The Keepsake (Love at the Crossroads)

by Simmons, Pat

  “Where would you like your husband served, home or work?”

  Pictures of Michael kissing another woman flashed before her eyes. She and Michael had dated for six months before he had proposed, then they were married three years. Months ago, they had discussed starting a family. “Please don’t refer to him as my husband,” Desi corrected.

  “I understand. I apologize. Where would you like the sheriff’s bailiff to serve papers to Mr. Bishop?”

  “At his place of employment.” His employees knew. She was the last to know.

  With the paperwork completed, her attorney was about to wrap up the appointment, but Desi stopped her. “I would like to file one more lawsuit.”

  The attorney lifted her brow. “Against whom?”

  “Brenda Johnson, the mistress.”

  Attorney Rush didn’t blink. “Missouri doesn’t have an alienation of affection clause. We can sue her for ‘criminal conversation’. Do you have a home address or place of employment for Miss Johnson? You will also need proof of the actual sexual intercourse between your hus—Mr. Bishop and her.”

  “Unfortunately, I have it.” She twisted her lips in disgust and handed over the envelope with the snapshots of Michael and the hussy.

  Accepting the package, the attorney scrutinized the evidence. “Well, once these petitions are processed, both of them should be served by the end of the week or Monday at the latest.”

  “Thank you.” Desi stood to leave and so did Attorney Rush.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I can see how grieved you are about this. I can tell you really want to be married. If I can cross the professional line for a moment and say that whatever the Lord allowed the devil to take away from you, God can restore your losses abundantly. ”

  “Thank you,” Desi whispered as a tear fell. She walked out the office. Regrettably, for her and Michael, it was too late.

  ***

  Michael turned the corner into his cul-de-sac. Zachary’s sports car was parked in his driveway. Activating the garage door opener, Michael pulled up beside him and drove into the garage. Zachary was already getting out of his vehicle. Judging from his stiff posture, his brother was highly irritated.

  “Hey.”

  Zachary nodded and followed him into the three bedroom house. Desi had decorated it to her heart’s desire while Michael paid the note and the other bills. This was to have been their dream house to increase their family, but without Desi’s presence, he hated the place. She’d been gone five days. How could he miss one person so badly?

  Entering through the kitchen, Michael dumped his keys and laptop on the counter. His brother folded his arms, leaned against the door and watched his every move. Zachary was patient unless provoked, which could be the case tonight. Too bad, Michael had to eat something. He had been starving himself the past few days. He grabbed a Hungry-Man TV dinner out the freezer and popped it in the microwave. “Want one?”

  “I didn’t come to eat, Mickey. Tell me what’s going on, now.”

  Although his brother was older by three years, Michael, at six-three, had Zachary by two inches. They had similar facial features and interests. Both were entrepreneurs at heart; his brother owned and operated a franchise, while Michael was honing his managerial skills at the retail phone center.

  “I cheated on Desi.” Michael didn’t see Zachary’s fist coming toward his jaw until it was too late to duck. He retaliated with a punch to his brother’s mouth. They wrestled until they practically had each other in a headlock. Loosening his grip, he pushed Zachary away. “What did you do that for?”

  “That was for my sister-in-law.” His nostrils flared. “She deserves better and you promised her that. I was your best man, remember? I expected better of you,” he roared and shook his head.

  “All of us were pulling for you two. Even her older sister and you know how bitter Tracey was after her divorcee with those two small children. She admitted that watching you and Desi made her hope for love again. Then Halcyon kept saying that she was leaving Scott after living with him for I don’t know how long. Then she had a son, and the jerk didn’t even hint at marriage as a possibility. But she told me, you and Desi’s relationship had her re-evaluating whether she should cut her losses with him and wait for the love she saw between you and Desi.” Zachary scowled.

  “Don’t you see, man? We’re the good guys.” He patted his chest. “If Christian men can’t keep their pants zipped, then why profess Christ?” After massaging his mouth, Zachary headed to the bathroom without waiting for an answer.

  Ignoring the tingling in his own jaw, Michael had no comeback as he watched his brother scrutinize his lip in the mirror. Folding his arms, he ignored the microwave’s beep notifying him that his dinner was ready. What little appetite he had was gone—again. His mind was telling him that what he had done in secret was starting to come to the light like a 300-watt bulb.

  Strolling back into the kitchen, Zachary went to the freezer. Instead of going for a dinner, he grabbed a couple of cubes of ice and applied them directly to his mouth. “So, are you still seeing this trash?”

  Michael slumped into a chair. “No. Yes, I lost my mind when I allowed it to first happen, but I did come to my senses and ended it. But it was too late. Desi found out and confronted me.”

  Zachary grunted. “Better Desi, than Tracey. You know her sister has a conceal-and-carry gun permit. She would have shot you. But, I’m still trying to understand why?” He frowned.

  “I’ve asked myself that question so many times.”

  “And?” Zachary prompted.

  “I don’t have an answer.”

  “Well, I hope you didn’t pick up HIV or AIDS and give it to Desi. Let me ask you… Would you have told her if she hadn’t found out?”

  Michael shrugged. “I’d like to think that I would because she is such a forgiving person, but seeing how she walked away without even raising her voice… You know how animated she is. I at least would have been able to tell her everything. When I checked the closets and stuff, it looked like she had already been planning to leave me.”

  “Good for her.” Zachary got up, discarded the melting ice in the sink and rummaged through the freezer before taking out a TV dinner. “Now, from the beginning, tell me how you messed up your life.”

  It was one thing to rehash it in his mind, but to hear himself describe how he had broken his marriage covenant was heartbreaking. So Michael took his time and hit the timer on the microwave to reheat the dinner that was probably cool by now. “About a month ago, this woman came into the store needing assistance with her brand new smartphone. My two other employees couldn’t master the program switch, so they came to me and I did it in record time. The woman thanked me, flirted and left, end of story—or so I thought.”

  Once Michael’s dinner was reheated, Zachary popped his in. “So this was a stranger encounter? You didn’t even know what corner she stepped off of.” His brother didn’t hold back the character assassination until he pulled out his dinner and blessed his food. He shoved a helping of mash potatoes in his mouth and nodded for Michael to continue.

  “She returned a few days later with another problem and wanted me to fix it.”

  “One of my employees can help you. I have to get a bite to eat,” Michael had said, but that didn’t seem to deter her.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you eating close by?” She smiled.

  “When I told her I was headed next door for lunch, she basically invited herself…”

  “Mistake number one.” Zachary smacked his lips and then grimaced in pain.

  Michael glared at him. “Don’t you think I see my hindsight crystal clear now?”

  “I’m just sayin’.” Zachary shrugged and continued to devour his processed meal.

  “Well, during lunch, we didn’t talk about her phone. When she saw my ring, she asked me if I was happily married. I said yes. I should have rebuked the challenge in her
eyes, but I ignored it. I paid for her lunch and we went back into the store and I reprogrammed her phone.”

  “Oh man. You bought her lunch? I won’t even tell you what I’m thinking.”

  “Please don’t. She came again and insisted I allow her to treat me. Again, she asked if I was happily married.”

  “And all this time, what was going through your head?”

  “Honestly, that this woman wasn’t going to try anything because I told her I was happily married.” Michael paused. “I know. The devil was setting me up and I didn’t even know it.”

  “Go on.” Zachary pushed his empty plastic compartmented plate to the side and folded his arms.

  “That same night when I closed up the store, she was waiting for me in her car. I was surprised. I had let the last two employees go on home, so it was just me and her in that semi-dark parking lot. She called my name and when I turned around, she was walking toward me in a tight short dress. Her seduction was in high gear. God kept telling me to resist the devil, but my body parts said no. As she kissed me, I just lost my mind.” Michael stopped there. Was he really talking about himself being that gullible or another fool? “I hope Desi will forgive me.”

  “Me personally, I wouldn’t. So many women think we’re dogs anyway and from what you’ve just told me, you proved it.” Zachary grunted. “Man, I can understand Desi packing up and leaving you. If you weren’t my only sibling, I probably wouldn’t speak to you either.”

  “Thanks,” Michael said sarcastically. “You’re my big brother, so what’s your advice?”

  Zachary stood and gathered his mess. “I don’t have any. You are definitely on your own in this mess. You need to talk to your pastor and/or God because you need some direction on this.” He gathered his keys and headed to the door, then pivoted on his heel before he opened it. “You know what I think?”

  “What?” Michael had shamed God and stopped going to church, so any piece of wisdom his brother wanted to impart, Michael would take it.

  “I think you’ve lost her, man. And I’m really sorry about it.” Zachary walked out, leaving Michael to pick up his own pieces, it appeared, by any means necessary.

  CHAPTER ~3~

  The thought of being suddenly single again had Desi out of sorts. But she wasn’t going to stay in a tainted marriage just to keep the title. Desi felt like a fool believing in Michael. She never doubted his excuses that he had to work on Sundays, because of some big programming change. Michael was probably with her—his mistress. “Clear your head, Desi. What’s done is done. It can’t be changed,” she consoled herself.

  Because of the chaos in her personal life, Desi had let it interfere with her spiritual life. Not up to pleasantries and queries about her husband’s lengthy absence, she had missed church two Sundays in a row.

  Desi would have to get used to the fact that she was separated from her husband until the divorce was final. She twisted her engagement ring and wedding band. She had cherished it since the day Michael slipped it on her finger with such love in his eyes—or so she thought.

  Maybe she should pawn it. Not because she needed the money but it would remind her that, whether it was death or other circumstances, love could be snatched away at any time. In the bathroom, Desi stared at her reflection and wondered what it was about her that Michael was no longer attracted to. Should she grow out her hair? Was it her short haircut? He always said not too many women could pull that off and be sexy.

  “That’s why I love you, because you’re unique,” Michael had whispered often.

  Maybe it was the few pounds and inches she’d picked up, but Michael had said, “You still turn heads, including mine.”

  She frowned. That’s why his affair didn’t make sense. What if it wasn’t the first one? After listening to his few voice messages about how sorry he was and how he had ended it, Desi began to delete them. He disgusted her. It would serve him right if he picked up some sexually transmitted disease. What if the other woman was pregnant? Then he would be a daddy. That thought caused her sorrow. Desi had been the one who wanted to carry his child. She shook her head to erase the questions.

  Desi had to move on and create some normalcy in her life, which meant going back to church. She had already missed the first service, so she had no choice but to attend late morning worship. Soon enough, she was parking her vehicle and crossing the parking lot to the entrance of Rapture Ready Church.

  She made a beeline to the sanctuary to avoid conversation. Once she selected a random pew, she dropped to her knees and prayed for more than thanksgiving that she had entered God’s house. She asked for forgiveness for the times she failed to show up. “Amen.”

  While others praised and worshipped the Lord, she cried out to Him for answers to why? Despite lifting her arms in the air, beseeching Him to speak, Jesus was silent. Too soon the praise team finished the last song; Desi dabbed her eyes.

  Pastor Reed approached the podium, greeted the congregation and welcomed visitors, then he silently prayed before opening his Bible. “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him!” His declaration echoed throughout the sanctuary.

  How God, how can I trust You when You’ve let me down? You didn’t keep my husband from falling. She sniffed.

  “In heartache, I’ll trust Him. In sickness, I’ll trust Him. Job 13:15 says, ‘Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him: but I will maintain mine own ways before Him.’ To trust God means to prosper in your situation.”

  But there is no good thing that can come from a cheating spouse. He did it once, and he’ll do it again, Desi silently argued her point.

  “Sometimes, it seems that everything comes at us at once and overwhelms us,” Pastor Reed recaptured her attention. “God knows your strengths, even if you don’t. He has confidence in your trust in Him and He will deliver you. And He won’t disappoint. It’s not time for you to lose your faith now. Though He slay you, yet will you prosper in your soul because you trust in Him.”

  Desi tried her hardest to connect the dots between “prospering” and “trusting”. She trusted her marriage and that didn’t prosper.

  “Go through, saints, without murmuring, or complaining, or hosting a pity party where the devil is the guest of honor.” Her pastor then began to describe a mental and physical checklist where the devil inflicts hurt on people from the most simplistic to the most complex situations. He must have touched on folks’ shoes, because when he got to their issues, “Amens” rose up. Desi waited to see if he was going to stomp on her toes, so she could jump up with her own amen, but he never did.

  “God has rest for your troubled soul. There is recovery from disappointing relationships…. as I wind down this morning, I want this point to stick. Whatever you’re going through today, it does have an end goal. For Romans 8:18 says, ‘For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.’ If you trust God, you’re guaranteed to prosper in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Prosper? Desi stood and climbed over a family to exit the sanctuary. She was about to have an emotional breakdown, and she needed a hiding place. Desi headed to the ladies’ lounge. The area was dark until the sensors picked up her movement and activated the lights. She went to the back corner of one of the two lounges situated on both sides of the stalls. With her hands covering her face, she released fresh tears. If God was talking to her through the pastor, then Jesus was asking her to commit marital suicide.

  “God, You said in Your Word that I don’t have to stay with a fornicating man. He’s defiled our marriage bed, disrespected our vows and lied to me. I’m so close to hating him, Jesus, his life may be endangered. This cannot be good for my mental health…,” she cried and hiccupped.

  “Sister,” a soft voice calling out to her meant she was no longer alone. “Sister, are you okay?” The cushion beside her shifted as someone rubbed soothing strokes on her back. “What’s your name?”

  “Bishop…Desiree Bishop.” Her voice cracked.<
br />
  “That’s a nice name Sister Bishop. Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not. That’s my husband’s name and he cheated on me!”

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman whispered. “I’m Solae Wyatt-Palmer. I heard you crying when I walked in.”

  All pleasantries were gone as Desi released her pain verbally. “Though He slay me…though He slay me…” She shook her head and sniffed. “I feel like I’ve been dying over and over and over again. Each day, each time I imagine them, it hurts just as bad.” She looked up into the face of a very pretty lady, a younger version of Nia Long. Desi couldn’t help, but glance at her finger—no ring.

  Solae watched her, then shrugged. “Don’t let the hyphenated name fool you. It’s a family tradition. Anyway, I’m on the other end of the marriage spectrum. I may never experience it in my lifetime, because of a total hysterectomy years ago.” She became quiet. “I broke it off with my fire captain boyfriend. He won’t commit because I can’t have children. I love him so much, but I love myself more. He was the third man to reject me because of my infertility and I’m done.”

  “That’s horrible.” Desi felt sorry for the woman.

  “Though the Lord allows these men I meet to slay me, I pray that somehow through it all, I’ll prosper. In your case, at least you have grounds for a divorce and won’t have to live through the torture.”

  Desi nodded. “I’ve started the proceedings, but I didn’t marry expecting to use the opt-out clause.” She sighed heavily in defeat and then snapped. “But I would rather kill him first. My sisters don’t know yet, or Michael would definitely be a dead man.”

  With soothing words, Solae calmed her down, then added, “We’re sisters in Christ. We’re all one body. When one hurts, we all hurt. I’ll definitely call your name before the Lord. Promise.”