stomach…or my head.” With sad, sick eyes she glanced up at him, her hat now tipped to the side. With a deep breath, she said, “Okay, let’s try this again.”
Hosea held her arm. “Take it slow.”
Barely two inches off the sofa, she groaned so loud, Jasmine wondered if something was really wrong with her.
“Okay, that’s it. You’re not going anywhere,” Hosea said.
“I’m fine.” Mae Frances held one hand to her head and the other rested near her stomach. “I don’t want to miss church.”
“You’re missing it today, Nama.”
“All right,” she said, disappointment dripping from every part of her. “I’ll rest a little and will probably feel fine—right about lunchtime. We’re going to Beverly Hills, right, Preacher Man?”
“Don’t think about that right now.” Hosea took her arm, helped her to stand.
She moved slowly, cautiously, as if pain could come with her next step. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she passed Jasmine. “Why don’t you guys just go on to church without me?”
Jasmine’s mouth opened wide, but before she could scream obscenities at her friend, Hosea said, “We’re going to stay here. Just in case you need us.”
Mae Frances glanced over her shoulder and winked.
“I’ll be right back, darlin’.”
The moment the door closed, Jasmine collapsed onto the couch and hugged Jacqueline to her chest. That would have been some major drama—running into Brian and him seeing Jacqueline.
She shuddered, held her daughter tighter.
Her focus on Natasia had left her soft, but that wouldn’t happen again. She would keep her family right here in the Valley. Brian and Alexis and Kyla and Jefferson could have the rest of the city.
As she kissed the top of Jacqueline’s head, she made mental notes. One: Find a church in the San Fernando Valley. Two: Get rid of all the drama in her life, especially Natasia. Three: Don’t add new drama, stay away from Brian. And four: Find a way to pay Mae Frances a million dollars for saving her life once again.
Jasmine held the silk sheath dress up and posed in the mirror. “Babe, don’t you love this?”
Hosea peered at his wife over his reading glasses. “How long are you going to primp like that?”
“All day, every day until I have someplace to wear this bad boy.” She jumped onto the bed and kissed Hosea. “Did I ever tell you that you’re the best husband?”
He grinned. “You’ve mentioned it.” He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes. “It was great hooking up with Sebastian,” he said, referring to the designer who had made her wedding dress. “I’d forgotten that his studio was up here.”
“Aren’t you glad I called him?”
“I think you mean, aren’t you glad?” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, though, that we didn’t get the chance to hang out in Beverly Hills.”
Jasmine wasn’t sorry at all. She’d carefully waylaid their plans to go into the city, insisting that they stay in the Valley and visit Sebastian.
“There’s nothing special about Beverly Hills anyway. I’ve been there thousands of times. And lunch at Jerry’s was better than any of those stuffy restaurants.”
He nodded. “That pastrami sandwich was tight.”
“The corned beef was good, too. Just wish I hadn’t eaten so much.” She rolled off the bed and stood in front of the mirror again, her eyes gazing at her hips. She’d been shocked when she discovered last week that she couldn’t fit into a pair of size twelve jeans. When the salesclerk had asked if she wanted a larger size, Jasmine had rolled her eyes and stomped right out of the Bloomingdale’s fitting room. “I need to lose some weight.” She sighed.
“No you don’t.”
“Easy for you to say, Mr. I’ve-lost-twenty-pounds-and-passed-them-all-to-my-wife.”
Hosea patted his belly. “I do look good, don’t I?” His laughter made Jasmine pout. “Ah, darlin’, you know I love every extra inch, every extra pound of you.”
“Hosea!”
“I do, I love
Hosea held her arm. “Take it slow.”
Barely two inches off the sofa, she groaned so loud, Jasmine wondered if something was really wrong with her.
“Okay, that’s it. You’re not going anywhere,” Hosea said.
“I’m fine.” Mae Frances held one hand to her head and the other rested near her stomach. “I don’t want to miss church.”
“You’re missing it today, Nama.”
“All right,” she said, disappointment dripping from every part of her. “I’ll rest a little and will probably feel fine—right about lunchtime. We’re going to Beverly Hills, right, Preacher Man?”
“Don’t think about that right now.” Hosea took her arm, helped her to stand.
She moved slowly, cautiously, as if pain could come with her next step. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she passed Jasmine. “Why don’t you guys just go on to church without me?”
Jasmine’s mouth opened wide, but before she could scream obscenities at her friend, Hosea said, “We’re going to stay here. Just in case you need us.”
Mae Frances glanced over her shoulder and winked.
“I’ll be right back, darlin’.”
The moment the door closed, Jasmine collapsed onto the couch and hugged Jacqueline to her chest. That would have been some major drama—running into Brian and him seeing Jacqueline.
She shuddered, held her daughter tighter.
Her focus on Natasia had left her soft, but that wouldn’t happen again. She would keep her family right here in the Valley. Brian and Alexis and Kyla and Jefferson could have the rest of the city.
As she kissed the top of Jacqueline’s head, she made mental notes. One: Find a church in the San Fernando Valley. Two: Get rid of all the drama in her life, especially Natasia. Three: Don’t add new drama, stay away from Brian. And four: Find a way to pay Mae Frances a million dollars for saving her life once again.
Jasmine held the silk sheath dress up and posed in the mirror. “Babe, don’t you love this?”
Hosea peered at his wife over his reading glasses. “How long are you going to primp like that?”
“All day, every day until I have someplace to wear this bad boy.” She jumped onto the bed and kissed Hosea. “Did I ever tell you that you’re the best husband?”
He grinned. “You’ve mentioned it.” He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes. “It was great hooking up with Sebastian,” he said, referring to the designer who had made her wedding dress. “I’d forgotten that his studio was up here.”
“Aren’t you glad I called him?”
“I think you mean, aren’t you glad?” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, though, that we didn’t get the chance to hang out in Beverly Hills.”
Jasmine wasn’t sorry at all. She’d carefully waylaid their plans to go into the city, insisting that they stay in the Valley and visit Sebastian.
“There’s nothing special about Beverly Hills anyway. I’ve been there thousands of times. And lunch at Jerry’s was better than any of those stuffy restaurants.”
He nodded. “That pastrami sandwich was tight.”
“The corned beef was good, too. Just wish I hadn’t eaten so much.” She rolled off the bed and stood in front of the mirror again, her eyes gazing at her hips. She’d been shocked when she discovered last week that she couldn’t fit into a pair of size twelve jeans. When the salesclerk had asked if she wanted a larger size, Jasmine had rolled her eyes and stomped right out of the Bloomingdale’s fitting room. “I need to lose some weight.” She sighed.
“No you don’t.”
“Easy for you to say, Mr. I’ve-lost-twenty-pounds-and-passed-them-all-to-my-wife.”
Hosea patted his belly. “I do look good, don’t I?” His laughter made Jasmine pout. “Ah, darlin’, you know I love every extra inch, every extra pound of you.”
“Hosea!”
“I do, I love
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