by Pat Simmons
“Oh well, duty calls, Professor Jamieson.” Shrugging, Gabrielle began clapping, which ignited a round of applause.
Reluctantly, Cameron made his way through the gathering to the front and accepted the microphone from Denise. “Your timing is terrible. My older brother is just as capable,” he mumbled.
“But you’re cuter than your brothers.” Denise batted her eyes, trying to butter him up.
“You’ve got that right.” Cameron cleared his throat and surveyed those in attendance. White faces, Black faces, and blends of color in between all stared back at him. Old timers, toddlers, and teenagers represented the multi generations.
“My tenth great-grandfather, Paki Kokumuo Jaja, was the firstborn son of King Seif and Princess Adaeze,” he began. “He was twenty years old when he and his entourage were attacked. Tall, healthy, fearless, and good-looking, Paki was sold at the highest bid of $275 to wealthy slave owner, Jethro Turner, in front of Sinner’s Hotel in Maryland. The slaveholder’s only daughter, Elaine, became his common-law wife as they escaped, becoming fugitives.”
Cameron paused and eyed the spot where he left Gabrielle standing. Talise and Ace were by her side. Satisfied that she wasn’t alone, he continued. “They had five sons who lived. My tenth grandfather, Parker, was the eldest. Descendants kept the name until after slavery when the ‘r’ was eliminated to symbolize enslavement was removed from society—or so he thought. We have researched King Seif’s tribe and roots as well as Jethro’s family.”
Denise stepped to his side and swiped the microphone. “I told you his mind is endless with knowledge about our heritage.” She fumbled with a few index cards before reading from one. “Paki’s brothers were Aasim, Fabunni, Sarda, and Orma. My family members are descendants of the youngest brother, Orma, who actually sold himself into slavery for the woman he loved, but I’ll talk about that last.”
Squinting, Denise glanced through the crowd. “Are there any descendants of Fabunni here today? If so, please come forward and introduce yourself and family.”
After tracking a couple of censuses, Cameron discovered that Fabunni was the fairest of the bunch, and his descendants were routinely classified or passed as White. Before a hand went up, Cameron had already pinpointed them.
By all outward appearances, they were the only Whites in the group. From their appearance, he guessed they were probably the politicians he’d heard about or from some other part of the elite society. On the other hand, the Black Jamiesons, including himself, weren’t hurting financially either. A tall, slender man with sandy-brown hair and green eyes made his way to the front. His proud walk mimicked Cameron’s.
Taking the man’s presence as a cue to return to Gabrielle’s side, Cameron slipped away. When he rejoined her, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned on him for support. He relished in the moment of being missed.
A strong voice commanded everyone’s attention. “My name is Hugh Jamison Jr., spelled without the ‘e’. My wife and children are here, along with two of my brothers. We came purely out of curiosity. We are aware that our distant grandfather, Jethro Turner, was one of the largest slaveholders, like Robert Jemison.”
Cameron couldn’t tell if he was indifferent to that fact or embarrassed. He would withhold judgment until Hugh finished. When a breeze stirred Gabrielle’s hair near his nose, he planted a kiss on the top of her head, which earned him a squeeze.
“We were able to find a picture of Elaine as a teenager in a newspaper article that reported her kidnapping.” He cleared his throat. “Or escape. That’s where the trail ended. I don’t know if it was my great-great-great grandfather’s intention to hide the fact that we have Black blood or not, but we grew up as privileged Whites. I regret to say that he enslaved African-Americans. We didn’t know that our freedom came by chance, while many of our cousins couldn’t buy their freedom.” Hugh sighed and bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”
Denise and others nearby embraced Hugh. The moment was surreal as everyone reflected on what Hugh had said.
“My people are destroyed from the lack of knowledge—Hosea 4:6,” Gabrielle whispered.
Cameron held his breath and didn’t respond to his woman’s comment. She amazed and sometimes annoyed him when she applied a biblical context to what was happening in everyday life. However, this time he agreed with her. If those who appeared White knew that African blood ran through their veins, perhaps they could have made a difference and lessened the sufferings of their African descendants.
Once Hugh composed himself, he headed back in the direction of his family. Some in the crowd delayed him with handshakes and hugs.
Next, Denise asked for any descendants of the second oldest brother, Aasim. Two elderly gentlemen with blue-black skin and a head full of bristled gray hair made their way through the crowd. Both were on canes, but when one of them took the microphone, he stood erect.
“My name is Theodore Franklin Jamieson, with the ‘e.’ I’m eighty-seven years old, and here is my baby brother, Jess. He doesn’t have a middle name. He’s eighty-three. It’s just the two of us now. The others have all died off. My papa never talked too much about his papa except he was a runaway from the law. I married three times and outlived all of them wives. I got all my teeth and hair, and I can drive if anybody wants to be wife number four.”
Snickering echoed through the crowd. Grandma BB who rode with Parke stood nearby. Cameron heard her mumble, “Don’t look at me. I’ve got my own hair and teeth too. I’m a mean momma behind the wheel. I don’t need a chauffeur like Driving Miss Daisy.”
Shhh, someone hushed her. Cameron and Gabrielle exchanged grins.
Denise was the last to talk about her eleventh great-grandfather, Orma. He sold himself into slavery to be with Sashe, who was enslaved. She also mentioned there were rotten apples in the family tree, including her father, Samuel.
“But I do thank God for the siblings my dad left behind. There were eleven of us. Two are now deceased, which is why I was in a hurry to meet you all.”
Cameron braced himself for Gabrielle’s Bible footnote. When not even a sigh came, he said, “Tomorrow’s not promised.” Evidently, she was too slow to call it.
“Something like that. Proverbs 27:1.”
He groaned first, laughed under his breath, and then squeezed her tight. “Woman, you are not only too smart for your own good, but you have me beat.”
She looked up into his eyes. Then, closing her own, she offered her cheek for a kiss. He didn’t disappoint, although he would have preferred her lips. “I’m proud of you too. The gifts that God has given you have wooed me.”
“Finally.” Cameron said with a grin. “It only took me how many months to accomplish that feat?”
Playfully punching him in the stomach, he grabbed her hand and redirected his attention to Denise.
“There are nine of us remaining, and we’re a force to be reckoned with,” Denise continued. “My siblings are Mayson, Jayson, Benjamin, Lacey, Zaki, Kidd, Ace, and Queen. Will my brothers and sisters join me up front now, please?”
Immediately, Cameron zeroed in on Kidd. His stance was defiant with his arms folded and face expressionless. Would his cousin comply? Kidd confessed that he was happy with his walk with Jesus, but it took his wife to quote numerous Scriptures about loving thy neighbor, enemies, and brothers to get him there. He stipulated that he would not be pushed on others for fake smiles and handshakes. Kidd would have the last word on whom he would embrace and how he would interact with his half siblings.
To Cameron, it didn’t matter that he and Ace were products of an illegitimate affair. Cameron loved and embraced them in the same way he was sure other family members would.
“Unfortunately, there is one missing link, the descendants of Sarda. Before we take our tour throughout the house, I want us to promise ourselves to make an effort to bring them into the fold,” Denise requested.
While her siblings obeyed her summons, many nodded and a chorus of “Amens” and “yeahs”
floated through the crowd. Kidd walked boldly to the front with Ace trailing. Although he stood among his siblings, Kidd’s expression remained stoic. Immediately, he folded his arms. After a brief applause, Denise thanked her brothers and sisters and the family started to migrate toward the mansion.
“Denise really outdid herself,” Gabrielle said, “and it all started because of her quest for family unity. Maybe I need to talk to my parents, especially my dad, about our New Orleans roots.”
“Is there a Bible verse you want to cap off your statement,” he joked, towering over her.
“You know me so well. I want to date you with Christian dignity. Recalling Scriptures around you is my defense mechanism to keep me from falling victim to your charm. However, just so I don’t disappoint you,” she stopped and grinned, “during Denise’s inspiring presentation, I thought about the great gathering of the saints in the rapture.”
Cameron grimaced while Gabrielle finished her thought. “You can look up the passage for yourself. The bottom line is I want us, not just me, to be included in that great day. Heaven is a one-time shot, Cameron. I don’t dare miss it.”
“We’re in this together, babe. I just don’t think about Jesus 24/7. If I had to have a one-track mind, it would definitely be on you. My spiritual readiness is intact.”
“When I said that I loved you, I meant it. But here’s the footnote you wanted. I love God more, and I will walk away if I have to.”
The assault on his ego was swift. He looked at Gabrielle as if his eyes were crossed. “What? Just like that?” He snapped his fingers.
Standing her ground, she nodded slowly. Struggling to confirm her words, Gabrielle whispered as a tear escaped, “Just like that.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Gabrielle had to make Cameron believe her about the importance of her whole armor of salvation. She desperately wanted them to be in one accord with their faith. Hugs, kisses, and saying “I love you” couldn’t compromise her conviction. She could thank Sandra for reminding her of that.
Still struggling to keep her emotions in check, she was reminded of the saying, “You’d better stand for something, or you’ll fall for anything.” Unfortunately, she couldn’t bear to see the hurt her warning had inflicted.
If it didn’t involve her cousin, Denise would probably say about the situation, “He’ll get over it.”
As she blended in with the group entering the mansion, Gabrielle hoped so.
Stately long windows framing both sides of the massive front door were showcased by even taller archways that embellished the seemingly endless wraparound porch. Numerous tables and chair groupings were dotted everywhere, reminding Gabrielle of a shaded outdoor sidewalk café.
Clearing the doorway and stepping into a foyer the size of two rooms, Gabrielle was in awe. The home had twenty-six rooms, according to their tour guide. Putting it all into perspective, she considered that the average house has six to eight rooms. Ten to twelve were pure luxury. Her parents were affluent, and they had a five-bedroom/eleven-room house.
An elaborate stairwell climbed the left side of the lobby and began winding its way up as it crossed the upper floor. The guide continued her spiel, “One writer reported this mansion has more than fifteen-thousand-four hundred square feet. We haven’t taken the time to measure it.”
The woman chuckled to herself and then snapped back into her professional mode when no one else laughed. “It’s now listed on the national historic registry. The Jemison-Van de Graaff Mansion is often rented out for functions like fashion shows, bridal parties, weddings …”
Weddings. The interior design was stunning. Gabrielle could easily imagine it as an excellent backdrop for memorable romantic photographs. She would love to get married in a nostalgic place such as this. Sadly, she would probably never see inside this mansion again if Cameron Jamieson wasn’t going to be her groom. Her heart was breaking over the uncertainty of whether his pride would let him surrender completely to Jesus.
Unfortunately, he hid behind one Scripture that says if a person believes on the Lord Jesus Christ, he shall be saved. Yet he ignored the ones that teach about righteous living, presenting his body as a living sacrifice holy to God, and God resisting the prideful.
“Hey, are you okay?” Talise asked, as she scooted next to her.
Gabrielle nodded. If she spoke, she might bawl. Evidently, Talise wasn’t convinced as she wrapped her arm around Gabrielle’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what happened between you and Cameron, but something did. One minute I glanced at you two lovebirds whispering sweet nothings to each other. The next moment, you left Cameron standing alone. Since I love both of you, it’s hard to take sides, but I have no problem jumping allegiance as I see fit.”
Gabrielle chuckled. “You married a Jamieson and you’ve become a traitor.”
“Nah. You know we’ll always be close. You were there for me and your loyalty forged our friendship forever.”
“I don’t want to burden you.” She sniffed.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Talise gave her a dumbfounded expression.
“I broke Cameron’s heart, and then mine crumbled. Although I can’t choose who I love, I will give him up for Christ. I know He can recycle a person’s way of thinking and give him back to me in mint condition.”
Looping their arms together, the two fell in step as they trailed along with the group. Their guide was explaining the Italian influence on the architecture.
“It took three years to finish this masterpiece, which began in 1859. This mansion was considered the most elaborate great house in the state of Alabama before the Civil War. It was almost destroyed before it ended. Rumor has it, Senator Robert Jemison fled to a swamp near his plantation and hid from the Yankees,” their guide stated. “But back to the house. He spared no expense, incorporating the latest technology like flushing toilets, copper bathtubs—”
“What about the African-Americans he enslaved?” an unidentified Jamieson asked, interrupting her.
“Senator Jemison owned eight to ten slaves who managed this house. He also owned at least seven other plantations with more than four hundred slaves,” she said. “Here’s another piece of gossip. A tale is still believed today that an underground tunnel exists where slaves escaped. It was actually a deep well used for cooling purposes to preserve food before modern refrigeration was even heard of.”
“You know,” Talise whispered, distracting Gabrielle, “I’ve grown since God saved me last year. You would be proud. I believe the Lord is telling me to tell you to be still. He knows His plans to prosper you, to give you hope and a future.” She paused and then smiled. “You know where that came from in the Bible, don’t you?”
Gabrielle nodded and wasn’t going to say, but Talise continued to press her. “Jeremiah 29:11.”
Pumping her fist as a form of victory celebration, Talise was about to steer Gabrielle in another direction when they bumped into someone. Turning around, a handsome guy, wearing a family reunion T-shirt, gave them a cocky grin.
“Please tell me you two aren’t related to me,” he flirted.
“Sorry. You missed your chance.” Talise stated. “I’m a Jamieson, my baby’s a Jamieson, and so is my husband.” She stuck out her hand and nearly blinded him with her rock.
He looked to Gabrielle for her to show or tell. Shrugging, she began to explain that she was a guest. “I’m not a Jamieson—”
At that instant, muscular arms snaked around her waist. Cameron answered for her. “She’s definitely taken, trust me.” He dismissed the man and turned to Talise. “Your husband is coming right behind me to claim his package.” Then he ushered Gabrielle away from the crowd.
Rubbing his jaw, Gabrielle stared into his eyes. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“I can bounce back, baby. I’d rather take the blow than you, because I’ll seriously hurt somebody if they mess over you. I’m not losing you by any means necessary.”
Yeah, Cameron had rebounde
d all right. That was after the shock wore off. When his brothers approached him and advised they were taking their brood to the children’s museum later, they must have sensed something wasn’t right. He lied that he was fine.
Cameron never had a reason to fib to his brothers, except now. He had to save face after losing his heart. They had trapped him into a yes-or-no answer until he told them what happened, just to get rid of them.
Hours later, back in his hotel room, he was exhausted after a day at the mansion. Cameron stared at the Gideon Bible on the nightstand. The voice in his head wasn’t Gabrielle’s, but something Parke had said a while back.
“You think you have everything and are in need of nothing. In actuality, you are poor, naked, and disgusting,” his brother had said. Then Parke told him to check the book of Revelation for himself.
Cameron had read chapter three and verse seventeen, but the passage didn’t seem to apply to him. In theory, he knew the Bible basics. If he wanted to discuss specific principles, there was always Gabrielle’s brother Philip. The evangelist had been engaging, but Cameron could hold his own. He just wasn’t convinced there was more to salvation.
Closing his eyes, he prayed. “Lord, I’m clueless to what Gabrielle wants from me. Help me to convince her that You sent her the best man …”
The weekend ended on a jovial note among the Jamiesons, except for Cameron. If any other woman was putting him through this nonsense, he would have walked. God help him because Gabrielle was forever testing him.
Cameron gave her his word that he would make attending church with her a priority. That was easier said than done. On the second Sunday in a row, he struggled to get into the message. By the third Sunday, his relationship with Gabrielle was strained.
One night, he was unable to shake his bad mood until finally he placed another call to Philip. Disappointed, but not surprised, that he had to leave a message, he did and waited.
