Free Lady Jasmine by Victoria Christopher Murray

much.”
    “Spoken like a wife,” he said.
    “Spoken like a wife who’s been very well taken care of.”
    He chuckled and then the way his arms drew her closer, she could tell that his smile was gone. His thoughts had already left Midtown Manhattan and were up in Harlem.
    But he said, “I needed this.”
    She snuggled closer, tried to hold him tighter. “Your father’s going to recover.” She answered the question that he hadn’t even asked.
    She could feel him nod. “I thought he’d be awake by now.”
    “He’ll wake up. People have been in comas for many, many years and come out fine. No matter how long, your father’s going to be one of those survivors.”
    “That’s my prayer.” He paused. “Thank you for being with me through this.”
    She lifted her head. “Where else would I be? I’ll always be by your side.”
    “I’m glad you said that, because I’ve been thinking about how I want to lead at City of Lights. I want you with me, Jasmine. Whenever you can be. I want you in as many meetings aspossible so that you’ll know what’s going on.”
    “Really?” She lifted herself up on her elbows.
    He nodded. “That’s how Pops did it with my mother. He always said it was better for them to stand together than for him to sit alone. That’s the way I want it to be with us. For however long we’re there.”
    She leaned over and gently pressed her lips against his. “Thank you.”
    “This way, in case I can’t be there one Sunday, I’ll know everything will run smoothly.”
    She frowned. “You’re not talking about me giving a sermon, are you?” She shook her head, not even able to imagine herself standing at the podium, her Bible in her hand, and light shining through the image of Jesus Christ from the stained-glass window behind her.
    And then a flash—of her past.
    Dollar bills falling from the sky.
    A voice from the past screamed, “Let’s make it rain, baby!”
    There was laughter. Hoots and hollers as men tossed money.
    At her.
    As she stood as close to naked as she could get.
    She gasped.
    “Jasmine?”
    She shook her head, to rid that scene from her memory.
    “Jasmine?”
    Those days—well over twenty years ago—had been far from her consciousness. But for almost a week now, these little images kept creeping up.
    Why now? There was no reason to think about that long ago time. She was far away from those days.
    “Are you listening to me?”
    It took a moment for her husband’s face to come back into focus. “Huh?”
    “Where did you go?”
    Pulling the sheet to her bare chest, she blinked, making sure the memory was gone. “I was thinking about what you said.”
    “I wasn’t talking about you preaching. I want you to know everything that’s going on so that you could have my back if I’m not there.” He took her hand. “I really need you.”
    She tucked away all thoughts of her past. “I got you, babe. Always.” It was time to go after her Valentine’s Day gift. “Now, I have some news. Malik…he wants me to take a leave of absence,” she lied.
    “Why?”
    “He thinks I’m going to be distracted. Especially after what he saw in that meeting the other day. He said I should keep my focus on you and Dad.”
    Slowly, Hosea nodded. “Your godbrother is a good man.”
    “He is, but Hosea, this time I don’t feel good about taking my salary. He paid me the whole time we were in Los Angeles, and now…well, I don’t want to take advantage that way. But—” She stopped, knowing that was enough.
    He said, “I don’t want you to take advantage of him, either.” He paused, inhaled a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll tell the board that I need to draw a salary.”
    “Thank you, babe.” She hugged him; she’d forgotten to tell Malik how much she wanted, but she knew her godbrother would hook it up.
    Finally! She was on her way to being the fabulous first lady of City of Lights at Riverside Church.
    She couldn’t wait until Sunday.

ELEVEN
    J ASMINE PUSHED THE DOOR