He nodded again.
“So, what do you say, we make this happen?” I asked. “If anyone can make this happen for us, he can.”
He seemed rather hesitant. “I don’t know whether I like the thought of someone else getting into our bedroom issues, but I’m willing to give it a go.”
“How soon can we leave?” I asked. “We can make arrangements for us to leave for Paris tonight.”
“That’s… sudden,” David remarked.
“It is,” I replied.
“I guess, this has to be done. I can’t stand a moment longer living like this. Loving you like this.”
So, Paris it was.
We stayed in an apartment in Montmartre. There we learned to love differently and love more deeply.
We arranged for Josiah and Adalia to be in a vacation program while we were busy with Matthieu, then for a sitter to stay with them until we returned home.
Matthieu had long blond hair which he kept up in a ponytail. His green eyes were a shade of emerald, and were warm and kind. His eyes beheld David and I in high esteem from the first meeting. The feel of his hand on mine when he greeted me was electric. He radiated positive energy and love unadulterated. “David has been looking for you for a long time. I’m glad you found him,” he said.
And so began our journey of love, discovery and healing. Paris was an awakening of sorts. David and I connected on a level neither of us had experienced before. As a city, Montmartre had an energy unlike other places, one which enthused us with a new appreciation for life, love and an alignment with tenderness. In Paris we learnt to love, learnt to let go of the past, and learnt to hold on to each other.
Matthieu’s teachings and instructions seemed counterintuitive. “No sexual intimacy unless initiated by him,” he told me. “No discussion about the past unless the discussion is initiated by him.”
We therefore refrained from sexual intimacy, opting to grow closer in other ways. In the place of sexual intimacy, Matthieu advocated increased eye contact, increased conversation, and deeper spiritual and emotional intimacy. He advocated connecting on a subliminal level. He encouraged us both to be laid bare, and to lay our hearts, souls and minds bare before each other.
While David didn’t reveal the details of the trauma he’d experienced at the orphanage, he grew to understand the extent of my love for him and that it was limitless. There was nothing he could reveal that would make me love him less.
At the end of the journey we were burning in desire and deep longing for one another. We knew then it was time to return home, and we did so with a renewed sense of belonging to one another, and a desire to be quenched only by one another.
The return home signalled a return to a different life, one with a heightened awareness of who we were as individuals and what we wanted to be as a couple. A desire was borne within us both, a desire which charged us both with ensuring each other’s happiness and cultivating peace in our hearts and souls.
When we got back, it became apparent that David’s internal wounds had yet to be healed, and that for as long as they remained open, I would feel his pain within myself as if it were my own. The connection we had formed meant he was I and I was he.
“I don’t want you to have to walk through this pain with me,” he told me.
“David, I’m walking through this pain with you, and I’m not letting go of your hand,” I told him. His eyes beheld me with such reverence and endearment it made me cry.
“I knew all those years ago you’d be the one. I wasn’t wrong in waiting for you all those years. You’ll always be the one for me,” he said, embracing me fondly. As Daniel had said, there was a lot of loving to be had between David and I. This was just the beginning.
The safety that our relationship offered meant that for the first time, the extent to which he’d been harmed as a child was brought to the surface, and for the first time, he was able to heal.
“Baby, let’s eat,” I urged, beckoning him to sit down with me at the table. In the weeks that followed Paris, he had become painfully thin, working overtime and beset with worry over what the Royal Commission would reveal. Sleep did not come easy - he had nightmares most nights and would wake up in a cold sweat, memories of the past at the forefront of his mind, causing turmoil in his heart.
I tried to get him to eat. “David, I’ve made your favorite – cornbread and creamy mushroom soup.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of his favourite meals.
“I’ll do this up every night just to get you to eat, shall I?” I asked.
“You do enough sweetheart, more than enough. Don’t trouble yourself with worrying about me,” he replied glumly.
“Asking me to not worry about you is like asking me to not breathe,” I replied. I reached across the table for his hands, and said a short prayer over our food.
“And may we be truly grateful for this food and for all you have given us,” he added. “Amen.”
I watched him take a bite into the cornbread and sigh with reckless abandon. “Heavenly,” he said.
“Good,” I stated, wanting him to eat more.
We ate in silence until he spoke.
“I’m sorry I’ve been keeping you at a distance these last few weeks,” he said, placing his fork and knife down. “I’m struggling to come to terms with something I’ve learnt.”
I felt my heart leap in anticipation. I assumed it was something relating to his past.
Swallowing hard, he stated, “I found out who my biological father is.”
“Oh?” I asked, surprised.
“Um hm,” he replied, clasping his hands in front of him as though he were about to pray. “He’s a minister,” he said. His eyes not leaving mine, he added, “He’s the last person I expected to be related to.”
“Well, if he’s a minister – I guess you have something in common?” I asked.
“That’s one thing. We are otherwise unsimilar,” he insisted.
Unsimilar. I could see he was struggling with something else, something more sinister. Reaching across the table to hold his hand, I asked, “Dave, baby. Please tell me what’s got you so shook up inside.”
After eating a few more morsels of food, he wiped his mouth on the serviette and announced, “Thank you for the food. It’s delicious. I can’t have any more though, I’m stuffed.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied. “Though, you will be stuffed if you keep letting whatever it is that’s bothering you, eat you up inside.”
The corners of his lips formed a smile and he laughed lightly. “Touché,” he replied, remaining tight lipped on whatever it was that had gotten him down.
“You are going to tell me what’s been bringing you down, right?” I probed.
“My father’s a bad man,” he stated. “Evil incarnate,” he said, with such voracity I shuddered. “He’s done terrible things, and I’m ashamed to be related to him,” he managed. “I don’t want him anywhere near you or the children, and I certainly do not wish to be associated with him.”
I pondered on what he’d just said, and I felt great pain and sorrow for him. The father that he’d been looking for for so long was finally known to him. The father who’d played a part in abandoning him as a child. The father who’d literally left him for dead.
David sat there at the dinner table, distraught. Reaching for his hand across the table, I smiled. My smile served the purpose of disarming him, and as a result, he had a puzzled look on his face, what with me smiling at a time like this. I decided to sing the first stanza of Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher Man.
“Aw, baby!” he exclaimed, joyful. “You’re an angel. I guess there’s something good that comes with being the son of a preacher, and being called to Ministry. I’ve managed to convince you that I’m alright.”
“Baby, you’ve always been alright with me,” I confirmed. “Way before you became a minister, you were alright with me. Just took me a while to admit it.”
“Well alright then,” he replied, flashing me a dimpl
ed grin that I hadn’t seen in a while. Despite the joy and healing that he brought others, he’d been sad for a very long time. At least he’s smiling now, I thought, trying to imagine what he must be going through.
“I’m here for you,” I told him. “God’s always been there with you and there for you,” I added.
He nodded in agreement. After a slight pause, he said, “I hit the jackpot when I first laid eyes on you, and now that we’re finally together, I just know we can overcome anything that comes our way. Thank you for loving me, flaws and all. I just wish my past was different.”
“It’s made you who you are. I don’t hold it against you. I’m here for you, the good and the bad, baby,” I told him.
“I can’t describe this in words, but I’ll try,” he started. “The way that I feel - I feel a sense of assurance in me, that no matter what I do, no matter who I turn out to be, God will always have my back. He has always had my back. I look at you, I look at the kids, and know he’s always had my back. Even those times I felt alone, He was there. I may not have felt it at the time, but He was there, guiding me to this life, guiding me to you.” His eyes welling up with tears, he stated, “I’ve found my happiness, and nobody will take this away from me.”
My heart warmed at the mention of our love. I loved him out of the fullness of my heart. He adored me, and had from the start. His love was pure, and wholesome, the only expectation being that I accept him for all that he was, and all that he wanted to be. I didn’t have to be anyone else, and I didn’t have to do anything else for him to love me. Ours was not the love of romance novels or movie screens. Our love was written in the stars and was real. I never knew all those years ago that we would end up here. In love, like this.
A charming, well-dressed man walked into the office that Saturday afternoon. Sandy auburn blond hair, and sea blue eyes, he oozed of charisma. I recognized him as the pastor of Faithbound Church.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted. “Is Pastor David around?”
“He’s just gone out to do a bread run with some of the other guys, I’m expecting him back shortly. Do you mind waiting?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he replied, flashing a perfect set of teeth and dimples in his cheeks.
“Sorry, how rude of me not to make an introduction,” he stated. “I’m Pastor Declan, Faithbound Church.”
“I’m David’s wife, Temwani,” I replied, holding out a hand for him to shake.
“Wonderful to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Does it now?” I asked, half smiling. “Only good things I hope.”
“Only good things,” he replied with a wink and a smile. Though he was charming, there was something disarming and unsettling about him.
“Care for some tea or coffee?” I offered.
“Thank you, but it’s much too hot of an afternoon for tea or coffee,” he said. “I’ll take a cold drink if you’re offering?” The streaks of auburn running through his sandy brown hair stood out.
I thought of the sweet tea in the fridge that David refused to touch, saying it was some kind of sweet. Daniel had loved it.
“How about some sweet tea, water or juice?”
“I’ll try the sweet tea,” he said, touring the room. He stared hard at the family photo on my desk. “Beautiful family,” he noted. “How old are the kids?”
“They’re almost three years old.”
“Lovely,” he replied. “Children are a blessing from God,” he said. “I see your husband’s a bit of a rock star!” he noted.
“That he is,” I said in response. David had quite the following on social media, with women hankering after him left right and centre, but I wasn’t worried about him. I knew where his heart was. His heart had been mine from the start.
Pastor Declan smiled in response. He continued staring at the photos on the wall. Motioning at a photo of Daniel he asked, “His late brother?”
“Yes,” I replied, a little uneasy about how much he knew about my family.
“My condolences,” he added. “It must not have been easy to lose him so young,” he said, with sadness that surprised me.
“No,” I replied. “David’s support meant everything though.”
Awkward silence ensured before I asked, “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
Pastor Declan appeared to think carefully before he replied. “I’m here to talk to David.”
David rushed into the room in a mood. Startled by Declan’s presence, he asked, “What do you want?” I was a little shocked by his tone and his unexpected reaction. His behaviour felt a little untoward.
Pastor Declan stood up to greet him. “That’s no way to greet your old man.”
Old man? I thought. David and Daniel’s father?
“Get out!” David commanded.
“I’ve come to see you, son. I see how well you’ve done for yourself. Welcome home,” Declan said.
I saw the color leave David’s face.
Approaching him, and placing a hand on his shoulder, Declan announced, “Sorry I stayed away for so long, son. Welcome home.”
David abruptly stepped away from him. “You have some nerve coming here.”
“David, I know who I am and I know who you are. I knew Jolène, I knew your mother. I loved your mother. I’m your father. It’s time you realise we’re family. You, me, your lovely wife here and kids. Welcome home, son.”
“You might’ve loved my mother, but pity you didn’t love me. Leave,” David ordered. “Get out and leave.”
Declan smiled awkwardly in response. “I’ll be seeing you.”
David turned to me after Declan walked out.
“So, that’s your father?” I asked.
“Don’t. I don’t want anything to do with him. I’m ashamed to be related to him,” he said adamantly.
“Surely he’s not that bad, he’s a pastor now…”
“He’s always been a pastor!” David exclaimed.
“David…”
“Don’t,” he cautioned. “Don’t try and convince me otherwise. Don’t try and look at his good side. There isn’t one. This man is pure evil.”
A chill ran down my spine at his mention of the word evil.
“Please,” David begged. “I’m just looking out for our family. I have plans for us that don’t involve him. Please honour my wishes.”
I faced him directly and gave him a warm, strong embrace. “I submit to whatever plans you may have for us as a family. I trust you. I know that amidst all the confusion in our lives, the love you have for us is driving you.”
His face lit up. “I truly struck gold with you,” he replied, planting a kiss on my forehead and embracing me with equal force. “I can overcome anything with you and God by my side.”
30
THE FIRE
In the days and weeks that ensued, Declan constantly and consistently tried to contact David, while David ignored him and refused his requests. At one stage, Declan even came to our house, and requested to see the children. David was livid, and promised to file a restraint order against him. This was all talk. It didn’t happen.
Otherwise, he threw himself into his ministry. Overnight, David became a superstar of sorts in the church. He preached with such fire, and such passion, that the church of 40 soon grew to a church of 200. Not long after, we were fighting for space and wanting to host sermons in a different location.
We celebrated his success one night by going out for dinner and a show at the local theatre. Four years ago I couldn’t have imagined myself being happy with anyone other than Daniel. Now, David took love to the next level, and when I was with him, I was overjoyed.
As we walked out of the theatre, the evening air was chill yet moist. David put his arm around my waist as we walked past the crowd, and past the bustle of the city. Our slate grey RX-7 was parked quite a distance away, so we walked the scenic route, past the shops that were adorned in Christmas decorations and lights. Walking the same stre
ets many years ago, I’d felt fear and rushed through to get to the other side. Walking the same streets now with David, I felt secure, at ease, confident about the future, simply because he was in it.
David held the car door open and waited for me to get in. He stole a kiss from me before I did. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he declared. “You’re absolutely beautiful, you’re a dream,” he said. “Let’s hit the road, and we can get to being alone together.”
I smiled in response, settling into the car, and waiting for him to get in. As we drove the brightly lit streets and onto the Southern Outlet, we were filled with Christmas cheer. Another year, this time, together. Our first Christmas as a married couple.
I heard the truck before I saw it ploughing into our car. I felt a scream rise in my throat, but it did not eventuate. David kept his hands on the steering wheel, trying to readjust to stop from going off road. The truck seemed to accelerate as he did so, pushing the RX-7 off road. A loose log that came off the back of the truck shattered the glass on David’s side and he let go of the steering wheel in shock. Shards of glass pelted his arm.
“Lord help us!” I said under my breath as the car started spinning. I felt my head rolling with the motion. David used his other arm to push me back against the seat. The car continued to spin out of control until it came to a sudden halt. We’d hit a tree. My world blackened out for a moment. When I came to, the paramedics were there, disengaging David from his seat, putting him on a stretcher and whisking him to the hospital. They tended to me too, but I was in a better shape than David was. I shook and cried inconsolably. I didn’t want to face losing him too.
David came to once we were in the hospital. The doctor spoke with him firmly. “David, you’ve lost a lot of blood…and your blood type is rare. We’re not in a position to get the amount you need right now, but we’ll ring around our local blood banks and hopefully we’ll strike gold. But for now, we need to sit tight and wait.”
Over the next hour or so, David drifted in and out of sleep, barely conscious. Apart from a few head nods, he did not speak. He tried to, but motioned to me that his chest hurt. I sat by his side, holding his hand.
My Dusk My Dawn Page 47