“I’m sorry if I was out of line,” Dr. Washington apologized. “I just wanted you to be aware of all your options, and to keep an open mind where you husband is concerned. Men are proud, and though there are a many who would accept children by other men, I’m just not sure how your husband would react under the circumstances.”
“Your apology is accepted, and I understand what you’re saying, Dr. Washington. But I know what God told me, and I have never given up hope that one day I would have Marcus’s son or daughter,” Monet said fervently. She put the strap of her purse on her shoulder.
“Okay then. On your way out, I’d like you to make an appointment with me for a month from now, and we’ll see how you’re doing and feeling. Monet, don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. I have to respect your feelings, so accept my congratulations.” Dr. Washington tried to interject some gaiety into her voice and smile at Monet, but her efforts weren’t quite successful.
“Thank you. I’ll make the appointment, and believe me, I’ll be fine,” Monet said even as butterflies darted inside her stomach. Though she spoke with an air of bravado, she wasn’t sure what Marcus would think. She prayed he would be as excited and joyful as she was, but knew there was a chance he might accept the news like Dr. Washington predicted.
Monet and Dr. Washington said good-bye, and Monet left the doctor’s office. She went to the nurse’s station and made an appointment for the second week in January. There was a bounce in her step as she walked to the elevator, and then to the parking lot to her car. Monet sat in her car for a moment, trying to rein in her thoughts. The couple had always planned to name their child Faith, if the Lord saw fit to bless their union with a daughter.
She bowed her head, and said aloud, “Lord, thank you for giving me my daughter, Faith. It seems like a lifetime ago when Marcus and I said we’d name our first daughter Faith Imani. I couldn’t tell Dr. Washington that when Marcus rejected my idea to adopt, you told me that I would have a daughter and that I had to be patient. I suffered from what I call the Sarah Syndrome, and I believe with you, God, all things are possible. Father, I don’t know how Marcus is going to react to the news, but I pray he will trust and believe in you. God, again, thank you for my miracle, Faith Imani Caldwell.” She closed her eyes and listened to God tell her to be strong for the times that lay ahead, and how she would be blessed. Peace inundated Monet’s being. And she knew in that instant that her belief and instincts were correct . . . Marcus was Faith’s father; she had no reason to doubt that.
As she turned on the car, a satisfied grin split her face. When she stopped at the booth to pay her parking fee, the attendant looked at her and said, “You must have gotten some good news. You are positively glowing.”
“Yes, the best news in the world. I’m going to be a mother,” Monet said, preening prettily. She handed the woman her parking ticket and a five dollar bill.
“Well, congratulations. I wish you the best. What do you want, a girl or boy?” The attendant handed Monet the change.
“I’m having a girl,” Monet said, and put the two dollar bills into her wallet.
“Well good for you. I wish you the best.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you next time.” Monet drove out of the lot and headed south to her home.
She had to concentrate hard on driving because her mind kept wandering to the long awaited news Dr. Washington had given her. She was going to be a mother.
She parked her car in the garage. When she opened the backdoor, Mitzi greeted her at the door, wagging her tail rapidly. Monet picked up her pet and hugged her. “How’s Momma’s baby?” She fussed over her baby, while Mitzi licked her face. She put Mitzi down on the floor.
Monet walked to the foyer and took out a hanger and hung up her coat. Then she returned to the kitchen and put water in Mitzi’s dish. Satisfied that her pet was taken care of, she walked into her office located near the kitchen area. The den had been made into an office for Monet, and the basement was Marcus’s domain. The walls in the room were painted a soft beige hue, and Monet collected fabric African murals in earth tone colors, which covered two walls. In addition to the murals, many African and Native American statues were situated on wood shelves, along with a top of the line computer on a glass desk. A flat screen television was mounted on another wall. Beige carpeting complemented a burnt orange sofa with a matching wingback chair. An antique table was positioned in front of the sofa, and there was a wood burning fireplace on another wall.
Monet sat on the sofa, kicked off her shoes, and curled her legs underneath her body. She stroked her tummy. “Hello, Faith,” she whispered, “this is your mommy speaking. I’m so glad that God gave you to me. I can hardly wait to see your beautiful face. We have a lot to talk about, and we don’t have to wait until you make your arrival. I have a lot to tell you.”
She bit her fingernails. Though she had put on a brave face for Dr. Washington, reality had set in, and doubts about the baby’s paternity, due to her fear of Marcus’s reaction, clouded Monet’s mind.
What if Marcus doesn’t believe that Faith is his baby and leaves me? There is no way he’d raise the child of a rapist. Oh Lord, I wish my momma was here. She would hold me in her arms and tell me that everything is going to be okay. Lord, give me strength to face Marcus, and help me to convince him that Faith is his baby. Show me the way, Lord.
Monet picked up her Bible from the table. She could hear her mother’s voice in her mind saying, “Baby, take your burdens to the Lord, and He’ll work them out.” She opened the Bible to a random page, intent on seeing where the Spirit would lead her. As she read, she felt fortified in her belief. The scripture was just what she needed, like a dose of medicine.
She had opened the Bible to Philippians 4:4. Her fingers traced the words as she silently read, Rejoice in the Lord always; and again I say, Rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise think on these things. Those things which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do; and the God of peace shall be with you.
When Monet finished reading the scripture, she held her hands over her face and began sobbing, a cleansing cry, and she read the passage over and over because it brought peace to her very being. She curled up on the sofa with her hands cradled protectively over her abdomen, and within minutes she fell asleep; dreaming about a caramel colored baby girl with her mother’s eyes and her father’s dark hair.
Mitzi licked Monet’s hand, which had fallen off the couch and dangled near the floor. When Monet sat up, her stomach felt queasy. She rushed to the bathroom just in time to avoid making a mess on the floor that she would have hated to clean up. She returned to the kitchen, with Mitzi trotting behind her.
“Thank you for waking me up,” she told the dog. “Now I can prepare Daddy’s favorite meal and share the good news with him.”
The dog sashayed across the floor and laid on her doggy bed, playing with a rubber toy, while Monet opened the refrigerator and cabinets in search of the perfect food for the soul. She had cooked a full course meal nearly every day since she’d been off work. Marcus loved her being home. She decided to prepare broiled steaks, and a steamed broccoli and cauliflower blend, along with twice baked potatoes and a Caesar salad. She thought a strawberry cheesecake for dessert would cap off the meal. She set the ingredients on the countertop, and then walked down to the basement.
Marcus and Monet were not heavy drinkers, but enjoyed a glass of champagne on New Year’s Eve and wine to celebrate their birthdays. In the summer, Marcus indulged in a few beers. Monet wa
lked over to the wine rack and removed a bottle of sparkling cider. She thought her news called for a celebration. When she returned upstairs, Monet put the cider in the refrigerator to chill.
Before long, appetizing aromas filled the kitchen as Monet completed her chore. She glanced at the apple shaped clock on the wall above the microwave. Marcus would be home in about twenty minutes. She hurriedly put the dishes and utensils she had used in the dishwasher. While the cheesecake was chilling in the refrigerator, and the steaks were set low in the oven, Monet rushed upstairs to take a shower.
She had just finished dressing in a gold lounging outfit, and was pulling at her hair when she heard the garage door closing, signaling Marcus had arrived home from work. Monet hurriedly put the back of a gold stud on the back of her earlobe, and then she sprayed Tresor over her body. She lined her lips with chocolate colored lipstick and dashed downstairs.
She paused on the stairway, watching Marcus stand in the foyer, sorting through the mail. Lord, please make it all right. I beg that you put understanding in Marcus’s heart. Father, I don’t want to have to choose between him and our baby, Monet silently prayed.
Marcus looked up and saw Monet staring at him. He smiled and then winked at his wife and said, “What’s up, pretty lady? How was your day? You look beautiful.”
Monet wiped her perspiring hands on the side of her pants and tried to keep her body from trembling. She returned Marcus’s smile and blew him a kiss. “Thank you, honey. I had a fantastic day. I can hardly wait to tell you about it.”
Chapter 9
Monet walked down the few remaining stairs and into the foyer. Marcus held out his arms, and she walked into them and stood on her toes. Marcus kissed her passionately. The couple shared their first real kiss in months.
Then she pulled away from him breathlessly, looked up at him and asked, “How are you doing, handsome?”
“Not bad.” He inhaled the scent of her hair, and the strands tickled his nose. “Um, you smell good. How did your doctor’s appointment go?” He leaned away from her and peered down. “Is everything okay?”
“Just fine.” Monet burrowed into Marcus’s body. Then she looked up at him. “I’ve fixed your favorite meal, along with my favorite vegetables. Darn it, I need to check on the steaks.” She scurried into the kitchen.
Marcus took off his jacket and hung it in the closet. Then he walked into the dining room. Monet had set out their best China and crystal glassware. Two chocolate colored tapers burned brightly in the eggshell white room.
“Aw sukey now, we’re having a candlelight dinner. This must be a special occasion.” Marcus’s nose twitched as he rubbed his hands together. “I smell steaks. Thank you, babe.”
Monet walked over to Marcus. “I have some wonderful news that I’d like to share with you at dinner.”
He pulled her into his arms, and for once, she didn’t flinch from his touch. “I love you, Nay-Nay. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Now give me a few minutes to shower. You’re looking fine and smelling good; I don’t want to be half-stepping. I’ve got to keep up with my baby.”
Monet nodded. “Make it quick. By the time you finish, I should have dinner on the table. Now go.” She shooed him away with love in her eyes. Marcus looked at her, and his eyes reflected the depth of his feelings for her.
“I’ll be back before you can say abracadabra,” Marcus joked, and jogged up the stairs.
Monet went back into the kitchen and put the vegetables inside a bowl. She removed a silver platter from the bottom cabinet, and forked the steaks, topped with onions and mushrooms, into it.
Then she took the food and walked into the dining room and set everything on the mahogany table built for twelve. Monet smoothed down a corner of the manila lace tablecloth that had belonged to her mother, Gayvelle. She put the ice bucket with the bottle of sparkling cider on the matching buffet. She had purchased a bunch of lilies on her way home from her doctor’s appointment, and they added a beautiful touch to the table.
It didn’t take Marcus long to return to the dining room. He sat across the table from Monet, looking handsome in a pair of dark slacks and a pumpkin colored pullover sweater. She had dimmed the overhead lights and lit the candles. She picked up the remote in front of her plate and turned on the portable stereo, which was tuned to Marcus’s favorite jazz station. She turned the volume down low.
She looked at Marcus and asked, “Would you bless the food?”
“It would be my pleasure. Though I don’t know why you’re sitting all the way down there. Why don’t you come sit next to me?” He patted the empty chair next to him. Intense love radiated from his eyes.
Monet picked up her plate and relocated to the chair next to her husband.
Marcus took Monet’s right hand in his own, kissed it, and then the couple bowed their heads. “Father, bless the food we are about to receive for the nourishment of our bodies, and double bless the cook. Lord, we’ve faced some tough times recently, and you’ve brought us intact from the storm. Continue to bless me and Monet. Amen.”
“Amen,” Monet echoed, and then put her napkin in her lap.
Marcus put a steak on his plate and then the other one on Monet’s. They passed the bowls back and forth until their plates were full of food. Marcus dominated the conversation about his workday, but didn’t mention that Monet’s father had called. He had put out some feelers before he left work and was waiting on some responses.
“I’ll be doing some surveillance work next week. There have been reports of a chop shop operating on the southwest side of the city, so the chief assigned me and Wade to the case. He believes in the detectives being cross-trained and rotates the personnel monthly. How did your doctor’s appointment go?” Marcus asked.
She averted her eyes and asked evasively, “Do you want coffee? I forgot to bring it in here. I’ll go to the kitchen and get it.” Monet started to stand up.
Marcus stopped her. “No, I’m good. I’ve been dominating the conversation. Tell me about your day.” He cut a piece of cheesecake with his fork, and was chewing it as he watched Monet. He sensed she was being elusive about something.
“Well, my visit with Dr. Washington went well for the most part. She was a little concerned that I haven’t been sleeping well. She wanted to give me a prescription for Ambien, but I passed for now. She also suggested I join a rape support group.”
“Hmmm.” Marcus continued eating his cheesecake while Monet’s sat uneaten on her plate. After he finished swallowing, he asked, “How do you feel about doing that?”
“I told her I would think about it, and I will.” She cut her cheesecake into tiny squares.
“So what gives with the elaborate dinner?” Marcus’s hand swept over the food. “Don’t get me wrong, you usually cook a great meal for dinner, but this time you’ve gone all out. Are we celebrating something?” He looked up into the air. “I know I didn’t miss our anniversary, and it’s not your birthday or mine.”
“Yes, you could say we’re celebrating,” Monet tittered nervously. She clasped her trembling hands together.
“Well, what is it?” Marcus lifted his eyebrow. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Monet took her husband’s hand. “Marcus, our dreams have come true. What have we prayed for more than anything else in the world?”
“I don’t know about you, but I prayed that the fool that attacked you didn’t have AIDS. And we already got back your test results for that, and it was negative.” Marcus looked at Monet searchingly.
She took a deep breath and moistened her lips. Unconsciously her hand strayed to her abdomen. “Marcus,” she said, with a smile bright as a hundred watt bulb, “we’re going to be parents. I’m pregnant.”
Marcus sagged in the chair for a moment and a smile flitted across his face. Then reality set in, and he held his hand up. “Hold on. I know you didn’t say what I thought you said.”
“I said that I’m pregnant. My due date is July fifteenth,” she informed him proudly.
She smiled at her husband tentatively. She could tell from Marcus’s expression that he wasn’t taking the news well.
He stared at her with his mouth wide open, and his body quaked with rage. He was struck silent. He covered his face with this hands and thought, God, why did you have to do this to us? What did we do to deserve this? No, Monet, can’t have this baby. She’s obviously mentally ill from the rape. She knows there’s no way in the world I can be this baby’s father.
Monet was horrified by Marcus’s reaction. Mitzi stood in the doorway barking loudly. Monet stood so abruptly that her glass of cider tilted to the side before it straightened. She fell back into her chair and dropped her head, while Marcus’s breathing became labored. Mitzi scampered into the room and ran between Marcus and Monet, barking furiously. Finally she was spent and lay down by her mistress’s feet. Marcus looked like all the blood had been drained from his body. His mind desperately desired to dive into denial. He wished they had never had the conversation they’d just shared.
With his face devoid of color, Marcus stared at Monet, who sat huddled in her seat. Her shoulders shook as she wept silently. Reality jump started Marcus’s mind, and he pondered how his wife could look so attractive when she greeted him, prepare an appetizing meal, and then wound him so deeply. His mind clicked to the conclusion that he had to try and reason with Monet about terminating the pregnancy. The conversation had to happen immediately before more time elapsed, and she balked at his suggestion.
His legs felt weak as he stood up and sat in the empty chair next to Monet. He moistened his lips and carefully considered his next words. “Nay-Nay, I’m sorry for the way I reacted to your news. But my God, woman, how did you expect me to react? There’s no way you’re pregnant with my child. Have you forgotten we can’t have children?”
Monet held up her head and looked at Marcus with dewy eyes. “Have you forgotten there was no medical reason why we couldn’t have children?” she asked him. “Did it ever occur to you that God picked now for us to have a child?”
Faith Page 7