacher Man,” Mae Frances said. “I’m no fan of this woman, but if we report her to the police ….”
“She’ll go to jail,” Hosea finished for her. Releasing my hand, Hosea sat down next to Mae Frances. Now, he took her hand. “I get why you want to forgive this woman. From what you told me, she’s had a hard life. But if you really want to help her, she has to change her ways.”
“Oh, don’t worry Preacher Man, she’ll be different now. I bet you she won’t mess with another one of my friends.”
Hosea gave Mae Frances a long sideward glance. “Is that good enough for you? Just your friends? What about everyone else she’s out there blackmailing?”
“Well ….” Mae Frances began, but stopped there.
“Don’t you see you’re not really helping her? There will never be any real redemption for her if she doesn’t have to face all that she’s done. She’s hurt so many people and she’ll never stop. She’ll never have a chance to heal from whatever put her in this place. She’ll never have a chance to be better if no one asks her to become better.” He paused as if he wanted to give us a moment to think about this. “That’s what you’ll be doing by going to the police.”
Mae Frances lowered her head and nodded.“I get th
at, Preacher Man, but there’s a lot that you don’t know about me ….”
“Whatever happened in the past, Mae Frances, doesn’t matter.” “Yes, it does. I wasn’t that different from Lola in my earlier days, and at any point, someone could have turned me in, but they didn’t.”
“But you met Jasmine, and in a way, she demanded that you be better when she made that bet with you to go to church.”
Mae Frances leaned back. “You knew about that? You knew about that bet Jasmine Larson forced on me?”
Both Hosea and I smirked and I was glad that I could look back at that time now without complete heartbreak. It was in 2006, right after Hosea and I were married when he left me because he found out that Jacqueline wasn’t his biological daughter. I had prayed and prayed that he would come back. And Mae Frances had laughed and laughed because she said my faith was stupid.
But I believed that Hosea and I would reconcile and I bet Mae Frances a Bible and a year of going to church with me. And I’d won — or rather Mae Frances did. Because just a couple of good Sundays of the Word from Hosea’s father and she’d thrown herself on the altar.
Hosea said, “Yeah, you’re not the only one who knows things. I know a little about who you used to be, but what I know best is who you are now. You were given another chance and I want the same for Lola.”
After a moment, Mae Frances shook her head. “I just don’t think I can do it, Preacher Man.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there with you.” He stood and looked at me and Mae Frances. It no longer felt like he was the judge and jury. Now, he was just the judge and he’d pronounced the verdict. He glanced at his watch. “I’m gonna head to the church for about an hour and I’ll call Detective Green while I’m there. Then, I’ll pick you two up and we’ll head to the police station.”
This was the sentencing.
He said nothing else, just kissed my cheek and leaned over to hug Mae Frances before he left us alone.
Even though I sat back down next to Mae Frances, I didn’t say a word until I heard the beep of the alarm, signaling that Hosea had left.
Still I waited for a moment before I asked, “So, what do you think?”
Her eyes were on the windows. We were too high up to see the park without standing, but still, we had a phenomenal view of uptown Manhattan.
She sighed.“The man of God has spoken, and I ain’t never been one to fight the Lord above.”
I smiled. There was no reason to remind her that her words weren’t true ‘cause she hadn’t always been saved. And there was no reason for me to feel bad about this either. Now that I knew Jefferson hadn’t had an affair, it was fine that Kyla found out. I just wouldn’t be the one to tell her.
The only thing, though — I prayed she never saw those pictures. Because even though it was all staged, it looked too much like the truth. It would be hard for Kyla to get those images out of her mind.
Maybe the detective would have good sense not to show them to her. Or maybe I wouldn’t take the chance. If I had to go talk to this man, I was going to tell him a few things about married women.
chapter 31
Kyla
“If I work this out right, I’ll be back with our lunches before Dad wakes up and we can eat with him.” Nicole clapped her hands and I laughed, though I tried to keep it low.
Both of us glanced at Jefferson, sleeping once again.
“Okay, sweetheart,” I said. “He’ll be out for a while, so don’t rush.”
“Oh, no. I have to get back. That restaurant that Auntie Jasmine took us to,” she kissed the tips of her fingers, “manifique.”
“What? Now, you’re speaking French?”
“Well, magnificent is not as sexy in Mandarin.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then did the same with her father before she scurried out of the room.
I glanced down at my tablet. “Do not let your hearts be troubled ….” I whispered the first words to my favorite chapter in the Bible as I read the scripture.
But then, my eyes rose and I glanced out the window. There wasn’t much to see from this view in Jefferson’s room, just the backs of nondescript gray and brown brick buildings that surrounded the hospital.
It didn’t matter, though. It was a glorious Saturday, my second weekend in the city. But unlike last week, my heart was far from troubled and my smiles were wide with hope. Because every day, Jefferson was so much stronger. That was the blessing for him. And the blessing for me: he’d stopped saying Lola. He hadn’t uttered that name for the last two days.
What he said most now was, ‘I love you,’ words that for a while, I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear him say again. And words that made me almost forget about Lola … and that woman … or if Lola was that woman.
Almost.
Twisting in the chair, I turned to look at my husband. He still slept more than he was awake, but the key was that he awakened on his own, to eat, for therapy, and to say, ‘I love you’ to me and Nicole. That was an accomplishment. To this point that was the longest sentence he’d uttered.
The thought of that made me stand, lay my tablet on the chair, and then I tiptoed to Jefferson’s bedside. Leaning against the rail, I stared down at my husband.
There was no doubt — thoughts of that woman were still heavy on my mind, but looking down at Jefferson now, I knew I couldn’t keep my focus on her. It might be that I would never find the answer, never figure out the connection.
And that was going to have to be okay. Right now, I needed to keep my focus one hundred percent on my husband because what I knew for sure was that Jefferson loved me. That, he remembered. And so would I.
As soon as I had that thought, Jefferson’s eyes fluttered open.
He blinked a couple of times, then focused his gaze on me. “I love you,” he whispered through dry lips.
Leaning over, I kissed him, lightly running my tongue over his lips. Then, I raised the back of his bed and held the cup as he sipped water. When he nodded, I pulled the straw away.
“How are you feeling?”
He nodded. “Good. Tired.”
I took his hand into mine and lifted his fingers to my chest. “I love you, too.”
The knock on the door made me stand up straighter and my eyes widened when Detective Green entered.
“Detective?” I knew it was him, but my confusion with seeing him here made his name come out as a question.
“Mrs. Blake.” He nodded at me, then he glanced at my husband. “Doctor Blake.”
Jefferson just stared.
I said, “What are you doing here?”
“Well, there was a new development and I wanted to talk to you … and Doctor Blake.”
“Oh.” I glanced at Jefferson, not sure that he was ready for this … and not sure that I was ready for Jefferson to hear anything that the detective would have to say.
The detective said, “I spoke to Doctor Reid and he said that it was fine.” His eyes were on Jefferson now. “The doctor told me that you’re recovering and I’m glad about that.”
“Detective Green, I’m not sure this is a good idea.” My glance volleyed between my husband and the detective. “I don’t mind speaking with you, but I’d rather wait for Jefferson ….”
“No.” Jefferson’s protest was husky, but strong and clear. “I. Want. Talk.”
“Thank you, Doctor Blake.” Detective Green stepped forward as if Jefferson’s words were a good enough invitation for him. “I promise, this won’t take long.”
Still, I shook my head, but Jefferson nodded his and I guessed the guy coming out of a coma trumped his conscious wife.
Before the detective could say anything else, I said, “Detective, we haven’t talked to my husband about ….”
“I. Was. Shot.”
The detective stepped closer. “Do you remember that, Doctor Blake?”
There was no time for a proper introduction. It seemed that Jefferson really did want to talk about this. I kept my eyes on Jefferson because at the first
sign of any challenges for him, I was going to chase this cop right out of here.
Jefferson nodded at the detective and repeated, “Shot. Gun.” “Yes. Well, we have the man who shot you.”
He nodded again and I wasn’t quite sure that Jefferson really understood; I would have expected more of a reaction.
Detective Green said, “When you’re feeling better, we’ll get a complete statement from you about the shooting.”
Another nod.
“But I came here today to talk to you about Lola Lewis.” Lola!
My eyes shot from my husband to the detective. “Lola Lewis?” For the first time, the detective was the one to nod.
“So that’s her name? The woman?” “Yes, it seems like it.”
“I thought you stopped looking for her.” He was the detective, but I was the one with all the questions.
“Well, a witness came in and told us quite a story.”Turning back to my husband, he went back into detective-mode. “Doctor Blake, do you know Lola Lewis?”
Jefferson frowned, but shook his head. “Are you sure? Lola Lewis?”
Again, he shook his head and the detective and I sighed, though I was sure it was for different reasons. Mine was filled with relief. Jefferson didn’t know that woman. Just like the doctor said, he was just uttering that word. There was no connection.
And then, Jefferson said, “Lola. Blackmail.” My heart returned to my throat.
Detective Green was so close to Jefferson’s bed, I thought he was going to crawl in with him. It sounded like there was a little excitement in his tone when he repeated what Jefferson said. “Blackmail? What can you tell me about that?”
Jefferson opened his mouth, but once again, said only, “Lola. Blackmail.” He shifted in the bed, moving from side-to-side as if he wanted to tell us more.
“Sweetheart,” I said, hoping that would calm him down.
He took a deep breath and repeated the word, shifting once again.
“Detective,” I said. “I don’t think my husband is ready ….” “No.” It was almost a shout, the loudest that Jefferson had spoken. Then, he motioned with his hand and the detective and I stared at him.
Temptation: The Aftermath Page 26
