Practice Run (Mount Faith Series: Book 5)

by Barrett, Brenda

  "Are you going to help me fill in some of the blanks of my Swiss cheese memory?" Marcus asked.

  Norman paused, in a way he was glad that Marcus couldn't remember that he had confessed that he slept with Tiffany last year because Tiffany was pregnant now and obviously, Marcus had forgiven her. He did not want to rehash anything with his friend.

  He sighed. "Marcus, I can't tell you anything much except that when we were in Africa you kept to yourself. When we were coming back on the plane you said you were unhappy because of some girl you loved. I dropped you off at Mount Faith and you met in that accident."

  "You never told me all of this before," Marcus said trying to digest what he just heard. "You dropped me off at Mount Faith?"

  "Well, yeah, you may never get back your memories," Norman said, "It is over six months. Let it go."

  "I can't." Marcus said, "I just can't. In the six months there was something important that happened to me. I fell in love with Deidra."

  Norman paused. "Yes, you did say that, but obviously you got it back on with Tiffany."

  "Yes," Marcus rubbed his temples, "obviously. Why did I do that?"

  "Who knows? You guys have history. So when is the wedding?" Norman asked cautiously. "You always said you were only having children in wedlock. Remember when Sheena got pregnant you were urging me to marry her?"

  "You love Sheena, she loves you. Why on earth won't you marry her?" Marcus asked. He turned off the car and inclined his seat so that he was lying down, and then as clear as day he heard the voice of Norman saying to him... Tiffany is not wife material.

  Had Norman ever said that? Or was this his confused brain playing tricks on him.

  "Have you ever said that Tiffany is not wife material?" Marcus asked Norman.

  "Whoa," Norman felt trapped. If it's one thing he wanted his friend to forget, it was that conversation. "Why would I say that?"

  "I don't know," Marcus said, disappointed. "It just felt like I heard it before."

  "You know what?" Norman said hurriedly. "Gotta go! I have to get some supplies for the party. Stop by if you feel like it."

  "Okay." Marcus hung up the phone and contemplated Norman’s rushed exit from the conversation. He had said it. Marcus knew it. Why had he said it?

  Marcus drove to his apartment; he had taken to visiting Tiffany every Wednesday as a ritual.

  He didn't love her anymore, but she was having his child and that was a responsibility he couldn't shake, and he didn't want to. After he visited her, he would go to the church down the road for Wednesday night service.

  He had started going to church in the nights pretty regularly, and when he had been in Mount Faith, he had gone with his parents every Sabbath and was even rediscovering his relationship with God. He had taken to praying simple prayers and was discovering the joy of being close to God again.

  He drew up outside his apartment building and pressed the remote for the gate. The gate swung open slowly. Tiffany's car was there and he had a sensation again that he had seen her car there, with somebody else's beside hers.

  He was still pondering the scenario when Tiffany opened the door of the apartment.

  "Hi," she said brightly.

  "Hi," Marcus looked at her curiously. "You seem happy."

  "I am going to have your baby. I must be happy," Tiffany said with a lilting laugh. "I also got the 4D ultrasound today for our little man. Want to see it?"

  Marcus nodded and entered the apartment. Tiffany was in a long peach patterned maxi dress. She looked feminine and cute. She had stopped dying her hair and for the first time in years, he could see her natural black color with the blonde tips at the ends. It made her look softer somehow and prettier, and with that smile, it gave him a sense of nostalgia. He needed to forget Deidra and move on. This right here was his family.

  He sat in the settee and waited for Tiffany to slip in the DVD. He had resented Tiffany for getting pregnant, and by extension the baby, so he had neglected going to any of Tiffany's baby stuff and had deliberately stayed away from the ultrasound today. He felt badly about it now.

  He watched as the video began and he could see his son. His heart melted even more when he saw the little boy sucking his thumb.

  "He is so big," Tiffany said, pleased. "He can barely move around in here."

  Marcus resisted the urge to touch her belly. That was a level of intimacy he didn't want to allow himself to have with her.

  "Marcus, when are you coming back home?" Tiffany asked, her eyes soft. "I don't want to be a single parent. I would love if my name is Tiffany Bancroft on this baby's birth certificate."

  Marcus shifted on the chair uncomfortably. "I don't want to get married." Then he realized that that was a lie. He would get married to Deidra in a heartbeat if she wanted him.

  "I mean," he corrected himself hurriedly, "I don't want to marry because of the baby. My father warned me against that. Marriage should be only about the other person you are marrying and no other reason. I think he's right."

  "Your parents hate me, especially your father," Tiffany pouted. "Your rehab is over. Why don't you move back home?"

  "My rehab is ongoing," Marcus got up and stretched, "and I don't want us to live together anymore, not without marriage. I have started going back to church. They frown on that sort of thing, you know… living with a woman without the benefit of marriage."

  "Then make it right," Tiffany said. "Marry me and sort it all out. I'll even go to church with you. You, me, and the baby, like a family."

  Marcus frowned. "You are not into church, remember? It would severely dent your party lifestyle."

  "And so will this baby, might as well go all the way." Tiffany indicated to her belly. "You know, I would have never marked you down as a deadbeat father."

  "I am not a deadbeat father," Marcus said feeling affronted. "You live in my apartment. I still pay all the bills. What are you talking about?"

  "You are not here," Tiffany said, upset, "and it's because of Deidra; it's not because of rehab. Let me tell you something; that is putting somebody before your own flesh and blood; that's deadbeat for me."

  Marcus had heard this from Tiffany so many times before in so many versions. He wished he could turn off his Deidra fascination and just go back to the way things were with him and Tiffany, but of course, that was not how it was and as usual, he felt guilty.

  He felt guilty that he had slept with Tiffany and obviously impregnated her while he loved Deidra. That was so out of his character that the guilt was almost stifling.

  "I have to go," he looked on his watch. "I am going to church tonight."

  "Well, I am coming," Tiffany declared. "If you want to be a Christian, I'll become one too. Maybe then you will see sense."

  "It doesn't work that way," Marcus said. "You don't just become a Christian because somebody else wants to. You have to work out your own situation with God."

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. "I am coming, help me up."

  Marcus held out his hand and she clutched them while getting up. "You see how I really need you here. I can barely get up on my own."

  Marcus stepped away from her as soon as she had straightened. "Ahh Tiff, give me some time to sort this out, please."

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Deidra Durkheim?" Deidra answered her phone. It was a strange number and the person had a deep voice.

  "Yes," Deidra said, clutching her design portfolio and her phone in one hand while she locked her car door. Her car remote battery had stopped working just that morning.

  She had moved into her new apartment in the Golden Triangle, a posh upper St. Andrew neighborhood, which was quite close to her new shop. She had already worked out all the details for her business and was busy preparing to unleash her new fashion ideas on the world.

  She headed for her apartment, juggling her bags. "I am Deidra."

  "I am Griffin King," the caller said, "head of Swift Track Club."

  "Oh yes, I know about Swift." She laughed. "Well I guess the w
hole Jamaica knows about Swift. You work with some big track stars."

  Like Marcus Bancroft, her mind said silently. She ignored her mind. She had been burying the name Marcus Bancroft for the past few months. His name had the effect of plunging her into a low mood.

  She went inside and switched on the central cooling right away and dropped her packages and bag in the settee, following them in relief.

  "Well yes," Griffin said slowly, "I heard that you are a designer."

  "Yes, I am." Deidra perked up. "I just put up the sign for my new shop today."

  "Well," Griffin was in his office looking across the sea of trophy's on the shelves he had had made just for them; he cleared his throat. "We are looking for a new set of jerseys for our club and we would like you to design them."

  "Me?" Deidra squealed. "That's awesome. How did you hear about me? Not that I am looking a gift horse in its mouth, but I am relatively new in the market."

  Griffin considered telling her that she was needed to give his star athlete a mental boost. Griffin had called Mount Faith University and spoken to her mentor, and the way the woman told it, Deidra was going to be something special in the fashion world. They needed new jerseys, but he really did not care much about the fashion side of things. He had come up with the brilliant idea to have Deidra work for them for a while to see whether her being around would motivate Marcus. He needed a shake up from his doldrums, and it seemed as if Deidra was the only one to do it.

  "Well, I heard about you from your mentor, Mrs. Fletcher, from Mount Faith University."

  "Ah," Deidra said, "I owe her one. So what kind of designs did you have in mind?"

  Griffin grimaced. Sports was his business; design was not his thing. "I can send you a picture of our old designs,” Griffin said quickly, “and our logo. You can incorporate elements of that in your thing. I'll send you all the information by email. Is that okay?"

  "That's fine," Deidra said eagerly. "Let me give you my details…"

  When she hung up the phone, she was ecstatic. She had gotten this one without her father pulling strings for her. That made her extremely happy. Her Dad had been disappointed that she had not wanted to go to her graduation in August, but she had had enough of Mount Faith, and the Bancroft's especially. During her final semester, she had to practically dodge Marcus while he was recuperating at his parent's house. When Kylie had gotten her head out of honeymoon cloud, she had been doing her final exams, so she could use that as an excuse not to talk about Marcus.

  She really wanted to put the word Bancroft out of her vocabulary, forever. She had tangled herself with one brother and gotten rejected, and she had genuinely loved another and got hurt.

  She got up from her sofa. She really needed to do some washing. Her whole apartment smelled new. Her curtains, pillows everything had that new scent which she hated. Not even her aromatherapy candles could mask the scent of new. “Keep busy” was her mantra these days, and then after that she would head out to the church down the road. At least she had picked up some good habits from university, and she had loved the Wednesday night meetings that they had at school. She would like to continue going now that she was back in Kingston.

  *****

  Marcus got out of the car and went over to Tiffany's side of the vehicle to help her out. His Wednesday night place of refuge was now destroyed. He watched as Tiffany got out of the car, rubbing her belly. Marcus had kept the fact that Tiffany was pregnant on the down low. He could imagine what the friendly pastor who had taken a shine to him and loved to chat him up after church would say about this.

  He could imagine that he would be pressured to marry her now. He sighed as he headed into the church, foregoing his front seat for one at the back. The church was not crowded on a Wednesday night, anyhow, so he was still inconspicuous sitting there with Tiffany.

  The church had a lively praise team which did the song service. They even had Tiffany, who up until now was anti-church, nodding her head and rocking.

  "I like this." She turned to Marcus smiling. "Why didn't you invite me before now?"

  Marcus shrugged. He hadn't wanted her coming to church with him, and showing him up for what she had called him earlier: a deadbeat Dad.

  He had no rhyme or reason not to marry Tiffany. He had lived with her. They had been happy together, but now that she was pregnant, he did not want to commit to her in marriage.

  He felt a vestige of a headache coming on, which it ultimately did when he thought about his current situation. He rubbed his temples gently.

  A flash of green caught his eye. A woman had just entered the church. She had a profile like Deidra's. As usual, his treacherous heart pounded when he thought that it could be Deidra. She headed for the front of the church and sat in the second bench. She turned her head and smiled with somebody behind her, and then he realized that it was indeed her.

  His breath caught in surprise. Deidra was coming to this church? He stopped rubbing his temples and stared at her longingly. Oh, how he missed her. He wished he could just get up now and sit beside her, hold her hand, hug her, smell her perfume.

  "It's her." Tiffany whispered fiercely beside him. "Is this why you are suddenly coming to church?"

  Marcus looked at Tiffany's furious face and bit back the retort he was about to make. He had to be mindful that she was in a vulnerable state right now.

  "No," he said softly. "It's the first time she is coming by since I've been coming here."

  "I hate her," Tiffany said tensely. "I absolutely do, I wish she'd just die."

  "Stop it," Marcus said fiercely. "Why are you like this?"

  "Because you love her," Tiffany sniffed. "Why her? You have never lived with her, you have never had sex with her, she is not pregnant with your baby, and yet you are hung up on this girl. What's the pull?"

  "Keep your voice down," Marcus said grateful that they were in the back of the church, and then a jab of pain hit him in his head. He could see in his minds eye Tiffany sitting on the floor, he was preparing to go to Africa. She was saying, “You would have carried your precious Deidra wouldn't you?” And then she said, “You were disloyal to this relationship, you have this girl in your head. Why can’t I have some fun too with Neil and let you see how it feels?”

  Neil! Marcus looked over at Tiffany who had twisted her mouth in contempt. Had she slept with Neil?

  He tried to capture more memories after that, all through the sermonette, which was entitled 'Decisions'.

  The pastor was saying, “It is important in life to make decisions in light of the end. From our ordinary human vantage point, we cannot see that which is to come. However, God sees the whole picture. He knows the beginning and the end. To live the Christian life is to have God’s perspective. We need to live our lives and make choices each day in view of the consequences of our decisions.”

  That stuck with him all through the prayer section, and even when they were heading outside. We need to live our lives and make decisions each day in view of the consequences of our decisions.

  He could choose Tiffany and his baby, or wait. Waiting was a decision, wasn't it?

  "Hello, Marcus." The pastor shook his hand vigorously. "Lovely to see you tonight. And who is this?" He turned to Tiffany, who gave him a half smile.

  "This is my friend Tiffany," Marcus said, not sure how he should have answered. She wasn't really his girlfriend anymore, was she?

  "His girlfriend, actually," Tiffany said loudly. Loud enough so that Deidra who was heading toward the front door could hear. "I am having his baby," Tiffany continued, so loudly that the pastor winced.

  Deidra made a beeline for the side doors, and Marcus watched her helplessly.

  "Excuse me," he said to both the pastor and Tiffany and ran after Deidra.

  "Deidra, wait!" Marcus called out to her. She had already reached the parking lot and was heading toward her car.

  Deidra paused before opening her door and looked around at Marcus. If the remote's battery hadn't died, she would ha
ve been in the car already.

  "Marcus," she said solemnly.

  "I don't live with her anymore," Marcus said. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

  Deidra bit her lip and then held down her head. The silence stretched between them.

  "It's nice to see you again," Deidra said, as if they were meeting for the first time.

  "Deidra," Marcus spread his arms in appeal, "talk to me."

  Deidra hesitated. "I see you are doing better."

  "My legs are fine," Marcus said, "having some issues getting back in the saddle. My memory is coming back in spurts. Can we go out, talk?" He stepped closer to her. "I am really happy to see you again; can't we be some sort of friends?"

  Deidra could actually hear his heart thudding when he came closer to her. Her heart thudded in response.

  She struggled to get her suddenly dry mouth to speak. She cleared her throat. "Tiffany..."

  Marcus sighed and stepped away from her. "Tiffany?" He looked around, there was nobody yet in the parking lot. The small group of people who had come to the meeting was still at the front. The pastor must have engaged Tiffany in conversation because she was nowhere to be seen.

  Marcus grabbed Deidra to him. "I have been dying to do this, since forever, forgive me. He placed his lips on hers and fireworks of sensation shot through her and she pulsed and tingled in response. She shivered violently when the sensual glide of his tongue probed the tender cave of her mouth. The throb of desire that flashed and stabbed through her slim body was almost too much to bear, and she moaned in protest.

  “Electricity.” Marcus released her. His deep, dark drawl roughened. "We always had that; didn't we Deidra? From the time we met in Miami."

  His head was suddenly flooded with memories of their first encounter at the Miami event. He then remembered that he had returned home and visited her, and they had agreed to stop seeing each other, even though they really wanted to.

  The memories almost made him weak. He exhaled in relief.

  "Now I remember. My heart always recognized you even when my head didn't. We need to talk."