The Other Side of Dare

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

“The baby you were pregnant with . . . the one you gave up for adoption . . . the baby that would be named Jasmine Noble, whose baby was it? Who is her father?”

  Gabrielle’s legs became wobbly, and she quickly sat down on the sofa to keep from falling to the floor. “Who told you that?”

  “Do you dare deny it’s the truth?”

  Gabrielle shook her head in sheer disbelief. “How did you find that out?”

  “Let’s just say maybe you’re a little too trusting of the people you share your secret information with. And not that you’ll heed my advice: But if I were you, I’d watch those I allow access into my inner circle. Again, take it however you like.”

  “Was it Andrew? Is he the one who told you?” Gabrielle asked. “He said I should tell you. He thought it would make you back away from this nonsense of you trying to take Jasmine from me when her mother clearly wanted her with me.”

  “You mean Jasmine’s adoptive mother. Well, Gabrielle, maybe you should have taken the advice of your paid counsel. At least I hope you’re paying him. We can always use more money. I have a penchant for expensive shoes.” Paris looked down at Gabrielle’s brown sandals. “Obviously you and I don’t share that same penchant.”

  “Was it Andrew who told you?” Gabrielle asked again.

  “I’ll make a deal with you. Tell me the father’s name, and I’ll tell you who you need to be careful of with your little secrets.” Paris stared hard at Gabrielle.

  “I can’t. Please, Paris. I don’t want Jasmine to end up getting hurt in all of this. She’s a child, an innocent little girl.”

  “I suppose it would hurt her to learn that the woman who gave birth to her . . . the woman who didn’t want her and simply gave her away, is the same woman trying to adopt her now, wouldn’t it? That the woman is you.”

  “What?” a tiny voice boomed forth from the opening of the room as Jasmine stepped inside. “What?”

  Gabrielle spun around. “Jasmine?”

  “What does she mean you’re my birth mother?” Jasmine stood at the entrance with a puzzled look. “It’s you? You gave me away? You didn’t want me?”

  Gabrielle rushed over to Jasmine and kneeled down. “Honey, what are you doing listening in like that? I’ve told you it’s impolite to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”

  “I heard her. She just said that you’re my mother.”

  “You must have misunderstood.” Gabrielle looked to Paris for help. Paris held her nose even higher in the air, refusing to look back at Gabrielle.

  “You didn’t want me, so you gave me away?” Jasmine was crying now.

  Gabrielle grabbed her and hugged her as tight as she would allow her.

  Paris strolled past the two of them. “You don’t have to bother seeing me to the door, Gabrielle. I’ll let myself out.” She gave Gabrielle a smug look, then left.

  Chapter 36

  For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

  —Ephesians 3:14

  Everything was in turmoil. Paris had come to Gabrielle’s house and, with merely a few spoken words, turned her and Jasmine’s world completely upside down. Not at all in the way that Gabrielle had planned it, Jasmine had just learned that Gabrielle was her birth mother. A mother she now believed never wanted her.

  Tiffany had been the one who had called when the phone rang. Seeing the number on the caller ID, Jasmine had answered it when Gabrielle didn’t. Tiffany had been worried that something may have happened to them. Jasmine told her that Gabrielle had company. She’d gone downstairs to tell Gabrielle about the call. She was also eager to go to Jade’s house, having put on her new shorts outfit and the sandals Zachary had bought her.

  That’s when she heard the two women in the den talking. One of them, the one she later saw was Paris, said the words, “I suppose it would hurt her to learn that the woman who gave birth to her . . . the woman who didn’t want her and gave her away, is the same woman trying to adopt her now.”

  Jasmine knew she’d been adopted. Gabrielle had told her that. She’d wondered about her real mother. She’d even talked about it with her friend Jade. But she had no idea that the woman she planned to look for and one day find would turn out to be Gabrielle, the same woman trying to adopt her now.

  It was confusing and disorienting for an adult, let alone a nine-year-old child.

  “If you didn’t want me then, what makes you want me now?” Jasmine had asked.

  Gabrielle tried to explain how much she did indeed want her. She told her it had been complicated. No matter what Gabrielle said, she couldn’t seem to find the precise words to make things right again.

  It was well after six o’clock when Andrew called. In all of the confusion and mayhem, she hadn’t made it to his office and hadn’t even thought to call him and advise him of what was going on at this point. There were so many emotions running through her. She could only imagine what little Jasmine was going through.

  Crying, Gabrielle didn’t feel like being cordial or polite. “Did you tell her?”

  “Tell who what?” Andrew said.

  “Paris. Did you tell her what we talked about? Did you tell her you were my lawyer? Did you tell her Jasmine was adopted? And did you tell her that I was Jasmine’s birth mother? Did you, Andrew? Did you?”

  “No. I mean yes. I mean—”

  “Which is it, Andrew? Did you tell her or not? It’s a straightforward question with a straightforward answer. Is that why you wanted to represent me? So you could find out something and feed it to your wife. Did you give her my address so she could show up and shatter everything I’ve worked so hard to protect?”

  “Okay, Gabrielle. I need you to take a breath here.”

  “Why? So you can get something else out of me and further destroy my life?” Gabrielle was working hard to control her sobs. “I trusted you, Andrew. I thought you were different from other people. But I suppose you proved me wrong.”

  “Gabrielle, let me come over there. I need to explain—”

  “What’s to explain? What did you want me to come to your office for?”

  “To give you a heads-up,” Andrew said.

  “Well, thanks. Although, I would have preferred the heads-up before having my head handed to me on a silver platter. I trusted you. I . . . trusted . . . you! I even prayed about this. I guess I got it wrong, huh? Because I sure thought God was saying it was okay to work with you.”

  “It was okay. I am okay,” Andrew said. “I was calling to tell you that I told Paris I was representing you because it felt like somehow she already knew. But that’s all I told her. You have to believe me. All the other stuff, your address, that you were Jasmine’s birth mother, that wasn’t any of my doing. I swear to you, Gabrielle, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then who was it?”

  “I don’t know. But I can’t believe Paris came over there. Goodness!”

  “Well, believe it.” Gabrielle wiped her nose with a tissue. “She was here in living color. And I have a little girl upstairs who has cried her heart out. She cried so hard she ended up crying herself to sleep. And for what? Because Paris had to come here and express herself? She’s asking me for the name of Jasmine’s father, like that’s any of her business or concern.”

  “Would you like me to come over?”

  “No. There’s nothing you can do now. The damage has already been done. Andrew, I need to know the truth. Are you sure you didn’t tell her? Not even by accident. Or maybe you had some of my records at your house and she went through them.”

  “No. None of that. I went home during lunchtime today. I decided you were right about me telling Paris that you were my client. She’s been acting weird since yesterday. Last night, she called me from some function she was attending, drunk as a skunk and talking all crazy. So when I saw her today, I told her. Naturally, she was upset. But there was nothing to indicate she’d act the way you’ve just described. Somebody else must have told her about the adoption and everything else between th
e time I left her and when she showed up at your doorstep. I’m definitely speaking to her about this though. Maybe her working like she’s been doing is too much for her to handle. She sounds like someone who has fallen off the edge.”

  Gabrielle’s doorbell rang. “Listen, someone’s at my door. I have to go. Hopefully, it’s not your wife back for round two. I tell you: She’s really testing my relationship with the Lord today.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. If you need me, you have my cell number. Call me.”

  Gabrielle hung up and answered the door.

  It was Johnnie Mae Landris. “I got your message and came over as soon as I could get here.”

  Gabrielle fell into her arms. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  Johnnie Mae hugged her. They went to the den and sat on the sofa together.

  “Okay, so tell me what’s going on.”

  Gabrielle filled Johnnie Mae in on everything that had happened, including her conversation with Andrew.

  “So if he didn’t tell her that you’re Jasmine’s birth mother, then who do you think did?” Johnnie Mae asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been racking my brain, going over in my mind all of the people who know about it. I’ve told you and Pastor Landris.”

  “Well, I can assure you that we didn’t say anything. I feel confident that I can speak for Pastor Landris.”

  “Oh, I know that. I never even considered it was either of you. Then there’s Zachary.” Gabrielle was ticking off the names, using her fingers to keep count as she looked up at the ceiling on occasion.

  Johnnie Mae laughed. “For certain Zachary didn’t do it. That man loves him some you.”

  Gabrielle primped her mouth as she nodded. “I told my lawyer, Andrew Holyfield. Honest . . . he’s tops on my suspect list. Andrew just happens to be married to the woman who’s causing all of the trouble.”

  “Gabrielle, I don’t want to seem harsh, but why would you hire someone as your lawyer that you knew might have an ulterior motive and possibly sabotage you?”

  Gabrielle turned to Johnnie Mae. “I knew Andrew from a different time in my life. He was a good friend back then, a really good friend. And I trusted him now. I even prayed about it. I guess I was wrong on all accounts.”

  “Maybe not,” Johnnie Mae said. “Anyone else on your list.”

  “Fatima and Tiffany from church. And other than her birth father and anyone he may have told, that’s it. And I’m positive that he didn’t do it.”

  Johnnie Mae twisted her mouth. “Fatima Adams Howard and Tiffany Connors from church and the dance ministry, huh?”

  “Yes. But I only told them recently. It was the night of the slumber party I had here for Jasmine.”

  Johnnie Mae placed a hand over her mouth as though she was in deep thought.

  “What?” Gabrielle said. “Do you know something? If you do, please tell me.”

  Johnnie Mae took her hand down and shook her head. “No. But I think you should talk to both of them and see if maybe somehow, not on purpose or maliciously, if one of them said something to someone else.”

  “But I asked them not to say anything to anyone about it. They promised.”

  Johnnie Mae smiled. “And they’re both married. Sometimes married folks may discuss things with each other without even thinking that they’re disclosing anything or betraying a confidence.”

  Gabrielle gave a quick nod. “You’re right. I don’t believe it was either of them, but I’ll certainly ask them.”

  “Just be careful when you do it. You don’t want anyone to become offended. People get defensive when they feel they’re under attack—perceived or otherwise.”

  Gabrielle lowered her head, then raised it back. “Thank you. You’re always so wonderful. You’re just like a mother to me. I appreciate you so much.”

  Johnnie Mae patted her hand a few times. “You were upset when you called. I had to come by and check on you. So where is Jasmine right now?”

  “Upstairs . . . asleep. She didn’t take hearing this in this way too well. She’s literally heartbroken. I’m sure she’s confused. I just hope this doesn’t cause her to have a setback and get sick. Her immune system is still on the mends. Something like this could hurt her in more ways than one.” Gabrielle began to cry again. “She wants to know why I didn’t want her. She wants to know how I could just give her away without ever looking back. I tried explaining things. I tried to tell her that if there was any way I could have taken care of her myself, I would never, not in a million years, have given her up. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully make her understand.”

  Johnnie Mae patted Gabrielle’s hand again. “She will. Just keep at it. Show her all the love you have for her. You’ll make her see. It’s obvious you love her very much. Love has a way of breaking down walls. Love has its own way of speaking to the heart from the heart—heart to heart. You’ll figure out a way to reach her.”

  “I’m sorry to have dragged you away from your family. Looks like whenever I have a crisis, I run to you.”

  Johnnie Mae smiled. “When I told Pastor Landris that I needed to come see about you, he literally shoved me out of the door. We care about you and what you’re going through. And just between me and you: I think he and the children wanted me gone just so they could take the ground beef I was planning to make meatloaf out of and make hamburgers instead.”

  Gabrielle let out a short chuckle. “Please thank Pastor Landris for me. The two of you . . .” Gabrielle started crying again and covered her face with her hands.

  Johnnie Mae pulled her into her arms and rocked her as she hugged her. Johnnie Mae began to pray. Gabrielle slid down on her knees as Johnnie Mae prayed, Johnnie Mae’s hand then resting on Gabrielle’s head.

  Johnnie Mae prayed for guidance, wisdom, comfort, and healing. “Lord, I thank You for hearing me always,” she said as she came to a close of her prayer. “And as always, we’ll give You all the praises and all the glory, in Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  Chapter 37

  Whom I have sent unto you for the same purpose, that ye might know our affairs, and that he might comfort your hearts.

  —Ephesians 6:22

  The doorbell rang.

  “It appears you have some more company,” Johnnie Mae said. She stood to her feet and headed toward the front door. “You’re going to be all right. You and I just went to the throne of God and kneeled at His feet. It’s going to be all right. You just hold on.” Johnnie Mae hugged her again. “I’ll be in touch, okay? Now, if you need me, you know to just call me.”

  Gabrielle nodded, then hugged Johnnie Mae. She opened the door. Zachary was standing there.

  “Hello, Zachary,” Johnnie Mae said. She hugged Gabrielle once more and kissed her forehead. She then hugged Zachary and patted him on his hand.

  Johnnie Mae stepped out the door, Zachary fully inside now. Gabrielle closed the door.

  “You called the pastor’s wife?” Zachary asked.

  “She’s more than the pastor’s wife to me. She’s like a mother.”

  Zachary nodded. “She’s a good woman. She really is.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “So where’s Jasmine?”

  “Upstairs. She’s asleep.” Gabrielle started to cry once more. “I’m sorry. I seem to be a regular water fountain today. She’s hurt, Zachary. Jasmine is so hurt. You should have seen the look on her face when she was questioning me as the mother who didn’t want her. It was awful.”

  “I’m going upstairs to check on her.”

  Gabrielle nodded as she wiped her eyes with her hands. Zachary hurried up the stairs. Gabrielle went to the den and balled up into a fetal position on the couch. Zachary came in the den ten minutes later and gathered her up in his arms.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said.

  “I don’t know. Somebody told Paris that Jasmine was adopted and that I was her birth mother. She came over here, throwing up everything she knew in my face. Jasmine heard her say that I was h
er mother who didn’t want her in the beginning, and”—Gabrielle began to cry louder—“that . . . I . . . gave . . . her . . . away!”

  Zachary rocked her in his arms. “I wish I’d been here. I’m so sorry you and Jasmine had to go through that alone.”

  “It’s not your fault. You didn’t tell anyone about me being her birth mother, did you?”

  “Of course not. I just wish I’d been here so I could have thrown that woman out on her righteous—”

  “Don’t,” Gabrielle said, holding her head up and looking into his eyes. “I know it’s hard, but don’t you dare let her take you there.”

  He guffawed. “I’m just so mad right now. You shouldn’t have let her in the house. You should have thrown her out when she first started sounding like she was going to be trouble.”

  “She was accusing me of so much. How was I to know she knew all about me having given birth to Jasmine? I’d told Jasmine she was adopted, so that was no longer a secret. But only a handful of folks knew about me being her birth mother.”

  “So how do you think Paris found out?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of whom and how.”

  “Knowing Paris, she likely hired a private investigator. I wonder if she knows who the birth father is as well.”

  Gabrielle sat up completely and shook her head. “I don’t think that she does. She kept asking . . . wanting to know Jasmine’s birth father’s name.”

  His voice escalated. “What business is that of hers?”

  “That’s what I said. She claims that someone I told is how she learned about me being Jasmine’s birth mother. She was implying someone I trusted wasn’t worth trusting.”

  “If that’s true, then it likely wasn’t a private investigator who told her,” Zachary said.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. She said she would trade the name of the person I needed to watch in my circle for the name of the man who fathered my baby.”

  “Who do you think may have done it?”

  “I have a short list of those who knew. You, of course—”