Too Little Too Late Read online

  “I’m good. Very happy.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that.”

  “I hope you’re happy, too,” he said.

  It didn’t even take her a moment. “I am.” Another long silence sat between them. “Well, I really didn’t want anything more than to say hello.”

  “Listen, let me get your number.”

  “No!” she exclaimed. She could imagine that now. Kenny calling. Hosea answering. The ex-husband introducing himself to the present one. She said, “I think we should just leave things right here.”

  “O…kay,” he spoke slowly.

  “It’s just that even now, hearing your voice, I know that I did a lot of things wrong. There’s not a lot I want to remember.”

  “So you’re saying I remind you of all the bad times,” he said with no hostility in his tone.

  “It wasn’t all bad, Kenny. And it wasn’t all you.”

  He chuckled. “There was a time when I would have paid big bucks to hear you say that.”

  “I’m sorry for all we went through. I know you tried, but I guess I wasn’t happy with myself, so I couldn’t be happy with you.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t all bad and it wasn’t all you.”

  She smiled as he repeated her words. “I wish you all of God’s blessings.”

  By his pause, Jasmine knew she’d surprised him with those divine good wishes. “You too, Jasmine. Take care.”

  She held on to the phone a moment longer, remembering. But Mae Frances’s cough reminded her that she needed to forget.

  Mae Frances growled. “Well, that didn’t work.”

  “Why were you listening?”

  “Good thing I was. You were about to give up all the info that you’re trying to hide.”

  “At least now I know.”

  “Know what?”

  “I know where he’s living, that he’s married, that he has a son. And that he’s happy. I don’t have to worry about him showing up here in New York. I’m good.”

  Mae Frances twisted her lips in doubt. “Here’s hoping.”

  Jasmine smiled. For the first time in weeks, she looked forward to snuggling in bed next to Hosea. Her secrets were safe.

  She leaned back against the sofa’s edge, but Mae Frances slapped her arm, making her sit up straight. “Take your head off my couch,” Mae Frances scolded. “With all of that gel in your hair, you’re gonna mess up my furniture.”

  Jasmine rubbed the space where her skin still stung. But she couldn’t get mad. There was nothing in life that could change Mae Frances.

  “No problem. I don’t wanna mess up your furniture.” She jumped up. “Gotta go, anyway. Are you okay for dinner? Do you want me to pick up something?”

  “No, thank you. I don’t need nobody looking after me like that. I’m not an old woman, you know.”

  “I know, but I will always take care of you.” Jasmine kissed her cheek. “We’ll pick you up for church in the morning.”

  “Okay,” Mae Frances grumbled. “But I’m only going because of that ridiculous bet. Don’t make no sense that someone should blackmail someone else into going to church.”

  Jasmine chuckled. Mae Frances had been saying those same words every week.

  Both of them knew that the bet they’d made—that Mae Frances would go to church if she and Hosea reunited—was long ago over. Mae Frances had kept her end. She’d marched into church that first Sunday—in between Jasmine and Hosea—with her head high and her lips poked out. And now more than a year later, Mae Frances was still sitting in the pews at City of Lights at Riverside Church every Sunday, that is, when she wasn’t in the choir stand draped in her burgundy gown, belting out tunes of old Negro hymns with the Senior Choir.

  “See you tomorrow, Nama. Love you,” Jasmine yelled over her shoulder. She couldn’t wait to get home and start planning their second wedding. She was ready now to renew her vows, commit to Hosea again. Start all over. And this time, there would be no lies.

  THREE

  HOSEA ADJUSTED HIS TIE. His second wedding—that made him smile. He wondered if he and Jasmine would ever do this again. Maybe fifty years from now.

  That made him suddenly remember. He closed his eyes. Went back. To another time. Another wedding—that almost was, but never happened. Hosea sighed and wondered why that memory came to him now. He never thought about his past. Didn’t want to start thinking about it now.

  The door creaked open.

  “Well, you don’t look nervous.”

  Hosea grinned at his father. They hugged before he said, “No, Pops, I’m good. I don’t have to wonder whether Jasmine will show up. She can’t change her mind.” Hosea held up his hand, wiggled his fingers. The diamond chips in his wedding band glittered.

  Reverend Bush beamed, but his smile widened when the door swung open again, this time banging hard against the wall. Jacqueline scurried into the room.

  “Dada, Dada,” she squealed before she jumped into her father’s arms.

  “There’s my pumpkin.” He lifted her, pressed his lips against her neck, and exhaled.

  She giggled, then wiggled from his arms and ran to Reverend Bush. “Pop-Pop!”

  She raised her arms and her grandfather lifted her up. “Look at you, all dressed up, pretty in pink.”

  “Speaking of pretty…” The voice came from outside the room, but a moment later, Mae Frances paraded in wearing her own pink chiffon dress that fluttered around her ankles as she moved.

  “You’re beautiful, Nama.” Hosea kissed her cheek.

  She tossed her hand in the air and smoothed over her French roll. “Really? I grabbed this ol’ thing from the back of my closet.”

  Hosea grinned. He knew Mae Frances remembered that he was with her and Jasmine when they’d bought this dress a week ago. He said, “You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in the church. After my wife, of course.”

  Reverend Bush said, “Is Jasmine ready?”

  “She is. We’re just waiting for Preacher Man.”

  “Peeker Man!” Jacqueline imitated.

  Reverend Bush and Mae Frances laughed, but Hosea didn’t. “Nama, don’t call me that. I don’t want Jacquie growing up calling me Preacher Man.”

  “Peeker Man!” Jacqueline echoed.

  Hosea shook his head as he took Jacqueline from his father’s arms.

  “I’m going to check on Jasmine,” Mae Frances said. She pushed back her shoulders, raised her head high like the queen she knew she was. “Reverend, do you want to join me?”

  Reverend Bush gave her a half-smile. “If it’s okay to see the bride before the ceremony.”

  “It is. You ’re not her husband. In fact, last time I checked, you were single; isn’t that right?.” She looped her arm through Reverend Bush’s before the two left the room together.

  “Dada!”

  Hosea rested Jacqueline on his lap and hugged his daughter. He was grateful for this day. Grateful that he and Jasmine would start again. Without the secrets and the lies that had tainted their union the first time.

  Remembering their first wedding made him pull back and glance at his daughter. She ignored him; her focus was on the ribbon in front of her dress.

  Just looking at her made him smile—except for moments where that small corner of his heart ached. And now, as he’d done so many times, he searched Jacqueline’s face for just a hint of himself. It was ridiculous, he knew that. How would he ever see something that couldn’t be there?

  “You are my daughter,” he whispered. Legally, she was. His adoption of Jacqueline had been complete for months.

  “Dada,” she said.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Jacqueline really was a beauty, from her honey-colored eyes to the sharp angle of her jaw, down to her full lips. She bore no resemblance to him and if he hadn’t witnessed her birth, he would have even questioned her maternity. But Brian Lewis—that man Jacqueline did not deny. She wore her biological father’s DNA on the outside.

  That was his sentenc
e—a lifetime of looking at the daughter he loved so much and seeing what he hated most. His wife’s sin. Though he had long ago forgiven, it was a battle to forget. All he could do was remember. The sin.

  “My dada,” Jacqueline said.

  Hosea looked at his daughter. Her smile was gone, and now her thick eyebrows were bunched together like she was deep in thought.

  Hosea smiled. There it was—that was his part of her. His serious, studious nature. She was a beauty, but her brains—she’d get that from him. At least, that’s what he’d pretend.

  He lifted her up. “Did I ever tell you that I loved you before you were even born?”

  Jacqueline nodded and laughed.

  He knew she didn’t understand. But one day she would know his unconditional love for her.

  He let her legs drop to the floor. “Okay, my pumpkin. Let’s go get married.”

  “Git marry!”

  Just one look at Jasmine made him forget her sins.

  “I was made to love ya…”

  Gerald Levert crooned through the speakers and Jasmine sauntered down the aisle as Hosea’s favorite singer told how every part of him was made to love his woman. There were times when Hosea just knew this song had been written about him.

  He was made to love this woman who was moving slowly toward the altar, her eyes filled with light just for him. Two years, a multitude of sins, yet he loved her like nobody’s business. And she had never looked more beautiful than she did today, in the pink gown she wore.

  His wife had complained about the twenty extra pounds she carried since she’d given birth. But Hosea couldn’t see it. Whatever size she was now—a ten, twelve, fourteen, twenty—it didn’t matter to him. He loved every inch—from her shoulder-length auburn-streaked hair to her toned legs that would have been the envy of any sprinter, she was the perfect woman, the one created by God just for him.

  His eyes left Jasmine and he glanced down at Jacqueline, standing at his side, waiting. When he looked up again, the look of total devotion that Jasmine wore let him know that he could do this, he could take these vows and then put it all—her past, the sin, his hurt—behind him. After today, he wouldn’t think about or remember any of it anymore.

  “Mama, come!” Jacqueline’s demand broke through the majesty and they all laughed.

  “Sorry I took so long,” Jasmine said before she moved into place at the altar. She stood on the other side of Jacqueline and took her hand, the bridge between husband and wife.

  “Well, here we are again.” Pride was inside Reverend Bush’s smile as he stood before his family. “I have done a few of these ceremonies, but I’ve never done one so early into a marriage. But therein lies the beauty—there is no definition as to when one can stand before God and reaffirm love that has deepened with not only the passing of time, but also the living of life.” He paused. “Hosea and Jasmine, when you first stood at this altar two years ago, little did you know that trials would come that would test your faith, and your love—for each other and for God.” Reverend Bush paused and Jasmine and Hosea both glanced at Jacqueline.

  Clearing his throat, Reverend Bush continued. “But you kept your promises, to each other and to God, understanding that this commitment is not for a limited time, but for a lifetime.

  “So, I am proud to be here, in front of two people—” he grinned at Jacqueline, who still stood holding her parent’s hands “—excuse me, three people, who not only love God, but know God. Who understand that their union is ordained by God. Who understand that anything that God puts together, no man can take apart.”

  Hosea took a breath. As long as he remembered these words he’d be fine. This wasn’t about him. Never was. This was about the love that God had placed in his heart—for Jasmine. This was about the life that God created—in Jacqueline. This was about living the life of blessings that God had—for all of them.

  Minutes later, when Reverend Bush announced, “Hosea, you may kiss your bride…again,” Hosea had never been happier to hold his wife. Thank God, he thought as their lips met. Thank God for new beginnings.

  “May I have your attention, I’d like to say something.”

  The murmur of chatter ceased as the thirty-some-odd guests turned toward Hosea.

  Jasmine grinned as she moved to his side. “What are you going to say?”

  He answered with just a smile as his eyes scanned the space. This was so different from their first reception. Back then, they’d celebrated with two hundred guests in a private room at Tavern on the Green. But today, only the people dearest to them were here, and they celebrated in the church’s reception hall.

  Hosea had been surprised when Jasmine insisted on a simple ceremony. “Just our family,” she’d said.

  His wife had grown so much. Faith and family—that was most important to both of them. He had to talk her into including more guests than just his father, Mae Frances, and her godbrother, Malik. Now, as he glanced at the gathering—from Mrs. Whittingham, his father’s assistant, to Brother Hill, one of the head deacons at City of Lights, he was glad they’d included their friends.

  “First,” Hosea began, taking Jasmine’s hand, “thank you for sharing this day with us. For me, today is even more important than the first time. Because two years ago, I loved Jasmine, but I didn’t know Jasmine. And it was the same for her with me. But now, through time, trials, and triumphs, we know everything—the good, the bad, the ugly. We even know each other’s nightmares.”

  Soft chuckles filled the space, but Jasmine’s smile went away.

  “I want everyone to know how much I love my wife and my daughter. So in front of family and friends,” Hosea raised his glass in the air, “let me say to Jasmine Larson Bush, thank you for making me the happiest man on earth again. I look forward to our years—not without some tears—but with mostly love and laughter. This is our beginning. Clean, fresh, new.” He lifted his flute higher.

  Glasses clicked and “Cheers!” followed.

  “I have one more piece of news,” he said loud enough to get everyone’s attention again. “My wife and I are going to take an extended honeymoon.”

  “Get out!” Jasmine exclaimed. “A vacation?”

  “Well, not exactly a vacation, but you’re going to love it. We’re going to Los Angeles!”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Mrs. Whittingham said, and the rest of the crowd agreed.

  Hosea chuckled when he glanced at his wife, her face long with confusion. “I know this won’t compare to our honeymoon in Bermuda,” he said to her, “but you’re still going to enjoy it because we’re going for three months.”

  “Wow,” rang through the group. There were more smiles, more cheers. Happiness from everyone. Except for Jasmine.

  “Some of you know Triage Blue, my friend and the other executive producer on my television show. Well, Triage is making major moves. He’s gone from rapper to talk show host and now actor. He’s starring in a new Spike Lee movie, taping in L.A. So instead of finding a temporary cohost, we’re taking the show on the road.”

  “Los Angeles,” Jasmine said, still not able to find any joy.

  Hosea turned to Malik. “Bro, do you think you can manage for three months at the club without my wife?”

  “You know she runs the place.” Her godbrother smiled. “But we’ll work it out. I’m sure Rio will still be standing when you guys get back.” Malik raised his glass, toasting Hosea and Jasmine. “Don’t worry. The two of you,” he paused and looked at Jacqueline, who was sleeping in her grandfather’s arms, “the three of you go to the Left Coast and have a great time.”

  Hosea squeezed Jasmine’s hand. “A great time. That’s exactly what we plan to do for the rest of our lives.”

  FOUR

  JASMINE TUCKED JACQUELINE underneath the blanket, kissed her cheek, then tiptoed from her bedroom.

  “Is my pumpkin asleep?” Hosea asked, meeting Jasmine in the hallway.

  She nodded. “Your pumpkin had a long day.”

  He grinned a
s he put his arm around Jasmine and walked beside her. “You haven’t said much about my surprise.”

  Jasmine turned toward the massive living room windows that overlooked Central Park. Even in the night hours this tenth-floor view of the park’s southern border was a natural wonder. But the beauty didn’t bring her the peace that it normally did.

  “So, what do you think about L.A.?” Hosea settled onto the couch. “Pretty exciting, huh?”

  More like scary. “It could be.”

  “That’s not the right answer. What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t have to turn around to know that his face was now creased with concern.

  She pasted on a smile, took a deep breath, and faced him. “I was thinking…is it necessary for me to go to L.A. with you?”

  His frown deepened.

  “I mean,” she continued, “if you’re only going to be there for three months, do we need to pack up everything?”

  “We’re not moving. All we have to do is take a few bags. The show’s going to pay for our place; they’re looking at apartments at the Fairmont for the staff.”

  Years ago, she would have walked from New York to Los Angeles to spend one night in that five-star hotel in the San Fernando Valley. But that kind of stuff didn’t matter anymore. All she cared about was her husband and her daughter. And keeping her husband happy. She couldn’t do that if she were in Los Angeles.

  “But it’s more than packing a few bags, Hosea. We’ll have to disrupt Jacquie—”

  “From what?”

  “From her life.”

  Hosea chuckled. “Jacquie doesn’t care where she sleeps as long as Mama and Dada are in the next room.” He paused. “I thought you’d be excited.”

  “I am.” Jasmine lowered her eyes. “But I can’t imagine leaving my job for three months.”

  “Malik said the club would be fine.”

  “Only because you put him on the spot. He didn’t have time to consider it. I run that place. What’s going to happen to Rio if I’m gone for that long?”