Deliver Me

by Farrah Rochon

  But she didn’t like this woman.

  Tosha Culpepper had purposely injected her and Eli’s high school romance into the conversation every chance she got. She had tried every trick known to man to make Monica feel left out.

  “I’m not sure what he’s told you, but when Elijah and I decided to end our relationship it was not as amicable as he makes it out to be. I was the one who ended it.”

  Monica turned her head to the side and ran her gaze up and down the other woman, hoping she achieved the disinterested look she was going for.

  “I was tired of his lies,” Tosha continued. She turned her body fully to Monica. “You see, no matter how much he tells you he loves you and that you’re the only woman for him, Eli will always be attracted to other women. He is incapable of being committed to one woman.” She shrugged. “Of course, some women are willing to let him get away with it. For what you get in return, letting Eli have a little something on the side isn’t much to pay.”

  Monica lifted a brow.

  Tosha patted her on the shoulder and said with a halfhearted laugh, “Don’t even try it, honey. I had him long before you did. I know how good he is.”

  She’d had him? Just the thought of Eli with this woman had Monica ready to throw up. Or throw a punch upside Tosha’s head. Either one sounded good at the moment.

  “His roaming eye gets old,” Tosha continued. “And no matter how good he is in bed, the fact that he’s giving it to countless other women will start to get to you. I just thought I’d warn you,” she said, then smiled as if they had just spent the last five minutes trading recipes.

  Monica stared at Tosha’s retreating back and fought the urge to tackle her like a football player. She refused to give an ounce of credence to what she’d said. Monica knew envy when she heard it. Tosha Culpepper wanted Eli for herself. The woman could not be more transparent if she were made of sheer lace.

  Alex had already explained that her being here tonight was unavoidable since she answered the phone when he’d called to invite Sienna, but he promised to keep her as far away from future Holmes family functions as possible. That, at least, brought her a bit of relief.

  By the time she arrived at her apartment, Monica was ready to crash on the floor of her foyer. The ten steps to the sofa seemed like a mile.

  It had taken a half hour to say goodbye. Of course, every time Monica tried to leave, Margo dragged her into another conversation.

  Even in her tired state Monica managed to smile. She liked Margo. She was the polar opposite of her own mother, who ruled her children with an iron fist and was as cold as Antarctica in the dead of winter. No matter how hard she tried, Monica could never please her mother. But with Margo, just being there seemed to be enough for her.

  The telephone rang, and Monica groaned. In order to answer it she would have to walk, and that was just a little too much to ask of her aching body at the moment.

  She managed to shuffle to the phone on the end table. She picked up on the fifth ring.

  “Hello.”

  “You miss me?” came a deep, decadent voice.

  A warm glow started from within her chest and spread throughout her body. It was amazing what just the sound of this man’s voice did to her.

  “I was going to lie, but what’s the point. I miss you terribly.”

  “Good.”

  “Shut up,” she laughed. “I had a great time with your family. Your Uncle Jake put a hole in your mother’s kitchen wall trying to open a jar of pickles.”

  “Never a dull moment at the Holmeses.”

  “Want to know the most interesting portion of my night?”

  “What’s that?” Eli asked.

  “My little heart-to-heart with one Ms. Tosha Culpepper,” Monica answered sweetly.

  He waited a beat, then cursed. Monica could barely hear the whispered reply. “That girl.”

  “She sure is a piece of work.”

  “She’s a basket case, Monica. I don’t even want to know the things she told you.”

  “Oh, you certainly don’t want to know, but I’ll tell you anyway. According to Tosha, if I’m smart, I’ll get out while my heart’s still intact. I have to warn you, I pride myself on being a pretty smart cookie.”

  “I swear she was not this way in high school. Maybe a little off, but nothing compared to the fruitcake she’s turned out to be. Don’t believe a word she says.”

  “It’s forgotten, Eli. I know a jealous ex-girlfriend when I see one. Now, her sister, Sienna, seems really sweet.”

  “She is. Sienna is the only sane one in that family. I think their mother found her on the doorstep or something.”

  “Stop that,” Monica laughed. “By the way, Alex wanted me to tell you they’ve decided to take your mom to Ruth’s Chris Steak House for her birthday dinner. I was surprised when he told me it would be just the five of you. That seems a little small for a Holmes family gathering.”

  “Mama loves throwing big parties for everybody else, but she never wants us to make a fuss over her birthday. My brothers and I have talked about doing something big for her sixtieth birthday next year, though.”

  “Well, this year, it’ll be just a cozy dinner with Margo and her boys.

  “You’re invited, too.”

  “Am I?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you,” Monica answered, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “Do you have any idea when you’ll be back?” she asked.

  “That’s why I called.” She heard the disappointment in his voice. Monica’s heart fell.

  “What happened? I thought Doctor Lewis would take over for you?” Was she actually whining? She never whined.

  “His father is worse off than they realized. He’s taking an extended leave. He’ll be in Minnesota for at least the next three weeks.”

  “Three weeks! I can’t drive up to Hattiesburg for the next three weeks. Do you know how expensive gasoline is? There has got to be another ob-gyn they can bring out there.”

  “What can I say? They want the best,” he said in an exaggerated cocky tone.

  “This is so not the time to try out the new comedy act. We need to think of something. I miss you,” she said softly.

  “I know, baby. Let’s hope the Mississippi legislature can come up with a plan when their emergency session reconvenes tomorrow.”

  “They had better,” Monica said. “I just may have to go up there and lobby myself.”

  Eli chuckled. “I’ll warn them.” In a more serious tone, he said, “I’m sorry I have to be away from you for so long.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “And I’m sorry I’m not doing my part for the banquet.”

  “You’ve done an amazing job already. So many bachelors have volunteered, thanks to your arm-twisting. And now that you’ve convinced Toby to let Aria Jordan perform, I know we’re going to make more than enough to keep the center open. You just concentrate on getting back here.”

  “I promise, I’ll try.”

  It took everything Monica possessed not to say the words she was dying to say. But until Eli made a proclamation of love, she would not reveal what was in her heart.

  She had told Patrick she loved him very early in their relationship, and Monica was now convinced that’s when he had tied the puppet strings to her back. Once she made her feelings known, he knew he could manipulate her. Monica refused to be put in that position again.

  “Don’t let them work you too hard,” she said instead.

  “Same with you. Although, the only person who would work you too hard is you.”

  “Ha. Ha,” she mocked, rolling her eyes, although he couldn’t see her. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Monica.”

  Say it. Monica silently pleaded. But, he didn’t.

  “Talk to you tomorrow,” Eli said, then he hung up the phone.

  Monica listened to the steady hum of the dial tone for several moments while she mulled over the multitude of questions rolling through her
mind. Had Eli fallen as hard for her as she had for him? Would he be willing to take their relationship to the next level? Would he ever tell her he loved her?

  She was too exhausted to make sense out of it all.

  Monica deposited the handset back into its cradle. She stripped away her clothes on the way to her bedroom, and once there, fell face first onto the bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The doorbell’s incessant ringing had Amanda near the edge. She smoothed the covers around her and tried to ignore the diabolical chiming; focusing instead on the made-for-TV movie she had been struggling to watch for the last half hour. She still had no idea what the movie was about.

  The doorbell rang again, and Amanda fought the urge to waddle to the front door and punch the hell out of whoever had been there for the last five minutes. Probably a bill collector.

  Whoever it was, they could press the bell until their finger fell off. The last thing Dr. Holmes told her was that she had to remain in bed if she didn’t want to endanger herself or the baby. She would heed her doctor’s warning.

  The ringing stopped and Amanda exhaled a sigh of relief.

  Lying in bed all day had her crazy enough as it is; she did not need additional contributors to her impending insanity.

  The doorbell sounded again, followed by rapid knocking.

  Oh, for goodness sake. She would just have to seek Dr. Holmes’s forgiveness.

  Amanda threw the covers off and struggled to get her legs over the side of the bed. She had been on her back so long, she wasn’t sure her limbs would be able to hold her up.

  Knowing what she was doing was wrong; Amanda felt a twinge of guilt settle deep in her stomach as she lifted herself up from the bed and headed toward the front door. She said a silent prayer that the dizziness would not return.

  She unlatched the chain, opened the door, and froze. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the face of the one person she hated more than any other in the world. A person she had never officially met, but who had turned her life upside down.

  The other woman.

  Like film on a movie reel, her mind raced back to the day she saw Jeffrey and this woman walking out of their house together, hand in hand. At first, she had been willing to write it off as harmless, something that could easily be explained. Until the two of them embraced. They’d held each other, then Jeffrey had opened her car door and helped her inside.

  That’s when Amanda knew this stranger her husband had brought into her house was anything but harmless. She was a home wrecker.

  And now she was standing on her doorstep.

  “Is Jeffrey Daniels here?” the woman asked.

  Amanda was about to tell her to go to hell when she looked down and noticed the woman’s very pregnant belly.

  Her world imploded.

  She lifted her hand to her forehead as sudden dizziness overwhelmed her. The reality of Jeffrey’s betrayal hit with the force of a Mack truck. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears like a raging river. Breathing became difficult, almost impossible. Unbidden, images of her husband lying with this woman, impregnating her in their own bedroom flashed through Amanda’s mind.

  A mass of hurt encircled her heart. Pain. Anger. Fury. Deep, profound, unmitigated fury. It spiraled through her body as the realization of what stood before her dawn with mind-blowing clarity.

  Amanda could not give Jeffrey what he wanted, so he’d found someone who could.

  “Jeffrey Daniels?” the woman asked. “He still lives here, doesn’t he?”

  Amanda tried to find her voice. It was lodged behind a lump of resentment. This is the woman who had ruined her marriage, who had coldly stolen her husband.

  “Is everything okay?” the woman asked. She flattened her palm over her belly and rubbed.

  Amanda saw red. Was she taunting her? Had Jeffrey discussed their infertility struggles?

  Even as she felt her own baby flutter inside of her, Amanda was hit with a wave of inferiority. She felt second-rate to the woman who Jeffrey had easily gotten pregnant.

  “Could you please tell Jeffrey I need to speak with him?”

  With sereneness completely contradictory to the turmoil roiling inside, Amanda calmly warned, “If you don’t get away from my door, I will hurt you.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry?” she said, confusion contorting her face.

  “You heard me,” Amanda annunciated through clenched teeth. At her sides, her hands balled into fists of their own accord.

  “Look, I really need to see Jeffrey Daniels. It is very important. It’s about work he did on my patio...”

  The rest of the woman’s words faded into a distant background. Amanda could feel herself losing it. The humming in her ears worsened as her head began to pound.

  Then Jeffrey arrived.

  His Explorer pulled into the driveway and he jumped out. Seeing him race toward his lover pushed Amanda over the edge.

  “You still want him?” she screamed. “There he is, running to your side like a knight in shining armor. You can have the son of bitch, because I don’t want him.”

  “Amanda! What are you doing out of bed?” Jeffrey tried to grab her arm, but she flung his hand away. She stomped onto the front lawn with measured steps, screaming every inch of the way.

  “She came looking for you.” Amanda focused her venom on her husband. “I guess you were paying to much attention to me and your whore didn’t like it. Are you planning to introduce your children to each other? Maybe they can be playpen pals?”

  “What is she talking about?” The woman looked to Jeffrey. “I only came to pay the rest of the balance for the brick work you did on my patio.” At his mistress’ feigned bewilderment and flimsy lie, Amanda felt the frayed threads of her sanity unravel.

  “Get away from my house,” she yelled as she hurled herself at the other woman.

  Jeffrey stopped her and wrapped his hands around Amanda’s wrist. “Dammit, Amanda! What in the hell are you doing?”

  “Get your hands off of me! I hate you! I hate you!” She choked on the bone-wracking sobs that escaped from deep within her soul. Amanda closed her eyes tightly and fought against his hold. “It wasn’t my fault! I wanted a baby as much as you did; it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t get pregnant. It wasn’t my fault that I lost the other baby. But I didn’t run out and have one with someone else.”

  Still holding onto her wrist, Jeffrey turned to his other woman. “Mrs. Patterson, I’ll get the payment when I come to finish up the brickwork.”

  “Go to her! You can have her right now. I don’t want anything to do with you.” She wrenched her hands free. “I want you gone. No!” she gasped when he tried to capture her wrist again. “Get away from me!”

  “Amanda, stop this!”

  “Leave me alone.” A searing pain gripped her stomach. Clutching it in her hands, Amanda screamed, “I hate you! I hate you!” The sharp pain shot through her stomach like a lightening rod, bringing Amanda instantly to her knees. “God, no,” she cried, cradling her belly, willing her baby to be okay.

  “Amanda!”

  Faintly, she heard Jeffrey speaking into his cellular phone to the 911 operator. Another stalk of pain ripped through her and Amanda fell all the way to the ground, the dampness from the earlier rain shower seeping through her lightweight dress.

  She felt the rush of liquid flow out of her and instant tears sprung to her eyes, tears that had nothing to do with the paralyzing pain.

  Her water had just broken.

  Her baby was coming. Five weeks too soon.

  Monica rummaged frantically through the mountain of invoices and receipts. She’d just had the contract for the ice sculpture a minute ago. It had to be in here. But it wasn’t. Monica pounded both fists on the table, sending papers flying.

  She had to get a grip. The banquet was less than a week away, but her nervous breakdown was less than a second away. If she did not calm down she was going to go
postal on the next person to walk through the door, which would likely be Dr. Moore, since she had commandeered the head of the food subcommittee’s office without his knowledge.

  She wasn’t use to being at the hospital and not being in the ER, but since it was her day off, she’d had to find somewhere else to work. Right now, Monica was contemplating bringing everything to the bar down the street. She would probably be in a better mood after a few drinks.

  What had she been thinking; taking on this banquet, knowing so much was riding on it? When she first agreed to chair the fundraiser, all Monica could see was the accolades she would receive after saving the day. She had not thought about what would happen if the banquet flopped.

  Fear of the banquet having less than stellar success was giving her an ulcer. Though, she must admit, the praise already trickling in felt really good.

  Monica was still on cloud nine after running into Dr. Slessinger in the hallway. News of the record number of pre-sold tickets had made its way back to the chief of staff. The praises he sang would be enough of an incentive to get her through the next few days.

  Monica gathered the papers that had flown from the desk and stacked them in a neat pile. Finding this receipt was the last thing on her plate. Once she reviewed it and sent Dr. Moore her approval she could head to the plantation in Destrehan and make sure everything was in order for Saturday.

  Monica heard the door open, but didn’t bother looking up from her rummaging. “I’ll be out of your office in a minute, Dr. Moore.”

  Yes. Monica breathed a sigh of relief as she came up with the receipt. She had not gone crazy...yet.

  “Dr. Moore couldn’t make it.” Her head flew up at the sound of the familiar, sensual voice.

  “Eli,” she whispered. She bounded from the chair and rushed into his arms, showering his faintly stubble-covered chin with a rain of kisses. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve promised to cover a month’s worth of weekends for Dr. Bailey, but I don’t care because I had to see you.”

  Monica’s heart soared. God, she loved this man.

  “I can’t believe you went through all that trouble.”