I exhaled with relief. “Yes.”
“Well, I want to know when you’re coming back to your post.”
“You mean as armor bearer?”
“Yes. You can come back anytime you want.”
I lowered my head sadly. “I’d like that, but I don’t think it’s for me anymore.”
First Lady came and sat next to me. I could tell she was getting into prayer mode. “What do you mean you don’t think it’s for you?”
“How can I be a good armor bearer if I’m failing in my own walk?”
“You think that just because you’ve made some wrong turns, you’re failing?”
“I knew that the Lord was telling me not to marry Travis. I never felt any peace with that decision, but I pushed His voice out of my spirit. Now look at me!”
“Charmayne, I am looking at you. The Lord has forgiven you of your sin of disobedience, and you’ve already paid a hefty price. But I also see a survivor in you. Tell me how long it took the Israelites to get into the Promised Land.”
“Forty years.”
“Right. They walked much farther than God would’ve had them to, because of their stiff-necked behavior.”
“So you’re saying I just took a detour?”
“You went down a dead-end road, honey, but now you’re back on the right path.”
“How do I know that I’m back?”
“Do you feel peace in your spirit, honey?”
“Yes. It’s been awhile since I felt it, but my peace has returned.”
First Lady beamed. “Well, you need to get on back, because that Piper is driving me crazy.”
I laughed with First Lady. Everything was starting to feel normal again. I knew that I was back on the Lord’s path for my life. I could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit like I had before I’d decided to take matters into my own hands. I was glad, too, because I didn’t want to be like the Israelites. I didn’t have forty years to get this thing right.
Later that day I had a session with Dr. King. She’d been hinting that our time together was almost finished, but I had come to depend on her for her wisdom. I hoped that we would continue to be friends once the sessions were through.
I told her about my conversation with First Lady. “She said that my marriage to Travis was like my wilderness experience.”
Dr. King nodded. “I like that! Tell her I’m going to have to take that and use it.”
I laughed. “I sure will.”
“I’m going to have to agree with First Lady Jenkins. You had a momentary lapse of judgment when it came to marrying Travis. From your descriptions of the man, it’s not hard to imagine many other women making the same choices.”
“That’s what really burns me! I know that Travis is going to use his charms and woo one of my sisters in Christ, and there’s nothing that I can do about it.”
Dr. King replied, “There is something you can do about it.”
“Pray that the Lord smites him?”
She laughed. “Charmayne, I’m so glad to see that your humor has returned. No, you cannot pray for his demise, but you can pray for his deliverance. Jesus can work on his heart and repair his character.”
“And make him the perfect husband for someone else, right?”
“Perhaps. I don’t know that he will make a good husband for anyone.”
“He sure wasn’t a good one for me.”
Dr. King asked, “Thinking back, were there any warning signs that your marriage was in trouble?”
I nodded slowly. “Dr. King . . . it was troubled from the very beginning.”
CHAPTER Twenty-five
Past
It was the Thursday morning of our meeting with my financial planner, and I was nervous. I’d taken the day off work so that I’d have enough time to devote to the meeting. Travis had gotten up early and made breakfast for the both of us, but I just wasn’t hungry at all. I followed the smells of bacon and vanilla-flavored pancakes into the kitchen with a lackluster attitude.
Travis was standing in the kitchen cooking in his underwear. He liked to go around the house wearing no shirt, allowing his muscular form to get all the exposure that it needed. His chest and back were glistening with scented body oil. I’d never met a man more concerned with his appearance.
Even though he was half naked, I felt underdressed in my robe and slippers. He’d suggested to me that I try going around naked. He said I would feel liberated. I told him that in order for me to walk around the house naked, we’d have to paint all the mirrors black.
I sat down at the kitchen counter. “Good morning, Travis.”
“Morning!” he said cheerily.
“Breakfast smells good. What are we having?”
“You are having a stack of my gourmet vanilla pancakes and warm crispy bacon. I am having a protein shake.”
“What are you doing? Trying to fatten me up?”
“No. You’re fine, and I’m about to start training, so I need protein.”
“Training? For what?”
“Training, so that I can retain this physique that I’ve been blessed with. I’m also joining a gym. There’s a new twenty-four-hour gym on South Woodland.”
“Great! I’ll join with you. I need to get in shape anyway, and that’s something we can do together.”
Travis furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I don’t have any objections to you joining a gym, but not my gym.”
“You don’t want to work out with me?”
“I wouldn’t be working out with you anyway. You need strictly low-impact cardio, and I’m doing mostly weight training.”
“Well, we can still be in the same building.”
“I’d rather not. I use my time at the gym to clear my mind and meditate. I don’t need you there.”
I was angered beyond words. “Is clear my mind and meditate another term for messing around on me with another woman?”
“Here we go again with the trust issue.”
I shot right back, “No, here we go again with your surprises.”
Travis placed the heaping plate of food in front of me. He then took his protein shake and marched right on out of the kitchen. I guessed that the conversation was over and the decision had been made. Travis would be joining a gym, and I would be sitting home getting even fatter off his cooking.
We were still not conversing with one another when we left for the meeting with my financial planner, Victoria Summers. I’d informed her ahead of time that I wouldn’t be revealing all my assets to Travis. Vicki didn’t think it was a good idea to keep anything a secret. She’d asked me what I would do if I needed to tell him somewhere down the road. She thought that it was the kind of secret that could destroy a marriage. I’d taken her admonishments to heart, but I was willing to risk it. I wasn’t planning on being anyone’s sugar mama.
Vicki greeted us at the door, as I was one of her most lucrative clients. She’d even ordered a catered lunch for our meeting. Travis was impressed, but I knew Vicki, and this was the typical red-carpet treatment she gave her best clients. I felt it was deserved, with the amount of money I paid for her services.
Travis handed Vicki his small stack of bank account receipts. She bit her lower lip as she read the information. I knew exactly what was going on in her mind. His $22,000 in assets paled in comparison with the $210,000 that I had stockpiled in mutual funds, bonds, annuities, and liquid cash. Vicki usually didn’t even take on clients who had less than $150,000 in assets. It began to dawn on her why I only wanted to give Travis a limited picture of my net worth.
Vicki asked, “Mr. Moon, is it all right if I call you Travis?”
“Of course.” Travis smiled broadly. He was finally getting the respect he felt he deserved.
“I’ve been with Charmayne for years, but I didn’t want to take any liberties. You may call me Vicki.”
“All right, Vicki,” said Travis, “let’s get down to business. What has my beautiful wife not been telling me?”
Vicki glanced in
my direction and I smiled. I hoped that she was going to honor my request.
She responded, “Well, Charmayne has one of the best credit scores I’ve ever seen. She’s above seven hundred, which is perfect. She has one hundred ten thousand dollars in a highly diversified portfolio that includes mutual funds, annuities, and bonds.”
Travis looked from Vicki to me and then back to Vicki. “A hundred ten thousand? Is that all? How much of that is liquid?” His voice was ominously tense, and he was sitting at the edge of his seat.
Vicki chuckled nervously—she’d noticed Travis’s demeanor. “It almost sounds like you’re ready to cut and run, Mr. Moon.”
“Of course not. I simply don’t like being in the dark. What if something happens to Charmayne today? You could end up robbing me blind and I’d never know.”
Vicki answered, “About forty thousand is relatively liquid, with ten thousand in a money market checking account that is totally accessible.”
“So when are we putting my name on everything?” That question was to me, and I looked to Vicki, hoping she’d stall for me.
“I can draw up the paperwork, and it will take about sixty days for everything to go into effect. I’ll have the papers in Charmayne’s office by next Wednesday.”
Travis looked irritated. “Well, I guess that will do.”
“I’m sorry it can’t go any faster than that. But you know how banks are.”
He shifted in his seat. “Yes. I understand. Is there a restroom in this office?”
“Yes.” Vicki handed him the keys. “Go down this long hall and make a right, then it’s the third door down on your left.”
“Thank you.”
When Travis was safely down the hall, Vicki closed her office door. She exhaled loudly and walked briskly back over to her desk.
She said, “He’s a real piece of work. Where did you find him?”
“Don’t ask. I didn’t know he was so concerned with my assets until about a month ago. I paid for something with a gold credit card and he’s been obsessed ever since.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll handle it, and it will be painless for you.”
“Thanks, girl.”
Travis opened the door to the office noiselessly, as if he’d hoped to catch us in the act of doing or saying something. He kissed me on the forehead as he sat down. The kiss didn’t feel genuine, and Travis seemed agitated.
Vicki finalized some forms and got Travis’s signature on them. Signing the papers had a calming effect on him. I noticed the tension that was on his face melt away like hot butter.
“Well, I guess that does it. We’re finally one flesh,” Travis said joyously.
“We already were.”
“In the spirit realm we were, but now we are on paper. Aren’t you happy about it?”
“Of course I am.”
I was glad that the Lord didn’t strike me down right then and there for lying through my teeth. I didn’t want Travis to be able to get his hands on even a fraction of my wealth.
We walked out of Vicki’s office hand in hand. Travis’s joyfulness was bothering me so much that I was happy he was leaving for the weekend. I was ready to go home and help him pack his bags.
While we were driving home he asked, “Is everything all right, Charmayne?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little tired. I’ve had a long week. One more day and then the weekend.”
“That’s when my work begins,” lamented Travis.
I wondered if he was already growing tired of running his own business. He sure didn’t seem as excited about it as he was in the beginning.
“A little hard work never hurt anyone.”
Travis answered quickly and sharply, “Yeah, well, I’m not going to be working like a dog my whole life.”
Something about the way he looked at me when he made that statement sent a chill through my body. It was as if he blamed me for his hard work and was going to make me pay. His eyes turned dark and ominous as we drove on in silence. I felt troubled in my spirit; something malevolent was brewing in the atmosphere. I prayed silently as Travis drove, Lord, I feel restless in my spirit. I pray that you keep me and protect me. Please give me light for my path. Touch Travis’s heart and spirit . . .
CHAPTER Twenty-six
Past
I felt a tremendous amount of guilt following our meeting with my financial adviser. How could I say that I loved Travis and not be completely honest with him about something so simply meaningless as money? I put myself in his shoes and found that I’d be willing to divorce him for a similar offense. I felt like the tormented murderer in Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.” It seemed that at any moment, my lies would be laid bare and I would lose my dream husband.
My guilt caused me to leave work early. I was going to go home and tell Travis all my deeds, then beg his forgiveness. I’d take him on a ridiculous shopping spree, maybe even a vacation.
On my way home I found myself stopped at a red light directly across from the nursing home where Travis’s mother lived. I felt another pang of guilt. I hadn’t visited my mother-in-law since that first meeting we’d had. I remembered Travis telling me not to stop by without him, but I didn’t see what harm it would cause. Besides, it would be part of my penance for being such a conniving wife.
When I walked through the doors of the nursing home, it was abuzz with activity, quite unlike the day Travis and I visited. It took me a few moments to get the staff nurse’s attention, because she seemed to be doing ten things at once.
Finally she looked up from a stack of papers and asked in an irritated tone, “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes. I’m here to see a patient. Her name is Mrs. Moon.”
The nurse frowned. “We do not have a Mrs. Moon here.”
“Oh, you must be mistaken. She’s my mother-in-law, and I just recently visited her with my husband.”
The nurse, still shaking her head, asked, “Do you know which room she was in?”
I led the nurse down the hallway to the last room on the right. We went into the room, and Mrs. Moon was lying in bed, sleeping peacefully.
I pointed to the woman and said, “This is Mrs. Moon, my mother-in-law. I’d just like to sit with her for a while.”
The nurse replied, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this woman’s name is Bertha Washington.”
“But doesn’t she have a son named Travis?” I asked, feeling confused.
“Mrs. Washington doesn’t have a son, but she does have three daughters who visit her daily. She has a grandson named William, I think, but he’s just a teenager.”
I gasped upon hearing these facts, and ran out of the nursing home with tears streaming down my face. What kind of man was I dealing with who would lie about the identity of his own mother? I was afraid to think about what else Travis could be lying about.
I went home ready to confront Travis, but when I pulled into our driveway, his van was gone. I’d missed him—he was already on his way to Detroit for the weekend. I felt consumed with anger, wondering what he was really doing in Detroit.
Desperately I dialed his cell phone number, and the voice mail came on immediately. A frustrated roar came from my lips. It didn’t even sound like me. I was at my wit’s end and there was nothing I could do but wait.
I picked up the phone again, wondering who I could call for support. I dialed Ebony’s home number, tears still streaming down my face. She answered on the first ring.
“Charmayne?”
“Yes . . . Ebony, I need you to pray with me. Right now.”
Sensing the desperation in my voice, Ebony prayed, “Father, in the name of Jesus, I come to you right now. We’re asking that you restore and renew, Lord. Send your angels in to bring peace, Lord. Right now, O God.”
“Yes, Lord . . . ,” I agreed as my leg shook uncontrollably.
“We ask that you be a fence around Charmayne, dear Lord,” Ebony continued. “Give her strength for this day and the days to follow.
Protect her mind, Jesus, protect her heart. Lord, lead her and guide her. You will be a light to her path, O God. I speak peace into the atmosphere, in the name of Jesus . . . Amen.”
We sat on the telephone, me not saying anything, and Ebony whispering “Jesus” over and over. Her voice calmed me somewhat, even as I felt myself unraveling. I thought back on all the warnings I’d received and ignored. And now the one who had warned me the most was praying for me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ebony asked.
“No, no, no,” I sobbed. “I can’t, Ebony. Just keep praying for me.”
I couldn’t speak Travis’s betrayal out loud, because part of me wanted to believe that it wasn’t happening. I wanted to wake up and realize I’d been dreaming. Then I could continue my fantasy of Travis being the loving husband and me being his respectful wife.
I spent the entire weekend waiting. Travis was set to be home on Sunday afternoon, when I would normally be praising the Lord at Bread of Life. But that Sunday, I had other plans. I wanted to confront Travis without giving him the luxury of preparing himself or finding out what I’d discovered.
I woke up early Sunday morning and drove down the street. I parked my car in the garage of a home for sale, then walked back home. My neighbor Clara watched my actions curiously out of her window. I supposed I looked demented, but I couldn’t stand nosy people.
Back at home, I went into my bedroom and waited. At a little after noon, I heard Travis’s van pull into the driveway. I braced myself for battle. Travis wouldn’t know what hit him.
I sat tensely on the edge of my bed waiting for him to come upstairs, but instead I heard him talking. He was on the telephone. Cautiously, I walked to the bedroom door, so that I could hear him more clearly.
“Look, I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I’m back home.” He had an annoyed tone in his voice. “No. I cannot come back to Detroit! Not until next week . . . Of course I’ll miss you.”
My hands balled into fists and I felt my temperature rise. I wanted to scream. Not another woman! I thought I could handle anything but that. It was going to be more of a battle than I thought.
Farther Than I Meant to Go, Longer Than I Meant to Stay Page 18