Tim went into the kitchen leaving Abby and Jasmine staring at each other. It was similar to two gunmen facing each other in the street in an Italian western, waiting for the other to draw first. Neither was willing to make the first move. Soon, Tim returned holding some clothes in his hands.
Jasmine spoke before Tim got far into the living room. “I don’t think I should stay Tim. I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and your wife.”
“Nonsense, now go on to the bathroom and clean up. It’s the first door on the right after the staircase. We can talk afterwards.”
Jasmine maneuvered her crutches down the hallway, went in the bathroom, and after Tim showed her where everything was, closed the door. Soon water could be heard coming from the shower head. Tim and Abby could talk now. He followed his wife to the kitchen.
“Abby, Jasmine was beaten up and kicked out of her apartment by her pimp. She needs a safe place to heal up. We have the space.”
“Tim, are you out of your ever-loving mind? Bringing a whore into a house with your wife and a 13-year-old girl living here? I hope that you don’t think that I agree with you doing that. Sweetheart, she is not some stray puppy like the ones you are always rescuing, get fixed and find people to adopt her. Now, please give her some money but make her go away somewhere else and let someone else take care of her.”
“There is no one else to help her. Please Abby, where is your Christian charity? Jasmine is a woman in desperate need of help, and we can afford to give her some. I can’t in good conscience turn her away.”
“Charity? What you are wanting to do is insanity, not charity. Let me be clear, I do not want to have THAT woman staying in this house . . . Oh, my God. Please, please tell me you don’t still have feelings for her?”
“Abby, Jasmine and I were married for over six years, for God’s sake. Of course, I have feelings for her, but those are not romantic feelings anymore. My main feeling for her right now is pity. She’s in bad shape in lots of ways.”
“Tim, I know you are a good, kind-hearted man and you want to help people in need, but you have to learn you can’t help all the people in the world who need help. There are too many and some are too dangerous. Honey, we have to draw the line somewhere with our charity. In this instance, I am drawing the line right here — at the threshold of our house. I am telling you, if you let her stay, I will not lift one solitary finger to help her.”
“Fine, I will get her settled in the guest room downstairs by myself.”
Abby was shocked that Tim didn’t immediately capitulate. She was beside herself trying to find a way to make Tim understand the seriousness of what she was saying. She thought and thought of something to say that would make him change his mind. The first thing she could think to say was, “Tim, how do you know she won’t rob us blind during the night?”
By this time, Jasmine had finished showering and walked on her crutches into the last part of the conversation. “Don’t worry about me, Abby. I’ll wait until it’s light before I rob you.”
Tim admonished her. “Jasmine, you’re not helping with snide comments like that.”
“Sorry Tim, you know I can’t pass up a good chance for sarcasm.”
Jessie came down dressed in her pajamas. She interrupted the conversation, “Mom, Dad, what the heck is going on down here? Who is that old person in your clothes, Mom? Is she homeless? I hope so. It would be so cool to meet a real homeless person.”
“Jessie, this is my ex-wife, Jasmine. She needs a place to stay for a while and we’re going to help her. Jasmine, this is our daughter Jessie.”
Jessie squealed, “Did you say I’m her daughter?!”
“No, dear I said you are OUR daughter with the ‘our’ meaning your mother, Abby and me.”
“Shucks, that would have been so neat to tell everyone at school that I have a mother I never knew about show up out of the blue.”
“Jessie!”
“Chill, mom. How long is she staying? Can she stay in my room and bunk with me?”
“Heavens no! We haven’t for sure decided yet IF she is staying. Tim, we need to talk some more – in private. Jessie, I’ll take your butt back upstairs. It’s way past your bedtime.” Abby was hoping Tim would take the hint and Jasmine would not be there when she came back downstairs.
Once in Jessie’s room, the girl asked, “Mom, was Dad really married to that woman before he married you?”
“Yes, dear. I’m afraid so.”
“But she looks so . . . so . . . old and ugly and skinny and dirty and sickly and . . . and yucky. I have trouble imagining Dad could have ever married a woman who looked like her.”
“Well, she didn’t look like that before.”
“What happened to her?”
“There’s no delicate way to explain. The truth is that one day, she decided to sell her body to men for money. Some women of low morals have done that since the beginning of civilization, unfortunately. We call women like her ‘prostitutes.’ When your father found out, he divorced her as well he should have.”
“‘Prostitute’ is the same thing as a whore, right?”
“That’s another less-proper term people have used.”
“Cool, wait until I tell my friends we have a whore living with us!”
“You will not do anything of the kind, young lady! You get under the covers now. I am going down and do everything I can to convince your father to take her somewhere else if she is still here. She is NOT our responsibility.”
“Aw, Mom, I have a lot of questions I would like to ask her about being a prostitute. Maybe an article for our student newspaper. If she stays, can I ask her in the morning if she is still here?”
“I can’t believe you, child. Where have I gone wrong in raising you? Now get to bed and don’t come downstairs again tonight.”
“Okay, but how am I going to learn things if you won’t let me ask questions?”
Abby went downstairs where Timothy was putting sheets on the bed in the guest bedroom. Jasmine was getting something to eat in the kitchen. Abby entered the guestroom and closed the door behind her.
“Tim, stop. We have not finished discussing whether or not that woman should stay in this house.”
“Abby, I know this is difficult for you, but I sincerely believe this is the right thing to do. What are you so concerned about? You don’t really think she would rob us, do you?”
“I am concerned that we have let a prostitute, a whore, a street walker in our house and can’t believe you don’t see there is a problem. I remind you that prostitution is not legal in this state, so she is in fact a criminal. Women like her are usually on drugs. If she is, she probably is not above stealing money or valuables from us to buy drugs. Don’t you realize that addicts don’t care about anything except their next fix? And for all we know, she may be bringing an incurable venereal disease like AIDS into our home. Tim, we have an impressionable teenage daughter living under our roof who wants to interview her like she was writing a column for a school paper. Don’t any of those things bother you?”
“The doctor found no drugs in her tox screen. No one in this house is going to have sex with her to transmit any diseases she might or might not have. Hopefully, our daughter will learn that charity means sacrificing some of our comfort to help someone else. As far as your concern about her profession, what about the Biblical story of Jesus and the prostitute at the well?”