by Pat Simmons
Tyson accepted her explanation, but he didn’t like it. He figured if everyone at the office knew they were a couple, even the folks at Solae’s church, it shouldn’t be a secret to Monica’s parents.
The Wyatts lived in North County in an older subdivision with well-kept single-story homes. He thought Mrs. Wyatt was going to cry when she answered the door, sniffing, and arms wide open before her daughter even introduced him.
“I can’t believe my daughter has been hiding you,” she said.
“I can,” Mr. Wyatt mumbled, coming up behind his wife. The look in his eyes put Tyson on notice he wasn’t easily impressed.
Once their hats and coats were removed, he followed them into a small sitting room off the kitchen. “Mom, there’re a lot of things I need to tell you.”
“You’re pregnant,” Mrs. Wyatt stated in horror as they took their seats.
“What!” her father raised his voice as he and Tyson exchanged bewildered glances.
“Ah, no. I told you Tyson and I got our past sins washed away, we’re not trying to make any new ones,” Monica defended their relationship and he was proud of her.
It was Tyson’s idea to tell her parents about the attacks, even if she hadn’t suffered any since the day they accepted God’s complete salvation.
Her father crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat while her mother scooted to the edge of the sofa.
“I’m starving. Can’t we eat first?” Monica practically whined.
“No, let’s talk, then we’ll feed you,” Mr. Wyatt stated.
If Tyson knew they would be interrogated first, he would have insisted they grab a bite earlier, but she refused, stating her mother would be offended they had eaten anything.
“Daddy…”
Doubting her father was going to budge, Tyson squeezed her hand for her to comply.
“Hush, George, I want to hear how they met.” Ollie smiled.
She glanced at him again. “A while back, I started having these attacks—”
“What kind of attacks?” Her mother gasped for air, then patted her chest.
“Nothing life-threatening,” she hurried to explain.
When Monica seemed concerned at Ollie’s reaction, Tyson kept his eyes on her and prayed nobody would be having attacks today on his watch.
“I kinda freaked out for no reason. I felt frightened, started sweating. The next time I was on the highway, another time I was in my car.”
“How many times?” her mother asked.
“Four,” Tyson answered. “She was having an attack while driving and pulled over to the shoulder. I stopped to see if she was all right.” Mr. Wyatt smiled, definitely pleased. “Then I hired her.”
“She works for you?” Her father frowned. “I don’t like he has the power to fire you.”
“Or the power to love her,” Tyson stated. “And I do.”
“These attacks…” Her mother steered the conversation back to Monica. “You’re a very rational and tempered person. For you to act like that out of the blue reminds me of when you were a baby and we caught your Uncle Johnny holding you high in the air, ignoring your pleads to get down, or putting you in the wagon and running fast. The boy was beyond mischievous. After we caught him trying to terrorize you with Halloween masks, your daddy banned him from our house,” she explained.
“Uncle Johnny?” Monica said as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Yep, Attorney Johnathan Washington Wyatt had a warp sense of humor when he was young.” His father hmphed.
“Maybe that had something to do with those fear attacks,” her mother reasoned.
“Maybe, but I’ve never been scared of flying, driving, people…” She shrugged. “So can we eat now?” She feigned starvation. It worked and in less than five minutes, they gathered around the table.
Tyson kept his amusement to himself. His woman had perfected the art of getting her way and better watch himself around the woman he loved her.
#
Double dating was overrated, judging from the vibes Tyson was getting from Reggie and Tracee. What had happened between last weekend and today?
He and Monica had been excited about joining them for dinner, but the evening was going downhill and fast. She must have sensed the tension too as she tried to engage Tracee. Reggie’s girlfriend was polite, giving short answers, but seemed uncomfortable.
What was going on in their paradise? Tyson wondered. The couple definitely wasn’t glowing.
“So, Tracee, how long have you and Reggie been dating?”
“Six months and two weeks.” Tracee cut her eyes at her boyfriend.
When Reggie excused himself to the men’s room, Tyson followed and stopped his friend outside the door. “Hey, man, what’s going on?” He tried to keep the edge out of his voice. “The double dating thing was your idea for our ladies to get to know each other, which is what Monica is trying to do. I’d have taken her to a movie or play.”
“That was before…” Reggie rubbed his neck and glanced away. Finally, he looked Tyson in the eyes. “I hate to say you were right, man, but the long-distance relationship is wearing us down. Changes need to be made. She ain’t moving and neither am I, so there you have it. The handwriting is on the wall.” He made quotation marks with his fingers.
“The double date was planned before Tracee decided, without my input, that we should go our separate ways. She felt I deserved to be told face-to-face.” Reggie twisted his mouth. He looked wounded. “She told me she was going to wait until after dinner, but it was too much to hold in.” He pointed back at the table. “You can blame her for ruining the night.”
Tyson had never seen his business partner so discombobulated. Neither had he seen him so enthralled with a woman. “Man, I’m sorry.” He glanced back. Tracee seemed to have no problem talking in their absence.
Two more names would be added to Tyson’s prayer list, because his heart ached for Reggie. “Listen…after we eat, let’s call it a night. Clearly, you and Tracee’s hearts aren’t in this and I want to salvage the night with Monica.”
“Fine with me. If this wasn’t an upscale restaurant, we could order to-go meals,” Reggie sputtered and walked into the men’s room.
Tyson didn’t follow this time. Instead he whispered a short prayer, “Lord, what can I do or say? Reggie’s hurting.”
Pray My will, God whispered back.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“This will be our first weekend apart,” Tyson told Monica as he packed for a business conference in Florida, the same one where Reggie had met Tracee. It was an unspoken rule after he and Tracee started dating that only Reggie would go on that trip.
That was before their relationship ended. Now, his business partner balked at any mention of Florida. Tyson had to rearrange his schedule for this trip. This was bad timing as they both were focused on drawing new clients and submitting some of their best campaigns for the Marcom Awards.
“I’ll miss you.” Her voice was soft. “Do you plan to reach out to Tracee while you’re in Tampa?”
“Nope,” he answered with little thought. “If they’re going to kiss and make up, they won’t need my intervention. If we had a disagreement, I would want us to kiss” —he lowered his voice— “and make up.”
“Me too. I don’t want to play games.”
“See, and that’s why I don’t want to get in the middle of it. I’m going to sit in on two workshops and come back home to my woman.” He hadn’t zipped up his garment bag and he missed her already.
“Be safe.”
“You too, babe.” After a series of kisses, and a short prayer, they reluctantly said their ‘I love you’s and goodbyes.’
#
Monday started off as a typical day for Monica. After meeting Veronica for dinner and a brief shopping binge, normalcy got lost on her way home from the mall.
“It can’t be.” She refused to accept the eerie feeling creeping over her shoulders as if it was coming from the back seat. Her hands began to
sweat and her heart raced. Was this her appointed time to die while Tyson was so far away? She voice activated a call to him. Her breathing was shallow. She couldn’t pass out yet, not until she reached him.
Getting his voicemail, she blinked away a tear and whimpered, “Jesus, You healed me. Why is this happening to me?”
The attack seemed greater than the last one on the night Tyson followed her. She could make the less than five miles home. “Come on.” She pounded the wheel, debating whether to pull off on the shoulder and wait for this episode to pass, or defy death and keep driving.
Your life is in my hands, God whispered.
What does that mean? Was she going to live or die? Immediately, her headset alerted her to a call seconds before the ringtone identified the caller. “Tyson, I’m scared.” Her voice cracked when she answered.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” The alarm in his voice sounded as raw as her fear.
“I’m having an attack—I guess. How is that possible? Didn’t God heal me?”
“Shh, it’s going to be okay. Where are you?”
“On I-170, leaving the Galleria. I met Veronica—”
“She’s not with you?” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, listen to me. I love you. I want you to keep both hands on the wheel and drive while I pray you home.”
She nodded, gripping the wheel tighter as cars zoomed past her thirty-mile-an-hour cruise in the slow lane. Some honked, startling her and causing her body to shake. She began to feel faint. She didn’t want to die without seeing Tyson one last time. “I love you. If anything happens—”
Tyson drowned her out. “Father, in the mighty name of Jesus, You see all things and know all things. Monica needs to know You’re in the car with her. Remind her she belongs to You, not the devil. You didn’t give her a spirit of fear, but a sound mind. Satan, I rebuke you in the name of Jesus. You had to get permission from God to taunt her, but the Bible says demons tremor at the name of Jesus. You heard me! Release your hold in the name of Jesus…”
The more he prayed, Monica accelerated until the Olive Street Road exit came into view. Stay focused, she kept telling herself as Tyson petitioned the Lord on her behalf until suddenly God took control of his tongues and spoke in a heavenly language. There was no interpretation, but fear immediately left her as she felt God’s presence.
By the time she exited off the highway, God’s anointing had touched her spirit. While stopped at the first red light, she began to worship Him, drawing attention from the motorist on her left. When the light flashed green, the driver peeled rubber, leaping into the intersection to apparently get away from her.
When she turned into her complex’s parking lot minutes later, she collapsed over her wheel, exhausted from the anguish but relieved to see her front door. “I’m home.”
Tyson sang a worship song of thanks. She blended her off-key voice with his until they faded to silence. After grabbing her purse and bag, she stepped out of the car, but Tyson refused to disconnect. “I don’t know what happened,” she tried to explain, but thinking about it brought fresh tears.
“Shh. What’s Veronica’s number?”
“Huh? Why?” Monica frowned as she unlocked the door and walked inside. There was no sense in arguing with him. She was too drained anyway, so she caved in.
She paced the floor in her bedroom as she undressed. She couldn’t stand still. “Lord, did You forsake me? Why did that happen?” Her barrage of questions led her to her Bible. The more she read, the calmer her spirit became. She was reading 2 Timothy 1 when her doorbell rang, followed by fanatic knocking. Next, she heard Veronica’s voice. “Open up, Monica.”
When she did, her friend nearly knocked her over, getting inside. “Tyson called and asked me to spend the night. He sounded alarmed, which of course freaked me out, because I thought God healed you…” she rambled as she dumped an overnight bag on the floor.
“Wait a minute. You’re spending the night? On a work night?”
“Yep.” She removed her coat, then looped her arm through hers. “Come on. Make me some coffee and you can tell me what happened when we left each other.”
For the first time since leaving the Galleria, she saw something funny. “I thought you came to comfort me.”
“I did and it starts with a cup of your half coffee, half hot chocolate combo.” She pulled out her cell phone and tapped in numbers. “Ty, this is Ronnie…”
Ty and Ronnie? Monica repeated in her head. When did they become so chummy? Her friend never used her childhood nickname…and Ty? She smirked, watching her friend nod and laugh. Glad for the company, Monica was about to step into the kitchen to prepare her drink request when Veronica snapped pictures of her, then texted them to Tyson.
“Here, your man wants to talk to you.” She handed over the phone.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly. “I don’t know what you said to Veronica to convince her to come on a work night and this late…”
“I’ll would move mountains to take care of you. But we’re going to keep praying and believing God will move this mountain.”
Closing her eyes, she allowed each word to seep into her heart. “Saying I love you back doesn’t seem like it’s enough.”
He chuckled. “Believe me, Miss Wyatt, it is.”
Opening her eyes, she glanced back in the kitchen. Veronica was making her own coffee concoction. Grinning, her friend lifted her mug up in a mock cheers. “Your brother ain’t got nothing on Ty. I want me one of them.”
“Then come to church and stay for the entire service,” she mouthed. “As you can imagine, I’m drained and it’s getting late. Veronica and I both have to get up for work—”
“Nope, Ronnie agreed…”
Ronnie again? God had truly blessed her with a good friend and a good man.
“…to take a day off, so I want you to work from home tomorrow. That is not up for discussion. I’ll call Reggie and advise him.”
“So, you’re pulling employer-employee rank on me?” She could feel her defiance rising.
“No, baby. This is a plea from a man who loves you and regrets not being there to put his arms around you to kiss and pray to make it better. Veronica was the best I could do.”
Monica laughed, and so did Tyson before they disconnected. She would never admit it, but she was glad she had a day to recover. She strolled back in the kitchen, poured her brew into a mug, blessed it in Jesus’s name, and took a sip. Eying Veronica, Monica giggled. “So you went back thirty years to Ronnie? And Ty?”
“Hey.” She shrugged. “Your man cares about you. He’s good peeps. I wanted him to know he can count on me. Plus, I owed him for that sub sandwich he brought me when I was sick.”
“Whatever, Ronnie,” she teased.
“Now, from the beginning, what happened between us driving off the parking lot and you getting home?”
Once Monica recapped, Veronica asked, “Isn’t that what your salvation was all about, getting healed and stuff?”
“I know Jesus healed my soul.” Monica didn’t say more, because she was confused.
Veronica hmmed. She rested her cup on a coaster and leaned forward. “Maybe God is going to use the doctors to heal you. Your ninetieth day is almost here. You have no excuse for not getting evaluated and put on medication. Trust me, you’re going to give Tyson gray hair before he marries you.”
“Marries me?” She fumbled with her hands. “Tonight may give him enough reason not to ask me.”
“God’s going to get you for lying. Ty has been praying for you since day one, and he doesn’t seem like a man to back down.” She yawned. “I need my eight hours, starting now. I assume my guest room is ready? Good night.” Veronica stood, gathered her tote, and walked down the hall to the other bedroom.
Monica reached for her Bible. The devil was a liar. She trusted God to heal her body and soul.
According to My will, He whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tyson was hot! The devil was a coward to wa
it until he was gone to wreak havoc on his woman.
Tuesday morning, he prayed longer than usual and read as many chapters as he could find in his Bible on spiritual warfare. He called Monica after he showered and dressed. “How did you sleep?”
“Great, actually. I went to bed with Jesus and woke up with Him. Reading His Word was comforting. Now, I’m cooking Ronnie” —she giggled— “and me some omelets.”
Tyson grunted. “I sent her over there to take care of you.”
“Yeah, well, this is one of the casualties of Veronica doing favors. It always costs me in the kitchen.”
“Hey, I heard that!” she said in the background. “Good morning, Ty.”
He chuckled and returned her greeting through Monica. They chatted a few more minutes, then disconnected.
Before checking out of the hotel, Tyson made two more calls. First to Reggie to let him know he asked Monica to work from home.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes, she is now. I’ll go check on her as soon as my plane lands.”
“I would do the same for Trac—that’s over.” He paused. “Have you seen her?”
“I haven’t.” Tyson didn’t say more. He didn’t offer to reach out either. He had his own woman to focus on.
“Okay. Well, be safe, learn a lot, and I guess I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
“Yep.” Next he called Solae and didn’t waste time explaining what had happened. “I know Tuesdays and Thursdays are your off days, but do you mind going to visit and pray for her? Her friend stayed the night, but she needs a spiritual sister right now.”
“You don’t have to ask twice. I’m on it.”
“Thank you.” His day just got better.
#
“I want me a Tyson Graham.” Veronica pouted, carrying a vase of flowers into Monica’s bedroom.
