Sanctuary Cove

by Rochelle Alers

  She drove back to Sanctuary Cove instead of taking the ferry, which would have made her nauseous. Deborah didn’t want to believe that as a thirty-eight-year-old widowed mother of two teens she was going to start all over again with an infant. When her doctor mentioned she had options, her comeback was that her only option was to give birth to a healthy baby.

  Deborah climbed the stairs to the porch and opened the door. She wanted to get into bed and sleep. When her children came in from school she would tell them that come Thanksgiving they could look forward to a new baby brother or sister.

  Deborah sat on the living room sofa. Whitney was on one side of her, Crystal on the other. “I need to tell you guys something that will change your lives,” she said quietly as she took their hands.

  “Mama, you’re scaring me.” Crystal’s eyes searched hers.

  She squeezed Crystal’s hand. “I don’t mean to frighten you, honey, but you have to know.”

  “Know what, Mom?” Whitney asked.

  “I’m pregnant.” There, she’d said it. The two words Deborah were certain would rock her children’s world.

  “You can’t be,” Whitney retorted.

  “But you’re too old,” Crystal cried.

  “I am and I’m not too old,” Deborah argued softly.

  Crystal eased her hand out her mother’s loose grip. “It’s not Dad’s.”

  “No!” Whitney shouted. “It’s not Dad’s. If it was she wouldn’t have waited this long to tell us.”

  “Then, whose is it, Mom?”

  Deborah sat up straight. “Asa Monroe’s.”

  “Shit!”

  “Whitney!”

  “Where’s your baby daddy?” he sneered.

  “You’re forgetting who you are talking to.” She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to relax. “I understand how you two must feel right now, but please adjust your attitude and watch your language.”

  Whitney didn’t say anything further and neither did Crystal, although she rolled her eyes.

  “I wanted to be honest with you both because this baby will be, is, your brother or sister, and I really need your support on this. You’re my family and I love you.” She smiled. “Besides, I won’t ask you to babysit too often.”

  Whitney managed to look contrite. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, Mom, but it’s April and in four months I’ll be leaving for D.C. You’re going to need someone to look after you.”

  Deborah patted his cheek. “I want you to stop worrying about me, Whit, and take care of yourself. You’re going to live away from home for the first time, and trust me when I say it’s not easy adjusting to living with strangers.”

  Placing a hand over her mother’s flat belly, Crystal leaned into her. “Don’t worry, Mama. You still have me. I’ll help with the cooking and housework.”

  Wrapping an arm around Crystal’s shoulders, Deborah kissed her daughter’s hair. She’d taken her advice and was letting it grow out. “I’m going to pay someone to clean the house and the bookstore. We can take turns cooking.” She kissed her again. “Okay, baby girl?”

  “If you have a girl, then she’ll be baby girl.”

  “No, Chrissie. You will always be my baby girl.”

  “Does Mr. Monroe know about the baby, Mom?” Whitney asked.

  “No.”

  Deborah caught the look Crystal gave her brother as their eyes met. “Are you going to tell him, Mama?”

  “No.”

  Crystal opened her mouth to ask why not when Whitney shook his head, warning her to let it go. “How are you feeling?” she asked instead.

  “I tire easily. That’s why I take naps,” Deborah admitted, smothering a yawn with her hand. “You guys are on your own tonight, because Mama is going upstairs to lie down.”

  Waiting until their mother was seemingly out of earshot, Crystal pulled her legs up under her body and leaned closer to Whitney. “Why won’t she tell him that he’s going to be a dad?”

  “I don’t know, Chrissie. Maybe they had a fight before he left.”

  “Fight or no fight, Mr. Monroe should know about the baby. And it’s up to us to find him.”

  Whitney scratched his chin. “We have his name, he’s a doctor, and his car had a Delaware plate. I’ll go online and see what I can come up with.” He lowered his hand. “If he was Mom’s employee, then she had to have some paperwork on him. Maybe you can go to the bookstore and see if you can find anything.”

  “The store is closed today,” Crystal whispered. “Maybe if I get the key you can drop me off and we can check out her desk.”

  “I have a set of keys to the shop.” Whitney rose, pulling Crystal up with him. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait, Whitney. I’m going to leave a note for Mom to let her know we’re going downtown. She doesn’t have to know exactly where downtown.”

  “Okay, Sherlock. I’ll be outside in the car.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Lilongwe, Malawi

  Dr. Asa Monroe’s step was slow and heavy as his booted feet echoed on the rickety staircase leading to his quarters. He didn’t think he would ever get used to triple-digit heat, the odor of sickness, and the smell of death.

  He’d spent the past two weeks working at a remote village delivering babies, inoculating adults and children, and treating patients with diseases that had been eradicated in the States more than fifty years ago. And he still didn’t have enough anti-venom to treat the snake-bite victims.

  He unlocked the door and the exiting buildup of heat from within caused him to step back as if someone had opened the door to a blast oven. Setting his medical bag and rucksack on the floor, he flipped the switch for the ceiling fans. When he’d moved in there had been only one fan in the one-bedroom apartment, and that was in the bedroom. The next day he’d gone out and bought fans for the living/dining area and the kitchen.

  Asa paid a woman to come and clean the apartment twice a week, although he was rarely there. It was simply his home base, where he picked up his mail and where he’d unwind while waiting for his next assignment. Sitting on a stool, he unlaced his boots, leaving them on the rush mat. Thick cotton socks followed. Within minutes he’d stripped off all his clothes and walked into the bathroom to shower away nearly three weeks of dirt, dust, and grime.

  He brushed his teeth, and then opened the door to the stall, turned on the water, and stood under the spray of tepid water that was akin to rain soaking the dry, parched earth after a prolonged drought.

  It wasn’t until he’d returned to the apartment that Asa realized how bone-tired he was. Sleeping thirty-six consecutive hours still wasn’t going to be enough. He felt every one of his forty-six years of living. Sleeping in a tent, with his hand grasping a high-powered automatic pistol in the event a wild animal would find its way inside, had disrupted his sleep pattern.

  It was ironic how quickly he’d come to think of the apartment as home when home had once been a stately Colonial in a Dover suburb, or the space above the bookstore where he’d made love to Deborah. He’d continued to write her—every day—but had yet to receive a response. Asa had decided to give her until the end of the year and if she didn’t write back then he would let her go—in his head and in his heart.

  Asa never would’ve imagined having to grieve twice in just a year because he’d fallen in love for only the second time in his life.

  Once the water ran clear, he picked up a bar of soap and began lathering his body from head to toe. Although he’d been given a battery of inoculations he still feared succumbing to a parasitic infection.

  He rinsed off, then repeated the ritual until he felt clean. A loud buzzing sound caught his attention, and Asa glanced up to find a large bug against the window screen. The bathroom had been a breeding ground for insects and reptiles before he’d requested the owner of the building replace all the damaged screens. Turning off the water, he stepped out of the stall, slipping his feet into a pair of rubber shower shoes. He smiled. The cle
aning woman had remembered to leave the shoes where he’d instructed.

  It was still so hot that he didn’t need a towel to blot the water from his body. Walking into the bedroom, he sat on the side of the bed and picked up the letters that had been left there. Fanning the envelopes he looked for one with a Sanctuary Cove return address. His heart sank. Deborah still hadn’t written. Falling back on the clean sheets, he supported his head on folded arms and fell asleep.

  Suddenly, Asa jolted awake, totally disoriented. He didn’t know whether it was night or day, or how long he’d slept. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he turned on the lamp, opened the drawer in the bedside table and took out his Netbook. He was thirsty and hungry but he needed to go online and connect with a world beyond the one into which he’d been assigned.

  One of the reasons he’d accepted an apartment in this building was because it was wired for the Internet, and he had excellent cell phone reception. The tiny computer booted up and he was online in no time. There were ten new e-mails. A slight frown furrowed his forehead when he saw one with an e-mail address he didn’t recognize, with the subject line: Urgent.

  He opened it, his gaze scanning it quickly. Asa read it once, twice, and then a third time.

  Dr. Monroe,

  Please call my mother because there is something she needs to tell you.

  Respectfully,

  Whitney L. Robinson

  He glanced at the date of the e-mail. It was almost three weeks old. Rubbing his hands over his bearded face, Asa did something he hadn’t done in more than six months: he prayed.

  Slipping off the bed, he opened a drawer to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and pulled them on. Retrieving his rucksack, he took out his cell phone and turned it on. It was of no use to him in the bush, but he’d tried to keep it charged.

  The time on his computer indicated it was eight o’clock at night. That meant it was one o’clock in the afternoon in South Carolina. Asa scrolled through the phone’s directory and dialed the number to the bookstore. If Deborah was in the store, then she would be alone because it was siesta. It rang three times before there was a connection.

  “The Parlor Bookstore. This is Deborah. How may I help you?”

  “Debs? Asa.”

  “Asa! How are you?”

  “I’m good, but you already know that from my postcards. You did get my postcards, right?”

  “I did, Asa. Every one.”

  “Is… there something you need to tell me, Debs?”

  “Yes, there is something I need to tell you,” she replied quietly.

  “Debs… hello?…”

  “Are you sitting, Asa?”

  “Should I?”

  “Yes.”

  He moved over to a rattan chair with a distinctive kente cloth pattern and sat down. “I’m sitting.”

  “I’m pregnant. With your baby.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you—”

  “I know, Asa. Clearly I was wrong.”

  He was glad Deborah couldn’t see him because his hands and knees were shaking. “Were you going to have my child and not tell me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why, Asa? Because I didn’t want to use this baby to get you to come back to me.”

  Counting slowly to ten, he tried to compose himself. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize. Just don’t do it.”

  “What do you want, Deborah?”

  He heard her breathing through the earpiece. “I want to carry to term and give birth to a healthy baby.”

  Asa smiled for the first time since hearing her voice. “I want that, too. What about your baby’s father?”

  “What… what about you?”

  “Will you allow me to be in your life?”

  “I won’t keep you from the child, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “My God, Debs. How can you say that? This isn’t only about the baby, Debs. It’s about us. I love you. I love you with or without a baby, and if we’re going to be together, then it has to be for each other.”

  “You love me and I love you, but we can’t be together, Asa. You’re so far away. You’re on the other side of the world.”

  “I can apply for a hardship waiver. I’ll probably have to wait for a replacement before I’m able to return to the States, but… I want to marry you, Deborah. I want to try to be a father to Whitney and Crystal and to that precious gift inside you.”

  “Can I give you my answer when you get back?”

  “Of course, but…”

  “We have so much to talk about… nothing to do with the baby… trust, and commitment, and…”

  Asa clutched his chest. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “I’m not trying to give you a hard time, Asa. I’ve decided to take a chance on love, and I don’t want to go through what I did with Louis.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “He left me with his children.”

  “Okay.” The single word was whispered.

  “Can you answer one question for me?” Deborah asked.

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Why did you call me?”

  “One of the kids emailed me.”

  “Please don’t tell me it was Whitney?”

  Asa laughed when he heard her incredulous tone. “Yes, Whitney.”

  “I told him about—”

  “Leave the boy alone, Deborah. He’s only trying to protect you. He won’t have to do that much longer because once I get back that will be my responsibility.”

  “When do you think you’re coming home?”

  “I don’t know, but I hope it’s soon.”

  “Asa?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “I love you.”

  Asa pulled his lip between his teeth, biting until it throbbed like a pulse. “I love you more.” When he finally ended the call he knew he had been given a second chance.

  A second chance at love.

  A second chance to be a husband.

  And a second chance at becoming a father.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Three months later

  Deborah tried to adjust the neckline of her dress in an attempt not to reveal too much cleavage. “I’m spilling out of this,” she said when she saw Asa’s reflection in the full-length mirror. She turned to face her fiancé. “Look at my breasts.”

  Asa angled his head. “They’re like lush fruit.”

  She gave his shoulder a playful slap before staring at the man who, within the hour, would become her husband. He looked incredibly handsome in a tuxedo, white shirt, and Winsor-knotted pearl-gray silk tie. The African sun had darkened his skin to a rich sable-brown.

  When she’d seen him come through the terminal at the airport Deborah had hardly recognized the man she’d fallen in love with. He was bearded and noticeably thinner. Instead of dropping him off at the bookstore, she’d brought him home where he’d showered and then closed the door to her bedroom and slept for twelve straight hours. It had taken almost a month for his appetite to return, and he’d regained six of the twenty pounds he’d lost.

  Once he’d applied for a hardship waiver, it had taken nearly three months for DWB to get a doctor to replace him. But now he’d returned to Sanctuary Cove to live and set up a practice. It would be the first of its kind in the Cove, as residents had relied on midwives to deliver their children and on facilities in Charleston for all other medical emergencies.

  A contractor had begun work to renovate the vacant storefront only doors from The Parlor where he would hang out his shingle for his family practice.

  “The dress is scandalous, Asa. I’m going to faint if Reverend Crawford stares at my breasts instead of my face.”

  He chuckled then, easing her fears. They would marry at the Abundant Life Church, then host a reception under more than a dozen tents along the beach for everyone in the Cove. When Deborah had decided to come home
she never would have imagined she’d love again while continuing the cycle of perpetuating the precious Gullah culture.

  Cradling her to his chest, Asa kissed her forehead. Her hair, brushed off her face, was pinned into a chignon. Miniature roses and baby’s breath had taken the place of a veil. The off-white, empire-waist dress with its seeded-pearl bodice artfully concealed her swollen belly.

  She was in the last month of her second trimester and had only gained fifteen of the twenty pounds recommended by her obstetrician. Although high-risk, her pregnancy to date had been complication-free.

  “Every man in Sanctuary Cove will be looking at you this afternoon,” Asa crooned. “You are just that beautiful. And the best part is, you’ll be coming home with me.” He rested a hand on her belly, feeling the baby’s movements. A sonogram had revealed that he and Deborah were going to have a boy.

  There came a knock on the door and Asa and Deborah found Herman and Pearl Williams outside the bedroom. Pearl’s eyes filled with tears when she saw her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. “Oh, darling, you look beautiful.” Pearl was stunning in a pale gray chiffon gown that flattered her tall, slender body. Her curly hair was more gray than red, and there were tiny lines around her eyes that had come from squinting in the brilliant Florida sunshine.

  Deborah hugged her mother. “Oh, Mom, I am so happy!”

  “Darling, you deserve it.”

  “I feel truly blessed, Mom,” Deborah said as both of them brushed happy tears from their eyes.

  Pearl placed a hand on Asa’s arm, leaning in to press her cheek to his. “I know you’ll take care of my precious babies,” Deborah heard her mother whisper in his ear.

  “That is something you’ll never have to worry about, Pearl. I will take care of and cherish my family.”