Deidra escorted the woman to the door. Lawrence listened for a second to see if something said might give him a clue as to who the woman was and from where he might know her. At least he could breathe a sigh of relief; it wasn’t anyone he’d slept with.
“Thanks a lot, Gigi,” Deidra said. “You’ve been more than helpful.”
“Should you need me again, you know how to get in touch with me.”
“Prayerfully, I won’t need you again.”
Deidra came into the den, where Lawrence sat holding the remote control as though he was just about to turn on the television. “Who was that?” Lawrence asked.
“Nobody important,” Deidra said.
“She just looked familiar to me. I was trying to place where I may have met her.”
“Oh, you know you, Lawrence. Out there on the campaign stump, you run into and see all kinds of folks. You surely can’t remember everyone who crosses your path, now can you?”
“So what did she want?” Lawrence set the remote control on the sofa.
Deidra walked and stood over him. “Lawrence, I want you to quit the race.”
He chuckled. “You want what?”
“I want you to get out of the race.”
“Okay, you’ve officially lost your mind. In case you haven’t heard, I’m up for reelection. If I quit the race, I absolutely lose.”
“You’ve already lost,” Deidra said.
“Sit down and tell me what’s going on.” He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her down beside him. She held her ground and refused to budge. Lawrence frowned. “Dee, what’s your problem?”
“I want you to quit the race. Today. So call up whomever you need to call and tell them you’re shutting things down. Now . . . today.”
Lawrence stood up and looked into her eyes. “That’s not going to happen.”
She put her hand on her hip. “Yes . . . it is.”
Lawrence twisted his mouth. “And what reason am I to cite for this change of heart?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. One excuse is as good as another. Tell them it’s family business that you need to deal with.”
He grabbed her up lovingly by her shoulders. “Are you sick? Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m not sick. At least not in the way one might classify one as being sick.” She pulled away from him and took a step back from him. “But I am sick of your lies. I’m sick of you doing things and thinking you’re getting away with them. Do you really think I don’t know about all of the women you’ve been with? Huh?”
“I’m not with any woman now . . . other than you, my lovely wife,” Lawrence said. “So we can squash this talk about me getting out of the race. If I don’t do this, then what am I supposed to do for a living to support us?”
She walked over and stood by the oak built-in bookcase. “Find a job like everyone else.”
“I’m good at what I do now. And I’m paid well to do it.”
“Go and call William, and tell him you’re shutting things down. Then I want you to decide what you’re going to do about your daughter.”
Lawrence nodded. “It’s Paris again, isn’t it? She’s still upset about how things are going in her life, and she won’t stop until she’s ruined ours. Paris will be all right. Andrew is going to come around. I know they’ve been having problems. But it’s no reason for our lives to be torn up because of what’s going on with them. Besides, I’ve taken care of her; I let her go from her job working on my campaign so she can spend time at home with her own husband.”
“I’m not talking about Paris,” Deidra said in a quiet tone.
Lawrence frowned from concern. “Imani? Is something wrong with Imani? What’s going on with her? Tell me.”
“I’m not talking about Imani, either.”
“All right,” Lawrence said. “Then you’ve lost me, because we only have two daughters. And you’d better not be about to tell me that Malachi is going through some kind of an identity crisis or something. I’m not in the mood. Not today.”
Deidra nodded. “Yes, we only have two daughters. But you, you, my dear husband, have another daughter.”
Lawrence rushed over to her. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I told you the last time this came up, whoever is saying something like this is just lying.”
“Lawrence, cut it, okay. I’m not playing games anymore. I’m too old to be playing games with you. What I don’t understand is how you could do something like that and continue to live with yourself.”
“I’m telling you, Dee—”
“That little girl is your daughter, Lawrence. And you knew it the whole time you were manipulating us and making a fool out of me. She was sick. She could have died. And you were playing games, worrying about some stupid representative seat.”
He grabbed her up by her shoulders. “I was worried about you. You have to believe me. I didn’t want to lose you, Dee. You mean everything to me.”
Deidra snatched herself out of his grip. “Poppycock! You were doing it to protect yourself and what meant the most to you. What if she had died, Lawrence? What if Imani hadn’t pushed us to let her step up? Your daughter could have died! That eight-year-old little girl could have died last year!”
“But she didn’t. And things worked out. I wanted to tell you.” He grabbed Deidra up by her shoulders once more. “You have to believe me. I wanted so badly to tell you. You know you mean the world to me. You are my world, Deidra Jean Simmons. Don’t you get that?”
Deidra nodded. “You slept with an eighteen-year-old girl, the exact same age your own daughter was at the time. And it didn’t even bother you.” She hunched her shoulders. “Didn’t faze you one little bit. And to have a child out there for all of these years that you never acknowledged. You’re a despicable man. And I never thought I’d be saying that about you.” She shook her head as she primped her mouth.
“In the first place, I didn’t know about her until close to the end of last year. I didn’t even know I had another daughter out there. You have to believe that,” Lawrence said, tears pooling up in his eyes.
“And why is that, Lawrence? Why didn’t you know you had a daughter out there in the world somewhere? You knew she’d been given up for adoption, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know that,” Lawrence said.
“Why wouldn’t you know that? Are you telling me that Gabrielle Booker never told you she was pregnant with your child? And don’t lie to me, Lawrence. I’m telling you: Don’t you dare lie to me!”
Tears began rolling down his face. He wiped them away and took in a deep breath. “I didn’t know because she was supposed to have gotten rid of it. I thought she’d had an abortion. But she double-crossed me.”
Deidra backed away from him. “Double-crossed you? You told her to get an abortion and she decided not to, and you think that’s double-crossing you?” She backed away some more with her hands up. “You’re more out of touch than I even suspected. Do you know how hard it is for a woman to terminate a pregnancy? Do you? Do you even know what goes through her mind when she has to think about doing something like that? Do you know that not everybody can live with doing something like that? And you think her decision—an eighteen-year-old girl who had no place to live, no real family to help her out—to go through nine months of pregnancy, pretty much alone, knowing in the end that she couldn’t tell anyone, that she did it purely to double-cross you?” Deidra laughed . . . pain resonating all throughout it. She shook her head. “You are a real piece of work. My Lord, help me.”
Lawrence hurried to her and gently pressed her face between his two hands to make her look at him as he spoke. “I was young and foolish. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m not that man anymore. I’m not.”
She pulled her face from his grasp. “You were over forty. You were thinking straight enough to cover it up and keep it a secret. As for you not being that man anymore, you need to start being a real man.” He grabbed her by the wrist; she jerked away. “Now call and let whoever needs to k
now that the campaign is officially over. You will not be seeking reelection. And you can tell them it’s due to family matters that require your attention, if that helps you save face. But this is not up for discussion. The information about Jasmine being your daughter will be coming out. That’s a given.”
“But I’ve taken care of that. Gabrielle and I talked about it. She’s not going to do anything, especially since I got Paris to back off from trying to take that child from her.”
“You mean you got Paris to back off from taking your daughter. . . her half sister, from a person she felt had no right to her. Let’s call it what it is, Lawrence.”
“Does Paris know the whole truth now?” Lawrence asked.
“I called her to come over. She’ll be here any minute now, and you’re going to tell her the whole truth. Apparently, she knew something; she was the only one fighting for your daughter.” Deidra shook her head. “Your daughter.”
Lawrence turned and rubbed his forehead. He then ran his hand over his head. “I don’t know why we can’t do this another way. We can weather this storm together, Dee. I know we can. I don’t need to quit the race. This is manageable. It is.”
“I’m not going through this publicly.” Deidra shook her head. “I’m not going to have our dirty laundry aired in the public eye or, I should say, your dirty laundry. This is going to come out. And you’re going to lose the reelection for sure when it does. Have some self-respect and decency, if not for you, then for your family.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m making you have to go through this. Just please don’t leave me. Please. I can’t lose everything. Not now.”
The doorbell rang. “That’s Paris,” Deidra said as she went to answer the door.
Chapter 47
The gates of the rivers shall be opened, and the palace shall be dissolved.
—Nahum 2:6
Paris stepped in the house. She could tell immediately that something wasn’t right. Her father was standing in the den as though he was waiting on her. She wondered what she’d done now to cause her mother to call and ask her over like this. Maybe word had reached her mother about how she’d almost destroyed Gabrielle and her child. Andrew, most likely had told her, especially if she’d asked what was going on.
“Daddy,” she said acknowledging him with a quick nod.
He didn’t say anything back. Everybody seemed to have an attitude lately. It had been over three weeks, and Andrew still wasn’t saying much to her. He hadn’t quite forgiven her for what she’d done to Gabrielle and Jasmine. If only she could go back and do everything all over again, she definitely wouldn’t have done what she had.
“Sit down,” Deidra said. “Your father has something he needs to tell you.”
Paris sat down slowly and angled her body to face her father, who continued to stand. Her mother sat down next to her and took her by the hand. She knew whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good.
Lawrence folded his hands into each other. “You know we love you, don’t you?”
She looked to her mother first, then back to her father. “Of course.”
Lawrence let his hands drop to his side. “Well, something has happened. Something we as a family need to deal with.”
“You sound so serious; you’re starting to scare me. Is everybody all right? Has somebody died?” Paris turned to her mother, squeezing her hand. “You don’t have cancer do you? Please tell me you don’t have—”
Deidra shook her head. “I don’t have cancer.”
Paris let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it. Just say it. I hate when you string things out like this.” Paris’s thoughts immediately raced to a month ago when she’d slept with Darius. Had they somehow found out about that? Is that why they had called her here? To give her a good tongue lashing? Did Andrew know and this was his way of breaking it to her that they were over and this was why? “Daddy, please, I can’t take this. If you have something to say, just spit it out.”
“You remember last year when Imani became the bone marrow donor for that little girl?” Lawrence said.
“You’re talking about Jasmine Noble?” Paris frowned. Why was he bringing this up and in front of her mother, at that? He knew she had accused him of fathering Jasmine. He had denied it. And up until Paris had learned that Jessica wasn’t Jasmine’s birth mother, she was convinced Jasmine was her father’s child. But she now knew that Gabrielle was Jasmine’s birth mother, a child she’d given up for adoption.
“Paris . . . baby, I want to ask you to forgive me.” Lawrence was saying that just at the time she knew what was coming next. “Jasmine Noble . . . that little girl is my daughter. That means she’s your—”
“Oh, God,” Paris said as she stood up and pressed her hands into her stomach. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick!” She ran out of the den to the bathroom and threw up.
Her father had slept with Gabrielle. Her father and Gabrielle had actually slept together. She threw up again.
Chapter 48
Behold, ye trust in lying words, that cannot profit.
—Jeremiah 7:8
Paris went home. She didn’t want to hear any more. Her mother tried to make her stay until she felt better, but she had to get out of there. The walls were closing in on her. She wanted to yell at her father. How could he do that? How could he sleep with a girl the same age as his own daughter? How could he betray her and her mother in that way?
She always knew in her heart that Jasmine was her father’s. She just never put it together like this. Not even after learning that Gabrielle was Jasmine’s birth mother did she come to the right conclusion. She thought it could have been Cedric’s child. Maybe, though unlikely, even could have been Andrew’s. But never . . . never in a million years did she ever consider her father and Gabrielle having been together.
She race to the bathroom again and threw up some more. She sat on the bathroom floor as she cried. How could her father be married to her beautiful mother and have so easily slept with someone else? It didn’t make sense. Her father loved her mother; she knew that he did. She thought back to when Gabrielle was staying with her. Her parents weren’t having marital problems, not that she knew of. Nothing more than what normal married couples dealt with. And if she was honest, most of their arguments tended to stem from things surrounding her.
When she was living in that apartment, her father wanted Gabrielle out of there. It was her mother who had argued that it was wrong for them to just throw Gabrielle out on the streets with nowhere else to go. Her mother had told her to give her time to get things together.
Paris held her head over the toilet and threw up again. She wiped her mouth with the wet face towel she now had with her. Her mother had advocated doing right by Gabrielle, and how had Gabrielle repaid her? By sleeping with her husband.
Paris looked up at the ceiling light in the bathroom. “Daddy, how could you do that? How could you just sleep with someone like her without any regard to us?”
She threw up one more time, wiped her face, and got up off the floor. She dragged herself to her bedroom and laid across the bed. Thinking about her father and how he could so carelessly cheat on her mother—producing an illegitimate child, no less—it suddenly occurred to her that she was late having a cycle.
She got up and pulled out the calendar she kept with her circled days. She hadn’t even thought about it before now. Counting back to the last time she’d circled days, she noted that she was two weeks late. But so much had been going on. Could she really possibly be pregnant?
The thought of it made her burst into a smile. She and Andrew had been trying for years now. Had she finally conceived after all her time of trying? She jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, happy that she’d bought an early pregnancy test kit in anticipation of this fateful day. She scanned the instructions, which were simple enough.
Five minutes later, she had her answer. She was pregnant! She was so excited; she couldn’t wait for Andrew to get home so she could tel
l him the grand news. Just to be certain the results weren’t a false positive, she used the second kit included in the box and took the test again. The second test confirmed what the first one had declared. She was definitely pregnant!
She did a happy dance, then picked up the phone to call her mother. With all of the bad news happening, it would be great to share something good at this juncture. She and Andrew were finally going to have a baby! Andrew was going to be the father he’d always dreamed of being. She began pressing the numbers to her mother’s, when it hit her like a ton of bricks. She put the phone back in the holder.
What if this isn’t Andrew’s baby? She had, in fact, slept with Darius. She sat down on the bed and tried to think. How long ago and had she even slept with her husband during this time?
She and Andrew had been on the outs. Did the two of them even have sex during the time she would have conceived? Of course, they had. They had to have. Didn’t they? How else could she be pregnant? And as for Darius, she was only with him that one time. Once, that’s it. Surely she couldn’t have gotten pregnant after only one time with him. Even God wouldn’t be that cruel to her.
But she and Andrew had been trying for years now. And they hadn’t produced a baby yet. Not until now. Surely, this baby had to be Andrew’s. It had to be! It was, as far as she was concerned. This baby was hers and her husband’s—the two of them.
Andrew cleared his throat. “I said hello.”
Paris jumped, then looked up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” Paris wiped her face with her hand to be sure she looked okay.
“Yeah. I could see you were in deep thought there.” He walked to the bathroom, only to come back less than a minute later holding up a white plastic stick. “Honey, what’s this?” He was grinning slightly.
Paris’s eyes grew bigger. In her rush to call her mother, she’d left the pregnancy test sticks on the counter in the bathroom. Andrew held one of them now in his hand.
Andrew began to grin even bigger. “Is this saying what I think it’s saying?”
The Other Side of Dare Page 26
