Read Lady Jasmine Online

Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Christian, #Romance

Lady Jasmine (5 page)

It took a moment for Hosea to say, “I don’t know.” He looked around the table. “But let me tell you what I do know. I know that I love the Lord and that, whatever I need, He will give to me—including time and wisdom. I know that I love my father. This is not my wish, but his. And as the founder of this church, he’s always done what’s best for his congregation.

“I know that I love my wife. We may not be perfect, but that’s why I’m so glad to have each of you in our lives.” He let his eyes move among the members of the board. “Because by the examples of the wonderful marriages and homes that you have, Jasmine and I have something to strive toward; one day, we may get this as right as you.”

Brother Stevens’s cough slashed through the quiet. Sister Clinton twisted in her seat. Even Brother Hill, Mrs. Whittingham, and Sister Pearline looked away.

Only Pastor Wyatt, his wife, Jerome Viceroy, and Malik looked Hosea dead in his eyes.

Dang!
Jasmine thought, already pushing down the quick memory of her past. She wondered about the stories behind Hosea’s words; the way half the room had shifted, there had to be some mess. These saints acted more like sinners who’d been caught.

Pastor Wyatt said, “I still think we should vote.”

Hosea shrugged. “We can vote if you want, but I already know the outcome because no one on this board is divisive. No one wants to see this board or this church and its members split.”

Pastor Wyatt’s eyes darted from one to another, in search of an ally. But no one stood up for him.

“Then I guess you all agree,” Hosea said.

Brother Hill asked, “Does anyone here think we need to take a vote now?” His glance wandered from person to person.

They shook their heads—all except Pastor Wyatt. And behind him, his wife sat still as stone.

Brother Hill said, “Then Hosea Samuel Bush is the senior pastor of City of Lights at Riverside Church until further notice.”

Again, Enid bent forward and whispered to her husband.

Jasmine frowned again. Could it have been any clearer who was running this show?

When his wife returned to her seat, Pastor Wyatt jumped up. “I’d like to revisit this at the next board meeting.” He held up his hands when he looked at Hosea. “I’m not challenging you; we need to make sure things are running smoothly and—”

“That’s fair,” Hosea said, a truce in his tone. He shook Pastor Wyatt’s hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“We’re a team,” Pastor Wyatt said. “I’ve got your back.”

Jasmine smirked. She didn’t want that man—or his wife—anywhere near her husband’s back. Not unless the two were frisked first.

When they all stood, Jasmine wanted to stop them and ask about the money. She needed to know exactly what her husband would be earning so that she could do their new household budget. But with all the chatter, she decided to ask Hosea later.

Minutes passed as all the board members came over to offer
more condolences to Hosea.

No one said a word to her until Malik pulled her aside. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Some of the things they said”—he motioned with his head toward the group—“were out of line.”

She waved her hand like their words meant nothing. “That kind of stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“So you’re going to be able to handle this?”

“Hosea being the pastor? Definitely. I’m looking forward to it.”

He leaned back, as if that was not the answer he expected. “I thought since you and Hosea were all Hollywood now, you wouldn’t want anything to do with the church.” He nodded. “Good for you.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a stop to make, but I’ll come by the hospital a little later.” He hugged her before he bumped knuckles with Hosea.

“You ready?” Hosea asked her.

She nodded, and without saying a word to anyone else, she took Hosea’s hand. As they stepped out of the room, Jasmine heard the voices rise behind them.

And then, Mrs. Whittingham screeched, “Oh, Lawd, that woman is going to be our first lady!”

Jasmine glanced at Hosea, but his eyes were straight ahead, his thoughts already beyond the church and with his father.

On another day, Jasmine would have stomped back into the room and jumped in that woman’s face. But that wasn’t the appropriate behavior for a pastor’s wife. Anyway, Mrs. Whittingham had only spoken the truth—she was the first lady.

And every single one of those clowns in there were going to have to deal with that.

SEVEN

“P
OPS,
I
DID IT,”
H
OSEA
whispered, leaning over the side of the hospital bed. “I’m going to lead the church the way you wanted me to.”

Jasmine stood at her husband’s side as he uttered the same words that he’d said last night when they’d rushed to the hospital after the board meeting. And like last night, Reverend Bush was still as unmoving as a statue, still living only because of the constant beep…beep…beep—the only sign that he was alive.

“Pops,” Hosea called again, his lips touching his father’s ear. “Can you hear me?”

Whoosh!
was the only response—the air from the breathing tube that was performing that life function for him.

“Pops?”

Hosea’s voice cracked, and Jasmine’s heart did the same. She wanted to take her husband’s hand and yank him away from this den of death. It had been only three days, but this room smelled and sounded like the end. And Hosea was sleeping in the middle of this every night. No wonder he was beginning to break down.

“Hello.”

The voice startled them both as they turned.

Dr. Lewis said, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you.” She gave Reverend Bush a quick glance before she looked down at his chart, which hung on a chain at the lower part of the bed.

As the doctor read, Jasmine searched her face. But it was as
if the doctor wore a mask—there was no “good news” or “bad news” in her expression. The doctor scanned the notes as if she were reading a newspaper.

When she looked up at them, though, she was smiling. And that gave Jasmine hope.

Dr. Lewis said, “Can you join me outside?”

Hosea tucked the Bible he held under his father’s arm, then the two followed the doctor into the hallway. She led them to the side of the nurses’ station, but when she faced them, her smile was gone.

“As you can see,” the doctor began, “your father’s unresponsive…”

Tell us something we don’t know.

“But the good news is, he’s more stable than he’s been.”


Is
that good news?” Jasmine asked. “He’s stable, but he’s not moving. How long is he going to be this way?”

“We don’t know,” the doctor said, shaking her head. “And that’s one of the problems. We don’t know why he hasn’t awakened or why he isn’t breathing on his own. But…we did have some good signs today. The swelling in his brain has gone down considerably, which lessens the chance of brain damage.”

“Okay,” Hosea breathed. “That’s good.” He grabbed Jasmine’s hand as if he needed something to hold on to.

“And then,” the doctor continued, “the neurologist’s tests came back—your father does have brain activity.”

“What does that mean?” Jasmine asked.

Hosea answered before the doctor could, “You’re saying he’s not a vegetable.”

The doctor nodded. “Those aren’t the words I would use, but yes. His brain is active. That means we’re going to move forward, keep doing everything to keep your father alive.”

Jasmine wrapped her arms around Hosea’s neck. “You hear that, babe. He’s going to be fine!”

The doctor held up her hands. “Now, I do want to caution
you,” she spoke slowly, as if her next words were most important. “There are many questions we have about your father, and we won’t be able to assess much until he wakes up.” And then, as if she hadn’t taken away enough of their joy, she added,
“If
he wakes up. It’s too soon to know.”

“That’s okay, Doctor,” Hosea said, waving away her last words. “This is still good news for us. Thank you.”

The doctor stuffed her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “If you have any questions, I’ll be in my office. And you can always call me.”

They nodded their good-byes and waited until the doctor was steps away before they held each other again.

“He’s gonna make it, babe,” Jasmine whispered in his ear.

Hosea nodded. “Yeah, he is.” Leaning back, he said, “Okay, now let’s go do our part; let’s get in there and pray.”

EIGHT

J
ASMINE MASSAGED HER EYES, BUT
she couldn’t wipe the sleep away. She glanced at the clock; only five minutes had passed. At eight o’clock, it was far too early to be falling asleep.

“What’re you reading?”

Hosea’s voice made her smile. Jasmine pushed aside the book, the reason for her weariness. “Is Jacquie sleeping?”

Hosea nodded. “I stayed until she closed both eyes, but she was fighting it. She tried to sing her song at least one hundred times.”

“You know, your father”—and then her voice became softer—“taught her that song.” After a moment of quiet, Jasmine added, “She missed you a lot.”

He nodded. “I missed her, too. And I missed this.” He pointed to the bed.

“I’m so glad you came home tonight.”

“Well, Doctor Lewis kept insisting that I’d do Pops a lot more good if I got some rest, if I got back to some semblance of my life.”

“She’s right; your father wouldn’t want you sitting in the hospital day and night.”

Exhaustion was in his sigh. It had been a week since Rever
end Bush had been shot, and although she’d come home every day, Hosea left his father only long enough for a quick shower and change. He’d spent his days reading the Bible to him and his nights praying for him.

But tonight, after they’d shared a dinner she’d ordered from Sylvia’s, he’d stood when she’d kissed him good-bye.

“I’m going home with you,” was all he said before he moved to the side of his father’s bed. Holding her hand, suddenly, he’d knelt down and lowered his head. Not more than a nanosecond later, Jasmine did the same. She bowed her head and together, silently, on their knees, the two sent their requests to God.

Now, two hours later, here at home, Jasmine had never been so glad to have her family together.

“I called Pastor Wyatt.” Hosea walked over to where she sat. “I asked him to preach tomorrow.” He shook his head. “I’m not ready.”

Looking up, she lied straight to his face, “I’m glad you did that.” She hid the hope she’d had that tomorrow would be her debut, the first Sunday since Hosea was named pastor. She’d already purchased her outfit. “You’ll be ready next week.”

“Yeah,” he said flatly. He tilted his head to glance at the book she’d pushed aside. “What’re you reading?” Before she could respond, Hosea picked it up. “The Bible?” as if that was the last thing he’d expected.

“I’ve been trying to get some reading done.”

“Wow.”

“Well, you’ve been telling me that I needed to read the Word more.”

“Yeah, and how long have I been saying that? But you’ve always complained that there were too many begats this and begats that for you to handle.” He sat down on the bed.

“It’s a different game now.”

He frowned, unbuttoning his shirt. “Why?”

“Because you’re the senior pastor.” She pushed herself from
the chaise and walked over to the bed. Climbing behind him, she pressed the tips of her fingers against his shoulders and massaged. “And I’m the pastor’s wife. It’s important for me to be up on everything in the Bible.”

He chuckled, a little. It was the first time she’d heard any kind of joy from him in over a week, though it didn’t make her happy that he was laughing at her.

She slapped his back gently. “Don’t make fun. I
am
the first lady.”

“Only an interim one.”

“For as long as it lasts, I’m going to be a proper one.”

Pulling her into his arms, he said, “You don’t have to change a thing, Jasmine. I love you the way you are.”

“You might but the people at church don’t.”

“Who said that?”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you never noticed how they treat me. And the board meeting was ridiculous. Some of those things they said…so much for their being Christian.”

“Judge their words, not their hearts. They’re not perfect.”

“Seems that they’re not. You ruffled more than a few feathers when you said that we wanted to be like them. What’s the story behind that?” she asked, eager to know.

“No story.” Hosea shook his head. “I just needed to remind everyone that there was only one who walked this earth perfectly. And anyway, all those things they said, I think, were good. Everything that anyone had on us is on the table; there’s nothing left to throw in our faces.”

Jasmine took a second before she said, “Babe, I’ve been thinking…maybe I should take a leave of absence. Malik can handle things at Rio for a little while, and this way none of those—”

“Be careful!” he warned playfully.

“—Saints…on the board will be able to say anything about where I work.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to, but it takes away every piece of ammunition from those holy rollers, and the best thing is that I’d be there for you whenever you needed me. You’re going to have your hands full.”

He nodded slowly, as if giving thought to her words. “But you just got back from a leave. If you keep doing that, Malik is going to have to replace you.”

“So what?” And then she spoke the words that she’d been thinking ever since she learned that she would be the first lady. “Maybe it’s time for me to leave the club for good.”

“To do what?”

“To stand by your side. To really be your helpmate.”

“Helpmate?” He chuckled. “You
have
been reading the Bible.”

“I should be at your side; that’s what a wife’s supposed to do. And it’s not like we need the money.”

“Whoa. I never thought I’d ever hear you say
that.
So you’re willing to give up your six figures so that you can stand next to me?”

“Yup.” She snuggled closer to him. “And like I said, it’s not like we need my income. With your show and what you’ll be getting from the church…”

“I’m not taking a salary.”

It took a moment for her to make sense out of his words. “What?” She pushed herself away from him.

“I’m not taking any money,” he said, as if he needed to repeat it a different way. “First of all, my prayer is that I won’t be doing this for more than a few weeks.”

“But you don’t know that. Doctor Lewis said—”

“You know my faith is not in the doctors,” he interrupted her. “I trust that they’ll take care of my father, but my faith is with—”

“I know, I know.” Jasmine waved her hands like what he was
about to say about God wasn’t important. “But not even God can tell us when your father will wake up.” She didn’t add the one word that Dr. Lewis had used—
if
—the word that changed this whole equation.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “The point is, for however long Pops is down, it’s temporary.”

She shook her head, wishing he’d stopped talking about interim and temporary. No one knew if Reverend Bush would ever return to his position. And whether he did or not, they needed to be compensated for their work now.

“So how are we supposed to live?” she asked.
And what about my summer place in the Hamptons?

“There’s nothing wrong with the way we’re living, Jasmine. So if you want to leave Rio, that’s fine.”

“But then, we’ll just have your income from
Bring It On.

And how are we going to get two chauffeurs on that?

He said, “My check is more than sufficient. And we have plenty saved. We might have to ease up on a few things, ’cause I know you’re not thinking about moving away from here…”

You got that right!

He said, “But we’ll be all right. So give Malik your notice, if that’s what you want.”

And how will I get a new wardrobe if I do that?
“I’ll think about it,” she said, not planning to think about it at all. She was going to leave Rio, and he was going to get paid.

He rubbed his eyes, suddenly weary. “I need to check on Pops.” He reached for the phone and looked up as she paced. “Whatever you decide, I’m fine,” he assured her again.

She nodded, but her thoughts were on how she was going to get a check for Hosea into their bank account. She picked up her Bible and flipped it open, not really caring where the pages fell.

“Still no change?” she heard Hosea say.

There may have been no change with his father, but she
already had an idea about how she was going to change Hosea’s mind.

Hosea hung up the phone with a sigh. “Pops’s the same,” he whispered as he stood up and embraced her. Inside his arms, she felt his emotions—his fear, his exhaustion, his hope. She held on to him, letting him know that she would always be there.

I’m not going to say anything else,
she thought, as he led her to their bed. At least not tonight. But she was going to handle this. When she finished, not only would Hosea have a salary, but there might be a little something in it for her, too.

After all, she was the first lady.

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