The Other Side of Goodness

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Gabrielle could feel the tears making their way down her face. She wiped hard at them, determined not to let them win this time. “What is it?”

  “First, I need you to promise me . . . you’ll take care of my Jasmine for me.”

  “You know you don’t even have to ask that,” Gabrielle said, patting her hand.

  Jessica closed her eyes and was silent. She was still for so long that Gabrielle thought she may have fallen asleep again . . . or worse. She saw her chest continue to rise and fall. She quietly released a sigh of relief. As soon as Gabrielle had almost decided to sit down, Jessica opened her eyes. Her eyelids had fluttered as she’d fought to open them.

  “Gabrielle?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Gabrielle, I need you to help me tell Jasmine the truth . . . about her birth. She needs to know . . . now.”

  Gabrielle began shaking her head. “I don’t think she needs to be told that, not right now anyway. There’s too much going on. We’ll wait until you’re better and get out of here.”

  “Yes, she needs . . . to know . . . now.” Jessica reached like a blind woman, for Gabrielle’s hand. She tried to squeeze it, but there was no strength left in her. “I need you . . . to help me . . . tell her. We need to tell her . . . before I make . . . my transition. I don’t want her to . . . hold this against me . . . thinking I lied to her . . . all of these years. I need her to feel . . . like . . . I told her . . . the truth . . . myself.”

  Gabrielle placed her hand tightly over her own mouth, just in case the primal cry she felt forming deep inside her belly might somehow make its way up and out.

  “Please. I need you to help me . . . tell her.” Jessica’s eyes closed once again. “All of it . . . including who you are . . . to her. She’ll need to know this. She’ll need to know that . . . she’s not going to be . . . alone . . . once I’m no longer . . . here.”

  “But we can wait—”

  “No . . . we can’t. We’ve run out of time. And Jasmine needs . . . to know . . . just how much . . . she’s loved.” Tears were streaming from Jessica’s eyes, pooling into her ears and past them. Gabrielle got tissue and wiped her tears away.

  “Very soon . . . Jesus will wipe . . . my tears . . . away.” Jessica tried to smile. “Gabrielle, you gave me . . . and my husband . . . the most beautiful gift . . . we could have ever asked for, ” Jessica said. “And now . . . reluctantly . . . but graciously . . . I am giving that gift . . . back to you. Live each day . . . with happiness . . . when . . . and wherever . . . you find it, Gab . . . rielle. I’ve discovered. . . through my years . . . of living . . . on this earth . . . that when we live . . . and we give . . . of ourselves . . . we find that . . . we never . . . actually die. Live . . . and continue to give. Promise me . . . you will . . . tell her . . .” Jessica was quiet again.

  Gabrielle waited, fully expecting Jessica to open her eyes again so they could finish their conversation. Zachary and Jasmine returned thirty minutes later with a cute little brown, animated, get-well bear. Jasmine sat near her mother, cuddling the bear, waiting patiently for her mother to open her eyes so she could give her the present she’d so excitedly gotten Zachary to buy her.

  But Jessica never opened her eyes again.

  Chapter 45

  Wisdom is better than weapons of war: but one sinner destroyeth much good.

  —Ecclesiastes 9:18

  Darius sent Paris a text informing her that the mother of the little girl that had needed the bone marrow transplant last year had died.

  Paris just thought he was trying to get back in her good graces since she’d blasted him for meeting with her father behind her back. He’d explained the reason he’d done it. He claimed he was trying to get more information that might help her in her quest of learning the truth. After all, Paris was the one who initially posed the idea that her father had a little more invested in that little girl’s welfare than mere concern. Darius had thrown Gabrielle’s name in the mix just to see how Lawrence might react to hearing her name. After all, a little perturbed by it, Paris was the one who had mentioned Gabrielle was there when she and her sister went to visit the little girl.

  As for him asking for a job working in her father’s campaign (which he was the one who told her, since her father really hadn’t clued her in on exactly what Darius had said or done), Darius said, “I need a job. Pure and simple. I need a way to take care of my family. They’re closing down the place where I worked, and shipping all of our jobs overseas. I have obligations. You can’t fault a good man for trying to obtain work.” He then laughed and said, “You know what the Bible says. If a man don’t work, he don’t eat. Well, I was merely trying to get some work. And if you happen to have any clout with your father, I’d surely appreciate it if you’d put in a good word for a brotha.”

  “The way my daddy sounded, I don’t think he’ll ever even consider hiring you. He was livid.”

  “He might. If I happen to come across something that’s of value or true interest to him, I can see him jumping to hire me then,” Darius said.

  But Paris had decided to cool it with Darius. She didn’t like him doing things like that. He didn’t even discuss it with her, he just did it. And if her father hadn’t clued her in, she’d still be in the dark about it. It made her feel like she really couldn’t trust him. She had issues with trusting folks as it was. But Darius was a smooth operator. And he’d made some good points, telling her that he only had her best interest at heart. And that if he was to get on with her father’s campaign, it would give him more of an excuse to run into her more often.

  She’d blushed when he said that, but acted as though what he’d said hadn’t fazed her a bit. She merely said, “Just don’t be doing anything like that again. I don’t like the conversation me and my daddy had. Especially when I don’t have a clue what he’s chewing me out about. And now he’s suspicious of me and you. He thinks we’re in cahoots together against him.”

  Darius laughed. “But we are.”

  “We’re not exactly in cahoots against him. We’re just working all of this out and—”

  “And we work better together than you merely doing it on your own,” Darius said.

  So (after almost two weeks of reaching out to her) here was Darius with this text, apprising her of something that she likely would not have otherwise heard. Jessica Noble, the mother of Jasmine Noble, who’d needed a bone marrow donor and miraculously had received one who matched perfectly, had died. Paris called Darius after she finished reading his text that briefly read, Jessica N, the lil girl’s ma, died.

  Darius was laughing when he answered her call. “You know, I was hoping you’d call soon. So . . . you still upset with me?”

  “I wasn’t upset,” Paris said, scrunching her mouth as she spoke. He really did have some annoying traits about him.

  “Yes, you were. You wouldn’t take my calls or call me back. So you were mad still.”

  “Okay, about Jessica Noble? How do you know about this?”

  “I told you that Gabrielle Mercedes goes to the same church I go to. She was there with the little girl today. I think the mother’s funeral was yesterday. Pastor Landris called the little girl and Gabrielle up to the front so the church could pray for the two of them. The sad part is they say the little girl’s mother died on the little girl’s birthday. Can you imagine your parent dying on the same day that you celebrate your birthday? But Pastor Landris prayed a powerful prayer over both the little girl and Gabrielle.”

  “I don’t get that. Why is she with Gabrielle?”

  “I don’t know. But from everything I was able to gather, apparently Gabrielle is her guardian now. Maybe she’s planning on adopting her or something. Who knows?”

  “Over my dead body she will!” Paris said.

  “Wow! Listen to you. There certainly is no love lost between the two of you. I guess that means you must know all about her past life.”

  “What about her past life? What do you know about her? I just tho
ught you said she went to your church?”

  Darius chuckled. “You know . . . I could tell you all of this a lot easier in person. I’m not much of a phone person myself. Besides, I’m using up my minutes. So why don’t you agree to meet me somewhere, and I’ll tell you all about Gabrielle and her fascinating colorful past.”

  “It’s Sunday afternoon. Cell minutes are free on the weekends. Besides, I can’t. I have something to do,” Paris lied.

  “Oh. Okay. Well, when you’re free, hit me up, and we’ll see if we can’t get together then. This information will definitely keep. Now keep in mind that when you call me, it might not be a good time for me. You know, I have this family thing going on and all. And my wife’s been hovering over me a lot lately, so I have to stay closer to home more than normal. Of course, she and the kids are gone right now. They’ll be gone for a few more hours. But now if I could get that job I asked your father for, then I would be a lot freer to come and go without her on me like white on rice.”

  “You do know that while you’re going on and on about this, you could have told me what you know about Gabrielle. I don’t want her getting that little girl.”

  “Well, the way you’re responding to the news, it’s like you already know. Let’s meet for a cup of java or whatever you like to drink. I’m down for whatever.”

  “I knew Gabrielle when she and I were eighteen. We ran into each other about four months ago. And then, again, the other week.”

  “Well, I can tell you that what I know was well after she was eighteen. So let’s say we’ll meet at the Starbucks on 280 in about . . . twenty minutes?”

  “If I was going to meet you, I definitely wouldn’t meet you at that one. Too many folks know me at that one.”

  “Okay. Which one then? You name the place, and I’ll meet you. There’s a Starbucks in Trussville, one in the old Eastwood Mall area.”

  “The old Eastwood Mall area would work. I don’t think I’ll run into anyone who might know me at that one.”

  “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong,” Darius said. “We’re just meeting for coffee to talk.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”

  “On my way out of the door as we speak,” Paris said, then clicked her phone off.

  Darius was there waiting when she arrived. He stood as she strolled in, then sat down after helping her with her chair. Oh, Darius was a smooth operator for sure!

  “Okay, I don’t have but about fifteen minutes,” Paris said. “So tell me: What do you know about Gabrielle Booker . . . Gabrielle Mercedes, whatever was or is her name.”

  Darius grinned, showing almost all of his pearls. “Wow, who knew that there was so much bad blood there? Although, having personally interacted with her a few times myself, I can see why you might feel the way that you do. She thinks she’s all that, but she can’t hold a candle to you.”

  “Save the corny flattery for someone who’ll fall for it,” Paris said. “Just tell me what you know, and I mean don’t leave anything out, either.”

  “Let me get us something to drink first. We don’t want them throwing us out for loitering or not patronizing their establishment.”

  “Okay, fine. Get me a latte.”

  Darius nodded, smiled, went, and came back with their beverages.

  Paris carefully picked hers from off the table where he’d set it. “Now quit stalling, and tell me.”

  He grinned. “Gabrielle Mercedes used to be a stripper.”

  Paris’s eyes widened as she jerked back, almost spilling hot latte onto her lap. “You’re lying! Now I know she’ll go after someone else’s man, because she went after one of mine. But stripping? A stripper?” Paris shook her head and primped her mouth. “Nah, I don’t believe that for a minute. People will say all kinds of things about others. There’s no telling what lies folks have said about me.”

  Darius leaned in. “Well, I happen to know for a fact that this is true. She was an exotic dancer who went by the name of Goodness and Mercy.”

  “Goodness and Mercy? And you know this for a fact? So what are you saying? That you saw her as Goodness and Mercy with your own two little eyes.”

  He took a careful sip from his cup. “Yep. You can say that I may have seen her with my own eyes. Although, I’d prefer we keep that between me and you.”

  “So what you’re saying is that you don’t want me to mention this tidbit of information to your wife?” Paris laughed.

  “Well, my wife sort of already knows. Some bigmouth at church told it.”

  “Sounds to me like you attend a really interesting church. Gossipers, liars, and strippers, oh my.”

  “Oh, it just sounds like that,” Darius said. “Pastor Landris preached a sermon sometime back on how even though we might be saved now, we’re all still an ex-something. Of course, there are plenty of folks still wallowing in their wrongdoing. But Gabrielle gave her life to Christ. She left the stripping business behind.”

  “And she’s the director of the church’s dance ministry? She gave me her business card that said that.”

  “She was. She’s on a leave of absence or something, Tiffany was telling me. But she is saved and a new creature in Christ now. I told you: My pastor preached on that so we don’t go there.”

  Paris took another sip of her latte. “What about you?”

  “Me? What about me?”

  “What are you an ex of? But I suppose more importantly, what are you still doing that you shouldn’t be?”

  He laughed and leaned in on his folded arms. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  Paris knew what he was doing. She wasn’t going to fall into his little trap. She started playing with her hair. “So . . . Gabrielle was a stripper, huh? She’s unmarried. And now you’re telling me that an unmarried, former stripper has that beautiful little girl with her?”

  “It looks that way.”

  “Well, it won’t look that way for long. I’ll be doggone if I’m going to sit around and just let something like that happen. Not on my watch.”

  “What do you care? It’s just some kid who probably has more troubles than she’s worth, especially after having a transplant.”

  Paris stood up. “Don’t you worry about why I care. You just keep your eyes and ears open, and let me know what you hear where Gabrielle Mercedes is concerned.”

  He stood and gave Paris a military-type salute. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

  She grinned. “Stop that!”

  “Just here to please you, ma’am,” Darius said. They headed for the door. He leaned down, placed his hand in the small of her back, and placing his mouth right on her ear, he whispered, “Just here to please you.”

  Chapter 46

  Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savor: so doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honor.

  —Ecclesiastes 10:1

  After Paris got home from her meeting with Darius, she called her father and asked him over. Andrew was gone; he’d left to go play golf as soon as he came home from church. So she and her father would be perfectly free to say whatever they wanted or needed.

  She opened the door and gave her father a hug. They then went to the den.

  “Daddy, I don’t want to play games or beat around the bush. So I’m going to get straight to the point.”

  “That’s fine. I like getting straight to the point. That also means that I can get back home in time to catch my basketball game that starts in about an hour. So what’s up? You and Andrew still having problems?”

  “No, this isn’t about me and Andrew. It’s about you and Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine? Jasmine who?”

  “Jasmine, the little girl that needed the bone marrow transplant,” Paris said.

  “Why are we talking about her? If you’ll recall, you didn’t care to take part in the donor process. But as it was, things turned out just fine witho
ut you.” Lawrence angled his body more squarely her way as he touched his fingers together like he was clapping with them.

  “We’re talking about her because I know the truth.”

  Lawrence chuckled and scooted back a little on the couch. “The truth about what, Paris? You’re making no sense at all.”

  “Oh, stop it, Daddy! Just stop it! No one is here but you and me. Drop the act. We don’t have time to play around. Look, I know that Jasmine is your daughter, okay?”

  Lawrence’s smile instantly fell as he drew his head back as in shock. “My daughter? Now you’re really talking crazy talk.”

  Paris picked up a magazine off the coffee table, retrieved a photo she’d put there earlier, and handed it to him.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “What does it look like, Daddy?”

  He continued to gaze down at the photo. “Well, it looks like Imani and some girl that I don’t know. Is this a friend of Imani’s? What?”

  “Does that little girl, that you say you don’t know, look like anybody that you do know?”

  “Not really. Why? Should she?”

  “Daddy, look at how much she and Imani favor. Look at their eyes. They have identical eyes.”

  “Okay, so they favor, according to you,” Lawrence said, setting the picture on top of the magazine. “What’s the big deal?”

  Paris reached over and picked up the picture. “The big deal is that this girl on the picture with Imani is the girl that Imani matched and was a bone marrow donor for. That’s the big deal.”

  Paris watched as the coloring literally seemed to drain from her father’s face. “Where did you get this? How do you happen to have a picture with my daughter and that little girl? How!”

  “I have it, Daddy, because I took Imani to see her, and I took this picture of the two of them together. That’s how I happen to have it.”