Anointed (Urban Books)

by Patricia Haley

  “Could you please connect me with the suite of Dave Mitchell,” she said, balancing the phone between her earlobe and shoulder while stepping into her pumps. Madeline fumbled with the other shoe, waiting for Dave to answer.

  “Hello,” came across the line.

  Madeline froze. “Who is this?”

  “Sherry, why who is this?”

  “Sherry, what the heck are you doing answering Dave’s phone in his hotel room?” She dropped the shoe onto the floor as her hand shook.

  “This isn’t Dave’s room. This is my suite.”

  “Oh really, and you expect me to believe that? Since when did your DMI check get big enough to cover a suite at the Westin?” Madeline wanted to implode but reined in her total rage. She wasn’t going to let Sherry knowingly have the upper hand. “You tell Dave that I’m on my way to the hotel, and I better not see you there.”

  “Whatever, Madeline,” she said and hung up.

  It was confirmed. Dave had officially lost his mind. Good for him that Sherry hadn’t answered before now, or their children would have never gone to that hotel. Madeline had to cool down or she’d surely blow a fuse. She grabbed her keys and ran to the garage. He hadn’t heard the last from her.

  She cut the thirty-minute drive to just over twenty. Thank goodness Detroit highways were made to handle seventy-five and eighty mile-an-hour drivers with ease. Slower drivers were in danger with her on the road this morning. She wheeled into the valet and handed over her keys, giving them Dave’s name and room number for the charge. Madeline walked hurriedly to the desk.

  “I’m here to see Dave Mitchell. He’s in the penthouse suite.”

  “Yes, of course, and you are?”

  “Mrs. Dave Mitchell.”

  “Yes, I see that he has given approval to let you up. Go through the double doors, near the end of the hallway, to the private bank of elevators. There will be a gentleman there to assist you.”

  Madeline thanked him and got on her way. Upstairs, she rang the bell, ready to have it out with Mr. Dave. He’d embarrassed her for the last time.

  “Come in,” Dave said, opening the door and taking a step to the side.

  Madeline bolted in. “What are you doing, Dave? You’re an old man who knows better. Tell me, what are you doing here?”

  “Don’t you remember? You kicked me out. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Don’t get coy with me,” she said, flinging her purse onto the living room sofa after entering the open area. “You have the nerve to move Sherry in here with you.” Dave pursed his lips. “So, it’s true? She’s here.”

  “She’s not in my suite, but Sherry is at the hotel.”

  “When did she start getting paid enough to stay here?” Dave pursed his lips again. “Don’t bother answering, I get the picture.” Madeline folded her arms. “And when were you planning on telling me? Oh, that’s right, silly me. I’m the wife, the last to know.”

  “It’s not what you think. The doctor put her on bed rest for the remaining of the pregnancy. I couldn’t leave her in the apartment alone.”

  “You could have and you should have.”

  “Regardless of how this happened, I’m responsible for this baby. I have to do the right thing.”

  “The right thing was keeping your behind at home and out of her bed. The right thing would have been to fire her when I asked you to. The right thing would have been to win me and the children back. So, don’t talk about doing the right thing because you have not done right by me.”

  “I’m sorry you feel this way.”

  “What did you think? You thought I’d accept you and Sherry living together because her adulterous pregnancy is in trouble? Humph, you have the wrong person if that’s what you thought.” She grunted again.

  “We’re not living together, Madeline.”

  The phone rang.

  “Might as well be. You’re a few doors or floors apart. Can’t get much closer without people talking.”

  Dave let Madeline finish and then excused himself to get the phone. Madeline heard voices but no one entered the room. She went to the hallway where Dave had gone to get the phone and overheard him talking.

  “Don’t worry. You’re not in this alone. I’m here. Don’t stress yourself or the baby. I’m calling the ambulance and then I’ll come right down.”

  Madeline stepped away so Dave didn’t know she’d heard. When he returned, she acted unaware, although her soul was bleeding. Hearing him comfort Sherry was a knife slicing at her core, but pride held her together in his presence.

  “I’m sorry, but we have to talk later. I can meet wherever you want, but I have an emergency,” he said, walking fast and talking.

  She could have delayed him, asked questions, or made him confirm what she already knew. She chose not to do anything. Her pain was too deep to mask, seeing Dave show devotion to another woman and their child.

  “Madeline,” Dave stopped and said, “I’m sorry.”

  After he left, she stood in the hallway, alone and empty. She lingered in the suite long after Dave was gone, reflecting. She was sorry too, sensing in her spirit that the chapter on their marriage had closed at the precise moment when Dave turned the handle and walked into his life with Sherry and their baby. Her heart and soul wept in unison over the loss.

  Chapter 67

  Dave trailed the ambulance in his car, arriving fifteen minutes after Sherry had gotten to the hospital. He rushed to the emergency room admission desk. “I’m looking for Sherry Henderson.”

  The nurse checked the monitor. “Are you a family member?”

  “Yes, I guess I am,” he said, convincing enough for the nurse to direct him to exam room number four. He thanked her and hurried to find the room down the hall. “Sherry,” he called out, entering the room and seeing her lying on a gurney. She had a series of cables linked to her and several monitors. Her moans carried into the hallway.

  “Dave, it hurts so badly,” she said, extremely emotional. She reached for him as he entered. He didn’t want to get in a compromising situation again, but the main purpose for being in the hospital was to provide the support she wanted. He came close to rub her forehead. His touch seemed to quiet her.

  The doctor entered but his body language didn’t sit well with Dave.

  “Miss Henderson, are you still in pain?”

  “Yes,” she said, trying to talk while crying.

  “I’m going to take a look,” the doctor said, grabbing a pair of gloves.

  “I’ll leave,” Dave told Sherry.

  “Don’t go,” she told him as the doctor asked Sherry to place her legs in the stirrups. Dave stayed, careful not to get in the way. Silently he prayed to God that the baby and Sherry would be healthy and well.

  A nurse entered and closed the door behind her. Dave didn’t watch the actual exam, but he couldn’t elude Sherry’s moaning.

  Dave didn’t need a medical degree to read the look of concern on the doctor’s face as he completed the exam.

  “Can you get the neonatal unit down here?”

  “What’s going on?” Sherry cried out.

  “Your cervix is dilating.”

  “But it’s too soon,” she said frantically.

  “I’ll attempt to slow the contractions down, but my concern is that the baby appears to be in distress.”

  “Is my baby going to be all right?” she pleaded.

  “We’ll do everything we can.”

  “Oh,” she wailed, pressing into her belly.

  Several other medical people squeezed into the room. Dave was buried in the back. They talked among themselves, pressing buttons, reading charts, and talking with Sherry.

  “Sherry, we don’t have a choice. You’re going to have to deliver the baby today,” the doctor told her.

  “I can’t. It’s way too soon. My baby won’t survive if it’s born this early. I can’t do it.”

  “You have no choice. The baby’s heart rate is dropping and has to be delivered now.”
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br />   A nurse popped her head in and said, “We’re going into operating room nine. They’re prepping for the cesarean.” A flurry of movement kicked off. They wheeled Sherry out of the room in a swoop.

  Dave twirled his wedding ring without noticing. The nurse saw him and said, “Mr. Henderson, there’s a waiting area on the second floor near the operating rooms. You can wait there. The doctor will come out and give you an update on her condition as soon as he can. Why don’t you go on up,” she said, winding the cord attached to the fetal monitor. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

  Maybe, but he knew of a place where he was guaranteed to find comfort. “Where’s the chapel?” The nurse told him, and Dave ran to the Lord. It was the only help he knew that could move mountains and calm the troubled heart of a baby. There was no machine, surgery, or physician on earth more equipped to perform a miracle than His God. Dave called out to his Father, believing for more than he deserved.

  Dave entered the chapel, approached the makeshift altar, and fell to his knees. “Father, it’s me, your sinful son, the one who has failed you time and time again. The one who is not worthy to call you Father, but by your grace I call you Daddy. I call you the great I am. I call you the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. I call you Jehovah Rapha, my baby’s healer. I ask for your mighty touch on the tiny body of my newborn child. Let the baby live so that it can grow up knowing you as his Savior and giving glory to your name. I ask for your mercy, Lord. Let my child live,” Dave pleaded, burying his face into his hands and howling. He lay stretched out on the floor, not caring if anyone came into the room and found him wailing at the altar. He had nowhere else to go but to God. “Father, let your will be done.” After a short while, Dave rose to his feet, relieved. It was finished for him. He made his appeal going as far as he could. The next move was on God.

  He returned to the waiting room renewed. The doctor must have been searching for him, because he came over immediately. “Mr. Henderson.”

  “It’s actually Mitchell, Dave Mitchell,” he interjected, no longer bound by speculations.

  “I’m so sorry. Mr. Mitchell, Sherry delivered the baby. It was a boy, but we couldn’t save him. He was stillborn.”

  Dave digested the unsettling news. “Okay, thanks,” he replied, completely composed.

  “She’s been calling for you. If you’d like to see her, go to the end of the hallway, make a left, and ask someone at the nurse’s station to direct you to her recovery room. She will be moved to a room upstairs shortly.”

  Dave extended his hand. “Thank you, Doctor, for what you did. It’s appreciated.”

  “Well, sir, under the circumstances, I wish there was more that I could have done. Unfortunately this was out of our control.”

  But it wasn’t out of God’s, Dave affirmed. He found his way to the nurse’s station. Before getting there, he leaned against the wall and wept openly. He dried his eyes and reclaimed composure. God had spoken. Those were the only tears he’d shed.

  He went to Sherry. She wasn’t as composed. Devastated, she rambled on, calming minimally when he entered her room.

  “I lost our baby, Dave,” she said hysterically. “I lost our baby.”

  They tried calming her unsuccessfully. She held tight to her grief. The medical team decided to sedate her, giving Sherry a chance to rest and regain her strength.

  She dozed off to sleep, and Dave went to a pay phone in the lobby. He called Frank.

  “I’m at the hospital with Sherry.”

  “Is she having the baby?”

  “Actually, she already had it, and the baby died.”

  “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” He paused. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “If you could please sit in on a meeting for me this afternoon, it would free me up to stay here the rest of the afternoon with Sherry. She’s not doing well.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Let me run. Sherry might wake up and I don’t want her to feel alone.”

  “Hey, Dave, I hate to say this, but losing the baby might be a blessing in disguise.”

  “How?”

  “At least this way you and Madeline won’t have Sherry’s baby standing between you. If you want your marriage, this might be the break you need.”

  Dave didn’t respond. He didn’t see the death of his son as a blessing or a punishment. It was God’s will and no further explanation was required.

  Chapter 68

  Madeline had slowly made her way home, oblivious to the surroundings. In the house, she meandered aimlessly, without motivation.

  Tamara was getting ready for school. “Mommy, what am I going to wear?” she asked, finding Madeline in the master bedroom.

  “Darling, you can wear whatever you want today.”

  “But I can’t choose. I need your help.”

  Madeline couldn’t help Tamara, because she couldn’t help herself. “Please, Tamara,” she said, about to yell at her daughter but caught it in time to pipe down her tone. She told her to ask Ms. Jenkins for help.

  “Okay,” the little girl said, stomping from the room. Madeline let her go, unable to comfort her. She stretched out across the bed, pulling the pillow over her head in hopes that sleep would whisk in and rescue her.

  “Mom, Mom,” she heard, awakening to see Sam standing near the bed.

  She jumped up. “What’s wrong? What are you doing home so early from school? Did something happen to you?” she asked hastily, grabbing his arms and checking him over.

  “Mom, it’s after four o’clock. We’ve been home over an hour. I’ve already done my math and vocabulary and most of my science, but I need help with the last two questions,” he said calmly.

  Madeline searched frantically for a clock to confirm the time. She couldn’t have slept the afternoon away. Locating the clock on her nightstand, it said she definitely had. Sam continued talking but she didn’t hear anymore.

  Dinner, homework, and the typical chaos came and went, too, with Madeline remaining out of sorts well into the evening. “It’s time to get ready for bed,” she told her children.

  “Not for us, it’s only eight o’clock, and we get to stay up until nine,” Sam reminded her.

  “Tonight everybody is going to bed at eight.” The faster they got to bed, the sooner she could get back to sleep. It was the only place she seemed to steal away from Dave and the divorce. She hurried the children along, despite protest from the older boys. “Let’s go,” she said, tucking each child into his or her bed and kissing them good night.

  Finally, they were down and she’d be next. She stood outside Sam and Andre’s room, realizing the nights when their father would poke his head in to see them were no more. Her heart shattered.

  She humbly returned to her bed, with images of Dave and Sherry bombarding her. She couldn’t hide. There was nowhere to run from the surreal pain of Sherry’s pregnancy and Dave’s concern for his other family. Her marriage was over. Madeline tried shoving the pain away, but it wasn’t budging. She began sobbing uncontrollably, drawing her knees into the fetal position.

  Tears kept gushing. In the midst of her cry, it sounded like a thud came from outside the door, causing her to sit up. She quietly waited to see if the noise repeated. It didn’t but she went to the door anyway, after being overcome with curiosity.

  Don was sitting by her door, clutching his blanket and bawling.

  She instinctively set aside her needs and comforted her son. “What’s wrong, Don?” she asked, falling to the floor and drawing him close, letting his head rest against her chest.

  “I had a bad dream, Mommy.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you come in?” He seemed afraid. “Don, Mommy is here now. You’re safe,” she said, hugging him tighter.

  He seemed to relax. “I wanted to come in your room, but I heard you crying, Mommy, and it made me sad,” he said, ready to cry again.

  She lightly pressed her hand against his head, keeping him close until his
fear was gone. She waited patiently until he seemed ready to go back to his room. She tucked him in once more. This time he was asleep before she reached the threshold. Madeline went to her room. She was more cautious this time, closing the door behind her. Madeline turned up the TV volume in her room so she could cry without disturbing or frightening the children. She had to suffer. It was inevitable, but she’d see to it that her children didn’t.

  Chapter 69

  Sherry’s eyelids slowly opened. For a few seconds she felt anxious and unable to figure out where she was. Desperately searching the room for any sign of familiarity, she caught a glimpse of Dave slumped over in a corner chair. She breathed easier and called out to him as the hospital room came into focus. He must not have heard her. “Dave,” she softly called again.

  “Yes, what,” he said, startled from his sleep.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  Dave tried reading the face of his watch but it appeared difficult for him. It was somewhat dark in the room. So she reached for the light button and winced in pain. Not as much pain as she’d expressed at the hotel, but discomfort for sure.

  Dave jumped up. “Hold on, let me get that for you.” He came around to the side of the bed closest to her and reached for the controller tucked next to her leg. He found the light button and turned it on. Glaring at his watch he told her, “It’s ten-fifteen.”

  She was surprised. The day had gone. “When did I fall asleep?”

  “Right after the surgery.”

  As soon as he said “surgery,” a tsunami of emotions and aches gushed in, overtaking her. Events of the day were fuzzy, as if it had been a dream. The only fact she could recall was having a baby. “I know it’s late, but I want to see my baby.” Dave gently laid the controller next to her leg. He stared at her without speaking, displaying a funny expression. He was taking too long for her. Sherry wanted her baby. “Dave,” she said more forcefully, “I’d like to see my baby. Can you get the nurse for me please?”

  “Sherry, the boy died.”

  “What, no, I want my baby,” she said, becoming agitated and confused. “Get the nurse,” she said, fumbling with the buttons on her remote, pushing practically every one, determined to get help. She must have hit the right one because a nurse entered the room.