“Okay,” Liz replied. “And I think you’re right. I remember leaving a set of pajamas here for us. It’s not like I can fit into your clothes as tiny as you are. But we’ll see what your weight is in about eight months.”
Monet turned off the light in her office while Liz took the tray into the kitchen, put the cups in the sink, and rinsed them. She turned off the light and joined Monet in the hallway.
With her head turned to the side, Mitzi looked at her mistress and wagged her tail hopefully, as if asking Monet if she could sleep upstairs in the master bedroom with her.
Monet snapped her fingers and said, “In there, Mitzi.” She pointed toward the kitchen.
The dog stood up promptly and tried to follow Monet upstairs. Liz laughed and walked over to the dog, scooped her up, and walked toward the kitchen. Liz turned on the light, put the dog in her doggie bed, and then turned off the light.
The women walked up the stairs together. Monet went toward the master bedroom, while Liz went to the guest bedroom across the hall. They said goodnight. Monet changed into a nightgown and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Liz sat on the side of the pine antique bed complemented by a matching dresser and tall chest of drawers. A television stood on the middle shelf of a pine entertainment center. A full length mirror stood in one corner of the room. The room was painted in earth tones, green and a cinnamon brown, which added a nice touch to the dark furniture. The bedroom set had belonged to Monet’s mother, and had been shipped to Chicago after Gayvelle’s affairs were settled.
Liz hated to lie on the lacy, ecru colored comforter. She felt like it was too delicate to use for sleeping and that it was more like window dressing. She walked across the room to the closet and removed a brown cotton comforter. Then she removed the lacy bedspread from the bed, and replaced it with the comforter. When she was done with that, she nodded with satisfaction, sat on the edge of the bed, and removed her shoes and socks. She padded over to the closet, removed her gown, then quickly stripped off her clothes and donned the gown.
Liz had laid her cell phone on the nightstand next to the bed, and it suddenly vibrated, startling her. She looked at caller ID and saw her home number.
“Hi, hon,” she answered.
“Lizzie, why didn’t you call me back?” Wade sounded aggravated. “I was starting to worry about you.” He was lying on his back, wearing red and white striped pajamas, and his feet were crossed at the ankles.
“This is the first opportunity I’ve had to call you since I got here. Monet and I have been talking, and we just turned in,” Liz whispered, as she stretched her body on the bed.
“I guess we were wrong, huh?” Wade said. “Monet is obviously all right, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Yes, we were way off the mark. Where’s Marcus?” Liz asked.
“He’s in the basement asleep on the sofa bed. I went downstairs and checked on him before I called it a night. He’s knocked out.”
“I’m getting ready to crawl into the bed.” Liz covered her mouth as she yawned and ran her hand over her head.
“Do you want to tell me what sent my buddy over the edge and then some?” Wade asked.
“It’s too long of a story to get into tonight. I’m hoping Marcus will talk to you himself, and maybe you can try to talk some sense into him,” Liz replied as she snuggled deep down in the bed.
“He definitely wasn’t in a talking mood tonight.” Wade gave his wife a recap of what had happened tonight.
“That’s a shame,” Liz said when he finished speaking. “Look, I’m tired, we’re both emotionally drained. I’m going to take a vacation day tomorrow and spend the day with Monet. Maybe you should see if you can get the day off too. I know with the help of the Lord, maybe we can get our friends back on track.”
“Humph, don’t count on it,” Wade snorted. “Marcus has really flipped the script. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what happened? I hate to be in suspense until tomorrow. Plus, if I knew what I was up against, then I’d know how to approach Marcus.”
“No, hon, it would take too long. What helps is that you’re a good listener, so I know you’ll be fine.”
“Man, a brother can’t get anything out of you,” Wade said to his wife grumpily. “I guess I’ll have to talk to Marcus in the morning and go at it cold turkey.”
“Uh-huh, you got that right. I’m going to turn in. Are you going to miss me tonight?” Liz asked in a semi-serious tone of voice as she pulled down the sleeve of her gown. She felt grateful that her and Wade’s marriage had never been tested to the degree that Monet and Marcus’s had.
“Like a thirsty man stranded in the desert,” he quipped. “Seriously, yes, I miss you already. Shoot, I missed you when I left to go get Marcus and pulled into the garage and saw your car gone.”
“You’re laying it on a bit thick.” Liz laughed. “I love you, Wade, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you too, Miss Lizzie,” he said. “Sleep tight. I know God will put the right words in our mouths to help our friends. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Wadie poo,” Liz said. Then she clicked her phone off and shifted in the bed to get comfortable.
With a smile on his face that matched the one on his wife’s, Wade turned off the light on the nightstand.
Marcus groaned as he turned over on the sofa and reached for Monet. Though he was still asleep, he stretched out his arm and patted the empty space next to him.
While at the Caldwell residence, a sob escaped Monet’s lips. She sighed and said, “Marcus.” Then she folded her arms around her waist.
It was going to be a long night for both couples, each separated from the one they loved.
Chapter 13
Wade awoke at 6:00 A.M., the same time he rose for work every morning. He opened his eyes, almost expecting to see Liz lying next to him snoring. He picked up the cordless phone from his nightstand and called the precinct. When the department clerk answered his call, Wade asked to be transferred to the chief.
He quickly explained to the man in charge that he and Marcus needed to take the day off, that a family emergency had arisen. Chief Davis asked Wade if everything was all right, as if he sensed there was more to the request than he was being told. Wade reassured him that he had everything under control, and that they would report for work the following morning as scheduled.
Wade then got out of the bed, showered, and dressed. Then he went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. While the java brewed, he strolled into the living room and returned to the kitchen with his Bible, the current issue of the Daily Word pamphlet, and The Chicago Sun Times newspaper. Usually he and Liz shared a spiritual meal before they headed for work if their schedules coincided.
The theme for the day in the pamphlet was overcoming fear, and the scripture was taken from the Twenty-third Psalm. Wade felt encouraged when he reached the end of the page and read the prayer, which thanked God for His promise to be with him always. The author bade Christians to faithfully trust in God, and to walk courageously with their Heavenly Father all the days of their life. Wade meditated on the lessons and the scripture. He felt how apropos the reading was, and how it seemed tailor made for his and Liz’s situation. The scripture encouraged Wade.
He stood and walked to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. He took the cream out of the refrigerator and sat back down on the cane back chair. He was thumbing through the sports section of the newspaper when he heard the basement door open. Marcus walked into the kitchen looking glum, like he’d lost his way and reason in life. He flexed his hand as if it pained him.
Marcus sat at the table while Wade rose from his seat to prepare a cup of coffee for his friend. When he was done, he handed the cup to Marcus, who added a couple spoonfuls of sugar, and then gratefully sipped the coffee.
Wade sat back down in the chair and said, “Good morning. Let me be the first to tell you that you look like death warmed over. Do you need an aspirin? Yo
ur face is swollen.”
“What I need to do is call work to take the day off, and an aspirin wouldn’t hurt,” Marcus said tiredly, as he massaged his temples.
“I already got that covered,” Wade told him. “I spoke to Chief Davis this morning.” He stood up, went to the bathroom, and returned to the kitchen with a bottle of aspirin. He tossed the bottle to Marcus, who poured two pills into his hand, and then sipped some coffee to wash them down.
Wade pulled Lee Otis’s telephone number out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Marcus. “You need to call this guy this morning and settle up your bar bill.”
“What is this for?” Marcus asked as he held the scrap of paper away from his face, trying to read the writing.
“Not only did you overindulge last night, you also caused a ruckus. You were brawling. Don’t tell me you don’t remember anything about last night?” Wade asked skeptically as he lifted his left eyebrow. He stood and went to the stove and poured himself another cup of coffee.
“Actually, I don’t remember too much about last night; just parts of it,” Marcus admitted, looking abashed. He dropped his head toward the floor.
“Do you remember the part that led you to the bar to begin with?” Wade asked.
“Unfortunately I do. I wish I could forget it and everything else that happened over the past couple of months,” Marcus sputtered. “Monet is pregnant.”
Wade coughed from choking on his coffee. He hadn’t seen that one coming. “Okay, I admit that’s big. From your reaction, I guess you don’t think the baby is yours?”
“You got that right. Monet’s in super denial mode. I think she needs to see a shrink. I told her there’s no way the baby she’s carrying is mine.” Marcus snapped his lips shut.
“I agree with you that the timing might not be right, but if you made love to her around the same time, then there is a possibility the child could be yours. At least that’s what I think,” Wade interjected.
“Monet hasn’t gotten pregnant in almost twenty years of marriage, and our anniversary is on Valentine Day. It was bad enough that she was battered and every little detail was reported in the newspaper and on the local news, and now she’s pregnant.” Marcus’s eyebrows shot up.
“I’m not going to lie; that’s heavy, but only because you’re looking at the situation through the eyes of someone who’s not saved.” Wade held out his hand toward Marcus. “I know that you’re saved and what you’re experiencing is a test of faith,” Wade said.
“Being saved or not doesn’t change the facts, Wade,” Marcus said crankily. He wished Wade would just leave him alone until he could figure out what to do.
“Let me see; your wife of almost twenty years, who you profess to love more than anyone in the world, is assaulted, and now she’s pregnant. Both of you have taken every test under the sun, which have shown there isn’t any reason why she can’t conceive. And you’re one hundred percent sure the child isn’t yours? Did I leave out anything?” Wade asked patiently.
“All that you said is true, except you left out the part where I told Monet she had to choose between me and that baby.” Marcus swallowed so hard that his throat hurt. “And you know what, Wade, I meant what I said. I want her to have an abortion right now. I have no desire at this stage in my life to become the laughing stock in our community or our jobs.”
“Oh,” Wade nodded, “so now you’re concerned with how people will perceive you, but not about your wife’s feelings or God’s? Remember Him? He’s the head of our life.”
“What would you do if you were in my situation, Wade?” Marcus asked unenthusiastically, although he already knew the answer to that question.
“I would accept the child as my own. Didn’t Joseph do the same for Mary and Jesus?” he said.
“Mary wasn’t raped.” Marcus’s voice rose slightly.
“I know, but that wasn’t the point I was making. As Christians, we’re responsible for one another, and you know that I don’t approve of abortion. Sometimes we have to come out of our comfort zone and do things we normally wouldn’t do.”
“That’s your theory, but my feelings are different. I see nothing wrong with Monet having an abortion under the circumstances. Rape is a valid reason for legally terminating a pregnancy,” Marcus stated.
“What about from a moral standpoint? And how would you feel about Monet terminating the pregnancy, knowing there’s a possibility that the child could be yours? Wouldn’t that be the same as killing your own child?” Wade asked.
“Morals have nothing to do with rape,” Marcus said loftily.
“What about half of that baby is a part of Monet?” Wade asked huskily. “The woman you say you love more than life itself.”
“I admit that’s where I struggle,” Marcus conceded begrudgingly. “But I can’t do it . . . and I won’t.”
“Sure you can. Turn it over to Jesus, and let Him guide you,” Wade suggested. He was trying very hard not to be judgmental.
“I know you disagree with me, but I can’t help the way I feel,” Marcus said. “My wife was attacked, and there is nothing I could do about that. And if she goes through with this pregnancy, I’ll have to look at the offspring of the animal that did that to her every day. It ain’t happening, dude. Monet will have to get rid of it,” he stated adamantly.
“You’re not thinking about this clearly,” Wade replied, trying to keep an even tone in his voice.
Marcus’s body bristled, and then he dropped his eyes. “If Monet had gotten pregnant by me one time during our marriage, then I would probably look at the situation differently. But she hasn’t, and miracles don’t happen, at least they haven’t in my lifetime.”
Wade shook his head sorrowfully and held up his hands. “You’re wrong, man. Monet wasn’t killed during the attack, and that was a miracle. She can see, walk. and think. Sometimes our Heavenly Father sends us gifts when He thinks we’re ready to cope with the situation. But don’t fool yourself, Marcus. God doesn’t make mistakes. Whatever happens is an event that He has orchestrated. I suggest you go home and talk to Monet. Have you forgotten how badly she wants a baby?”
“That’s what tears me apart about the entire situation.” Marcus opened and closed his jaw and flinched from the pain. “I do know how badly she wants a child. I’ve heard her go on about that our entire marriage. But I think her blindness about the conception runs so deep that she’ll accept that the baby is the rapist’s seed,” Marcus spat.
“You’ve got some issues you really need to work out,” Wade said, with a feeling of dismay building in his chest. “We all thought that Monet needed counseling, but maybe you’re the one who needs counseling.”
“There isn’t anything wrong with me that my wife can’t fix by doing what’s right for both of us, and not just for herself.” Marcus pushed the chair back from the table and stood up. “I’ve had enough of this conversation, and frankly, I think it’s time for me to go.”
“Where are you going? Your car isn’t here for you to go anywhere. Did you forget I had to drive you here from the bar?” Wade sipped his coffee.
“I can always take public transportation,” Marcus said stubbornly.
“I’ll take you to your car. I was really hoping we could come to a meeting of the minds regarding this issue,” Wade said. “But I see that isn’t going to happen, at least not today. You need to pray and allow God to direct you.” He drank the remainder of his coffee and went to his bedroom to get his car keys and wallet.
When Wade returned to the kitchen, he found Marcus standing in front of the back door looking out the window. He looked like he wanted to bolt the premises immediately. He opened the door and went outside.
Wade made sure the front door was locked before he went back into the kitchen and outside. He unlocked the door to the garage, then he and Marcus went and got into the car. Wade drove out of the garage and headed north to the bar. The two men rode in silence for a few miles.
“Marcus, I don’t want you to think I’m
choosing sides,” Wade finally spoke. “I intend to support you and Monet. You’re both in a tough predicament, but I know in the long run, you’ll both weather the storm. I would suggest you stay prayerful and listen to God as He guides you.”
Marcus shook his head and complained, “Can’t you just be a friend, and leave God out of this for once?”
Wade laughed. “You wish, but no I can’t. God is involved in every facet of our lives, so if you can’t trust Him to guide you right now, I’ll keep the prayers going out to Him to help you and Monet.”
“I appreciate you being here for me, Wade, and know if the situation was reversed, I’d do the same.”
“Fair enough for now,” Wade said graciously. “But know at some point, you’re going to have to take your burden to the Lord, and allow Him to work it out to His satisfaction, not yours or Monet’s. Since we both attend church, the same one I might add, you know what the Father wants you to do.”
“I know,” Marcus threw his hands in the air, “but sometimes turning the other cheek is easier said than done. It was bad enough Monet was raped, she was also beaten, and that’s not something I take lightly. And she’s pregnant on top of that. It’s too much, Wade. You know I’m right.”
“There is no right or wrong sometimes, Marc. At times it’s about acceptance of a situation, and I have a strong feeling that’s what you’re going to have to do, whether you want to or not.”
“We’ll see about that,” Marcus said grudgingly. Then he turned to the window and looked out of it. He didn’t talk to Wade the remainder of the ride to the bar.
Liz had tossed and turned most of the night. A few times during the night, she’d heard Monet sobbing, and Mitzi had crept upstairs and made mournful noises outside Monet’s bedroom door. Liz didn’t want to intrude, because she knew if Monet wanted comforting that she would’ve come to the guest bedroom. Liz bathed, dressed, tidied the room, called her job, and scheduled the day off work.
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