Faith (7 page)

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Authors: Michelle Larks

BOOK: Faith
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Chapter 7
“What have you got there, Marcus?” Wade asked. He'd just returned from the kitchen area after pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Travel brochures.” Marcus held them up. “I was thinking about taking Monet on a Hawaiian cruise for the holidays. So I've been checking around, doing some research online, and calling travel agencies.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” Wade answered. “If it weren't for the kids, me and Liz would go with you.” He sat down at his desk and began eating a donut.
“I know.” Marcus nodded. “If we don't go to Hawaii, then we'll be at your house for Christmas, and you'll come to ours for New Year's.”
Wade picked up his coffee and sipped. “That tastes good. Nothing is better than a good cup of coffee in the morning. And yeah, I figured you and Monet would be at the house for Christmas like always.”
The couples, along with Liz and Wade's children, usually spent major holidays together. The friends rotated, meeting at each other's houses on the last Friday of each month for a fish fry.
Marcus nodded and left the room to refresh his own cup of coffee. When he returned to his desk, Wade asked, “Did you mention your idea to Monet?” He began moving files on his desk.
“Not yet, I wanted to check the prices first. The Hawaiian cruise is for ten days, departing the day before Christmas Eve, so that would cover both holidays. I checked with the chief, and he approved the time off,” Marcus said.
“Are you sure Monet would want to go? Christmas is her favorite time of the year,” Wade queried. He put a file on the bottom of his three tier tray.
“I thought about that, but I still think it would be good for us to get away. Monet still hasn't fully recovered from the attack. Some nights she wakes up screaming and can't go back to sleep. So I think a change of pace would be good medicine for both of us.”
Wade nodded. “Great. I imagine Monet's symptoms are normal considering what she's gone through. What does her doctor say? What's her name?” He snapped his fingers. “Wallace?”
“No,” Marcus corrected. “It's Dr. Washington. Monet has an appointment with her today. Doc mentioned giving her a sleep aid the last time she was there, but Nay-Nay fought that suggestion. She doesn't like doing the pill thing.”
Wade paused with his filing and complimented his friend. “I want to say that you've stepped up to the plate for Monet, just like I knew you would.”
“I couldn't do any less, and I know if something happened to me, Nay-Nay would do the same.” Marcus's telephone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, picking up the phone. He listened intently for a few minutes and wrote notes on the pad next to his phone.
Wade looked at his partner, who seemed to be involved in an intense conversation. Marcus had knocked over his cup of coffee and made no effort to clean up the mess. Wade sprung up out of his seat and took napkins off his desk and handed them to Marcus, who ignored him. Wade sopped up the spilled liquid and waited for Marcus to get off the telephone. Marcus hung up the telephone, stroked his beard, and looked at Wade with an astounded expression on his face.
Wade raised his eyebrows inquiringly, and asked, “What's up, man? What was that about?”
“I never would've believed that call if I hadn't heard it with my own ears,” Marcus replied, staring at Wade with amazed filled eyes.
“Believed what? What are you talking about?” Wade asked impatiently.
“I talked to a man on the phone who said he was Monet's father. He wants to meet her and the twins.” Marcus shook his head in disbelief.
“I thought Monet's father was dead?” Wade cocked his head to the side and peered at Marcus.
“The truth is Monet's old man deserted his family when she was a kid. He just up and left Birmingham, and hasn't been heard from since,” Marcus said.
“That's remarkable,” Wade muttered, shaking his head. “What are you going to do? Do you think Monet wants to meet him? What about your brothers-in-law? What will their reaction be?”
“I really don't know. Monet has expressed sadness over the years from not knowing her father. But she never tried to actively seek him. I don't remember Derek or Duane saying anything one way or the other.” Marcus shrugged his shoulders, and then held up damp pieces of paper and waved them in the air.
“So, what are you going to do? How did you respond to his request? What's his name?” Wade asked. His arm was propped on the desk, and his face rested on his hand.
“His name is Aron Reynolds. I told him I'd think about what he wanted and call him back in a few days,” Marcus replied.
“How did he track you down?” Wade went into investigation mode, drilling his partner.
“He said he saw one of the newspaper articles about Monet's attack.” Marcus frowned. “He also said that Monet's mother gave him our information.” He set the papers back on his desk, wiped his hands on a napkin, and leaned back in his chair.
“I wonder what he's been doing all of these years,” Wade mused, shaking his head.
“The call came from a prison in Illinois, and I plan on finding out what he's in for before I say anything to Monet or the twins.”
“I don't know that you're approaching this correctly. I think you should at least tell Monet's brothers. I can understand your wanting to protect Monet in the long run,” Wade advised.
“I hear what you're saying, but I still want to check Aron out myself, and then I'll take things from there, depending on what I find out. I think they'll trust my intuition on this. I won't let too much time elapse before I tell them,” Marcus promised. “Too bad you and Liz can't go with us on the cruise. I know the girls would enjoy the trip together,” he said, changing the subject.
“I hear you, but all the kids will be home this year, and this is Samera's first Christmas.” Wade picked up a picture of his nine-month-old granddaughter from his desk and grinned like the proud grandfather he was. “She's our first grandbaby, and Liz is driving me crazy. She's been shopping like there's no tomorrow. I keep reminding her that Samera is a baby and won't remember a thing about the holiday.”
“I imagine if Nay-Nay and I were in the same position, she would be doing the same thing.” Marcus felt a twinge of longing for the children they would never have.
“I didn't mean anything by bringing up Samera.” Wade looked away as if he'd committed a fauxpas.
“Hey, dude, it ain't nothing. I can live the rest of my life without little ones; it's Monet I feel for. I don't think she'll ever give up her desire to have children. We've seen so many doctors over the years, and remember we went to Jerusalem to the Wailing Wall, and to Hot Springs Arkansas to bathe in the spas. We've had more ministers pray over us than terminally ill patients in a hospital. And at the end of the day, all the doctors could tell us was that there aren't any medical issues with me or Nay-Nay that would stop us from having a baby,” Marcus reminisced.
“I remember those times.” Wade nodded. “I'm surprised you two didn't go the in vitro route.”
“Trust me, we almost did. When Monet's mother passed, she had an insurance policy, and the amount doubled due to her being in an accident. Monet wanted to use the money for in vitro. It took me months to talk her out of the idea.”
Wade cleared his throat. “Well, me and Liz, and WJ and Genesse consider you two to be honorary grandparents to Samera.”
“I know, and trust me, Monet has been spending money on Samera too,” Marcus said. The men shared a laugh, and then he said, “I guess we should get back to work.”
Marcus was grateful that he had a friend that he could talk to about his most intimate issues, and it was a bonus that Monet and Liz were best friends. The men had worked together since they were rookies on the police squad, and had lived in the same apartment building before they bought their homes in Auburn.
Wade was like the brother Marcus didn't have, and Liz more than filled the void as a sister for Monet. They were godparents to all of Liz and Wade's children; WJ (for Wade Junior), Shavon, and their youngest daughter, Erin. Liz was an only child, and Wade had one brother.
When WJ and Genesse got married, Monet and Marcus contributed to the pair's wedding costs, and were escorted to their seats along with the couple's parents and grandparents.
The department clerk walked over to Marcus and Wade. “This just came in.” She handed an assignment sheet to Marcus. “The chief wants you to get on it right away.”
Marcus scanned the paper. “There was a murder on Seventy-first Street and Eggleston.” He told the clerk, “Tell the chief we're on it. I guess I'll call Monet later and see how her doctor visit went,” he said to Wade, as they stood up and prepared to leave. They placed their weapons in their shoulder holsters and left the room.
Marcus's thoughts strayed to Monet once again, and he hoped her visit with Dr. Washington had gone well. He didn't have a clue that their lives were about to careen out of control again.
Chapter 8
More time elapsed, and Monet was fidgeting in her chair, still waiting for Dr. Washington to return. She almost couldn't believe there was even a remote possibility that she was pregnant. She shifted into denial mode and decided, until she heard otherwise, that she was just suffering after effects from the attack. Her heart rate accelerated when she thought about being raped. She pulled a book out of her bag and began to read it to pass the time.
Dr. Washington walked into the room with a subdued look on her face and sat heavily down in the chair next to Monet.
Monet swallowed a couple of times and thought,
Dear Lord, she looks so serious, I hope I'm not dying
. “Well?” She guffawed nervously. “What are the test results? You look so grim. I hope I'm not dying or anything.”
“Monet, in all my years of practicing medicine, I've never encountered a situation like this. You are definitely pregnant, this is December and I'd say you're about two months along,” Dr. Washington stated.
At first, Monet sat in stunned silence. Then she smiled to herself and chortled with glee. She said softly, then louder and raised her hands in the air. “Thank you, Jesus. Father, you answered my prayers.” She pressed her hands together, as if in prayer.
Dr. Washington watched Monet for a few minutes. Then she moistened her lips and said, “I would usually congratulate my patient at this point in the conversation, if the circumstances were different. But with the timing of the pregnancy, coinciding with the time of the rape and your conception issue, I'm truly at a loss for words.”
“Why?” Monet asked, as her left eyebrow rose quizzically. “I beg to differ. I believe congratulations
are
in order.”
Dr. Washington said as gently as she could, “I think there's a great possibility that the baby you're carrying might be your attacker's and not your husband's child.”
“You're wrong,” Monet replied vehemently. “I know this is Marcus's baby. I had been ovulating that morning and for a few days before that. Oh, Lord,” she moaned, “it couldn't be
his
baby. God wouldn't be so cruel to me.” She composed herself and said, “I know this baby is a girl, and that it's me and Marcus's child. There's nothing you can say to convince me otherwise.”
“I know this news is totally unexpected, but I think you should at least consider the possibility that the child might not be Marcus's. I know this is a lot for you to comprehend. One option available to you is to terminate the pregnancy. Trust me, no one would fault you under the circumstances.” Dr. Washington spoke in a kindly tone of voice while she reached for Monet's hand.
Monet snatched her hand away from the doctor. “No, you're wrong, Dr. Washington. I'm a Christian, and I would never have an abortion under any circumstances. I knew one day I would become pregnant because God told me that I would.”
Dr. Washington was worried that Monet might be having a breakdown. So keeping her expression neutral, she asked, “When did He tell you that?”
Monet waved her hand dismissively. “He has told me that many times. Sometimes in my dreams, and other times I could feel Him speaking to me in my heart.”
The doctor looked at Monet pityingly. “I believe you if you say so, but what will Marcus say? I'm sure your ordeal has been as difficult for him as it has been for you.”
For the first time since Dr. Washington had given Monet the news that she was pregnant, Monet felt doubtful. “I don't know how Marcus will feel. But we've been married for a long time, and I know he'll come around.”
“What if he doesn't? Are you willing to sacrifice your marriage over a child that more than likely is not your husband's?” Dr. Washington probed.
“I respect you as my doctor, but I think you're out of line. If you continue talking to me in that vein, then it's best that I leave before I say something I might later regret. Is there anything else?” Monet said distantly. She picked her purse up off the floor and stood up.
Dr. Washington walked around the desk and sat in her chair. “I'm sorry if I offended you. That wasn't my intention. But I would be remiss if I didn't mention the possibility of the baby's paternity.” She touched her chest. “If you think you want to continue the pregnancy, then I can give you a referral for a good obstetrician.” The doctor felt like she'd handled the situation incorrectly and wanted to make amends. Monet had been her patient for years.
“No, I can find one on my own. Thank you, Dr. Washington,” Monet said frostily. She put on her jacket. “I'm a nurse, I know doctors too.” She lifted her chin up defiantly.
“I'm sorry if I was out of line,” Dr. Washington apologized. “I just wanted you to be aware of all your options, and to keep an open mind where you husband is concerned. Men are proud, and though there are a many who would accept children by other men, I'm just not sure how your husband would react under the circumstances.”
“Your apology is accepted, and I understand what you're saying, Dr. Washington. But I know what God told me, and I have never given up hope that one day I would have Marcus's son or daughter,” Monet said fervently. She put the strap of her purse on her shoulder.
“Okay then. On your way out, I'd like you to make an appointment with me for a month from now, and we'll see how you're doing and feeling. Monet, don't hesitate to call me if you need anything. I have to respect your feelings, so accept my congratulations.” Dr. Washington tried to interject some gaiety into her voice and smile at Monet, but her efforts weren't quite successful.
“Thank you. I'll make the appointment, and believe me, I'll be fine,” Monet said even as butterflies darted inside her stomach. Though she spoke with an air of bravado, she wasn't sure what Marcus would think. She prayed he would be as excited and joyful as she was, but knew there was a chance he might accept the news like Dr. Washington predicted.
Monet and Dr. Washington said good-bye, and Monet left the doctor's office. She went to the nurse's station and made an appointment for the second week in January. There was a bounce in her step as she walked to the elevator, and then to the parking lot to her car. Monet sat in her car for a moment, trying to rein in her thoughts. The couple had always planned to name their child Faith, if the Lord saw fit to bless their union with a daughter.
She bowed her head, and said aloud, “Lord, thank you for giving me my daughter, Faith. It seems like a lifetime ago when Marcus and I said we'd name our first daughter Faith Imani. I couldn't tell Dr. Washington that when Marcus rejected my idea to adopt, you told me that I would have a daughter and that I had to be patient. I suffered from what I call the Sarah Syndrome, and I believe with you, God, all things are possible. Father, I don't know how Marcus is going to react to the news, but I pray he will trust and believe in you. God, again, thank you for my miracle, Faith Imani Caldwell.” She closed her eyes and listened to God tell her to be strong for the times that lay ahead, and how she would be blessed. Peace inundated Monet's being. And she knew in that instant that her belief and instincts were correct . . . Marcus was Faith's father; she had no reason to doubt that.
As she turned on the car, a satisfied grin split her face. When she stopped at the booth to pay her parking fee, the attendant looked at her and said, “You must have gotten some good news. You are positively glowing.”
“Yes, the best news in the world. I'm going to be a mother,” Monet said, preening prettily. She handed the woman her parking ticket and a five dollar bill.
“Well, congratulations. I wish you the best. What do you want, a girl or boy?” The attendant handed Monet the change.
“I'm having a girl,” Monet said, and put the two dollar bills into her wallet.
“Well good for you. I wish you the best.”
“Thanks, I'll see you next time.” Monet drove out of the lot and headed south to her home.
She had to concentrate hard on driving because her mind kept wandering to the long awaited news Dr. Washington had given her. She was going to be a mother.
She parked her car in the garage. When she opened the backdoor, Mitzi greeted her at the door, wagging her tail rapidly. Monet picked up her pet and hugged her. “How's Momma's baby?” She fussed over her baby, while Mitzi licked her face. She put Mitzi down on the floor.
Monet walked to the foyer and took out a hanger and hung up her coat. Then she returned to the kitchen and put water in Mitzi's dish. Satisfied that her pet was taken care of, she walked into her office located near the kitchen area. The den had been made into an office for Monet, and the basement was Marcus's domain. The walls in the room were painted a soft beige hue, and Monet collected fabric African murals in earth tone colors, which covered two walls. In addition to the murals, many African and Native American statues were situated on wood shelves, along with a top of the line computer on a glass desk. A flat screen television was mounted on another wall. Beige carpeting complemented a burnt orange sofa with a matching wingback chair. An antique table was positioned in front of the sofa, and there was a wood burning fireplace on another wall.
Monet sat on the sofa, kicked off her shoes, and curled her legs underneath her body. She stroked her tummy. “Hello, Faith,” she whispered, “this is your mommy speaking. I'm so glad that God gave you to me. I can hardly wait to see your beautiful face. We have a lot to talk about, and we don't have to wait until you make your arrival. I have a lot to tell you.”
She bit her fingernails. Though she had put on a brave face for Dr. Washington, reality had set in, and doubts about the baby's paternity, due to her fear of Marcus's reaction, clouded Monet's mind.
What if Marcus doesn't believe that Faith is his baby and leaves me? There is no way he'd raise the child of a rapist. Oh Lord, I wish my momma was here. She would hold me in her arms and tell me that everything is going to be okay. Lord, give me strength to face Marcus, and help me to convince him that Faith is his baby. Show me the way, Lord.
Monet picked up her Bible from the table. She could hear her mother's voice in her mind saying, “Baby, take your burdens to the Lord, and He'll work them out.” She opened the Bible to a random page, intent on seeing where the Spirit would lead her. As she read, she felt fortified in her belief. The scripture was just what she needed, like a dose of medicine.
She had opened the Bible to Philippians 4:4. Her fingers traced the words as she silently read,
Rejoice in the Lord always; and again I say, Rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise think on these things. Those things which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do; and the God of peace shall be with you.
When Monet finished reading the scripture, she held her hands over her face and began sobbing, a cleansing cry, and she read the passage over and over because it brought peace to her very being. She curled up on the sofa with her hands cradled protectively over her abdomen, and within minutes she fell asleep; dreaming about a caramel colored baby girl with her mother's eyes and her father's dark hair.
Mitzi licked Monet's hand, which had fallen off the couch and dangled near the floor. When Monet sat up, her stomach felt queasy. She rushed to the bathroom just in time to avoid making a mess on the floor that she would have hated to clean up. She returned to the kitchen, with Mitzi trotting behind her.
“Thank you for waking me up,” she told the dog. “Now I can prepare Daddy's favorite meal and share the good news with him.”
The dog sashayed across the floor and laid on her doggy bed, playing with a rubber toy, while Monet opened the refrigerator and cabinets in search of the perfect food for the soul. She had cooked a full course meal nearly every day since she'd been off work. Marcus loved her being home. She decided to prepare broiled steaks, and a steamed broccoli and cauliflower blend, along with twice baked potatoes and a Caesar salad. She thought a strawberry cheesecake for dessert would cap off the meal. She set the ingredients on the countertop, and then walked down to the basement.
Marcus and Monet were not heavy drinkers, but enjoyed a glass of champagne on New Year's Eve and wine to celebrate their birthdays. In the summer, Marcus indulged in a few beers. Monet walked over to the wine rack and removed a bottle of sparkling cider. She thought her news called for a celebration. When she returned upstairs, Monet put the cider in the refrigerator to chill.
Before long, appetizing aromas filled the kitchen as Monet completed her chore. She glanced at the apple shaped clock on the wall above the microwave. Marcus would be home in about twenty minutes. She hurriedly put the dishes and utensils she had used in the dishwasher. While the cheesecake was chilling in the refrigerator, and the steaks were set low in the oven, Monet rushed upstairs to take a shower.

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