Belinda smiled at his use of the Bible verse. “We can go to the park. Then, I’ve got to finish my paper.” She was pursuing a degree in interior design at Southern Technical College. That was a long way from the court stenographer she had been in a past life. But, she had found her calling.
“I make enough for five people. You realize you don’t have to work?”
“You realize I know that?” Belinda glared. “I’m serious about this and I need you to support me. My father has spoiled me with anything I could ever want, but I want my own.”
Lance squeezed her cheeks. “I applaud your little endeavor. I’m just saying… I’ve got you.”
Her eyes narrowed at his choice of words. “Interior design isn’t a little endeavor. It might not be as important as a pulmonologist, but it’s important to me.” She bunched her fists. She was more than a lovely face and a hot body.
Lance touched her cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I like the thought of taking care of you.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself all my life without you.” Her chest heaved. “You need to lay that arrogance at the cross, Doctor.”
“The last time I checked, you liked my arrogance,” Lance joked.
She rolled her eyes.
“Let’s not fight, honey. I don’t want wrinkles forming on that lovely face before it’s time.”
If he calls me lovely one more time…
Lance held out his hand. “At least this got my mind off, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Belinda laughed. “I can’t stay mad at you.”
“I won’t let you. Now let’s get out of this house and go down to the park.”
With a nod, she agreed. She changed into a pair of white shorts and a blue tank. They headed out. At the park, they walked alongside the water and admired the view. After a couple of hours, they decided to return to Belinda’s home.
Lance pulled into Belinda’s driveway and parked his car behind hers. Turning to face her, he said, “I had a nice time hanging out with you. Sure you won’t let me come in?” He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth.
“I’m sure. You had an eight-hour surgery earlier today. You need to get home and rest.”
Lance was chief of the Critical Care Unit at Fawcett Memorial. He was proud of that accomplishment considering he had just turned forty years old.
“I could stay here,” Lance suggested with yet another wide yawn. He massaged the back of her neck.
“No. Even though we’re engaged, you can’t spend the night.” Belinda moved his hand. She tilted her head to study him. His eyes had dark circles. He looked exhausted. She wouldn’t like to know Lance got in an accident because she refused to let him stay. He didn’t look as if he could make the thirty-minute ride home. “Come on in, but no funny stuff. Got that? Sleeping only.” She opened the door, already second-guessing her decision. She walked past her car when something got her attention. She squinted. What was that?
Lance stopped. He leaned in. “What’s this all over your car?”
Belinda moved closer and sniffed. Her shoulders slumped that it wasn’t bird poop. She scrunched her nose. It looked like…
“Mustard? Is this mustard on your car? How did this happen?”
Belinda dipped her fingers in the yellow pool. “Yup, it’s mustard.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Who would do this?” Her voice rose. She scanned the deserted neighborhood. “Some idiot kids probably did this as a sick joke.”
“Go get a couple of wet towels. I’ll wipe it off.” He scanned the car. “The pranksters smeared your entire car.”
Belinda reached into her bag and dug for her car keys. She opened the driver side and motioned to Lance. “Get in. I’m going to the car wash. It’s too much for us to tackle right now.” Once they were on their way, Belinda tried to make light of the situation. “Well, these perps managed to accomplish something because I needed to wash my car.”
Lance nodded and closed his eyes. He fell into a light slumber.
Belinda allowed him to sleep. She drove the five miles to the twenty-four hour car wash, pulled up, and swiped her card to pay for the works. She pressed the desired buttons and pulled her car into the covered area. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll be all shiny and clean in no time.” Belinda patted her steering wheel as she talked to her beloved car.
Lance didn’t stir until she was back home and parked in her driveway. He straightened. His eyes widened. “You washed the car already?”
“Sure did.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I was fine. I didn’t even chip a nail washing the car.” Her sarcasm hit its mark.
“I know you’re more than capable, but I wanted to help.”
“Well, I got it done.”
Lance stopped talking when he heard her snarky tone. Smart man. She wasn’t a Barbie doll. In fact, she was quite efficient. But ever since their engagement, Lance had been treating her like a china doll.
Belinda opened her car door and got out. The outside lights were now on.
“Your car looks nice and—”
“Nooooo!” Belinda screamed. She ran her hands over the vehicle. The buttercup yellow was ruined. “The mustard stripped the paint job.” There were blotchy patches where paint used to be. “Who would do this? What sicko did this to my car?” She screeched. “My father bought me this car!”
Lance gestured for her to lower her voice. “Calm down, Belinda.”
She stamped a foot. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Would you be saying this if it were your car? Some fool jacked up my car and I’ll yell if I want to. I don’t care who hears me.”
“Should I call the cops?” Lance pulled out his cell phone.
“What’s the use?” Belinda snorted. “The perpetrators are long gone.” She wrapped her arms about her waist. “I come and go all hours of the night. I’ve never felt so violated.” She looked around the dark area. The pranksters could be out there watching her.
Lance walked around the car and took her hand. “I know you’re shaken. Come to my house. Tomorrow, we’ll get this all sorted out.”
Belinda looked across the well-manicured lawn to the main house where her father lived. Glancing at her watch, she presented another alternative. “I could go to my dad’s house and wait for him there. He’s out on his first date in a million years. But, if I know him, he should be home soon.”
“No, you’re coming with me. I have to get some sleep and I won’t be able to, if you’re here. I’d be too busy worrying about you.”
Belinda complied. She went inside and packed an overnight bag. She called her father and left him a voicemail so he wouldn’t be concerned, informing him about the car and that she would be at Lance’s. Belinda shuddered. What if this wasn’t a prank? What if this was just the beginning?
6
Earlier that day, from her perch behind the palm tree, Monica had poked her head out to make sure Lance and Belinda were gone. She had left Quinn with her nanny, Freda a retired nurse, and drove over to Belinda’s house. On a whim, Monica parked her car in the driveway of an abandoned house with a for-sale sign posted in the yard, and walked the three blocks to Belinda’s.
Once she saw Lance and Belinda, she realized her venture out had been Divine leading. God meant for her to see Lance and Belinda together because she had been stalling. She had dragged out the house hunting for months until Clarendon chose one and moved her about a mile from Lance’s house. For six months, she had vacillated.
Now, Monica acknowledged that if she didn’t claim what was hers, Lance was going to slip through her fingers.
She couldn’t allow that to happen. She needed a Jacob moment. She needed to hold on until she got her blessing.
“Lance is mine,” she said, speaking it into being. Monica walked to the back of Belinda’s house and tested the sliding door. “Locked. Great.” What should she do? Inspiration struck.
Monica ran to her car and drove to Publix supermarket. She sk
immed the aisles for mustard. “Buy-one-get-one free,” she read. That promotion convinced her this was God’s guidance. “Lord, You’re working in miraculous ways,” she laughed. Monica grabbed the jars and went to checkout. Twenty minutes later, she was back at Belinda’s house.
Belinda was going to have a nice surprise when she came home.
Monica snapped her fingers in the air and swung her hips like Bernadette in Waiting to Exhale. She had always wanted to do that.
She entered her car. “I should’ve bought some bottled water.” She fanned herself and put the AC on blast. “I forgot how hot it is here.” She thought of the mustard cooking in the heat and cracked up laughing. Mustard and the sun were not a good combination.
Fifteen minutes later, she was back at home. She could use a cool glass of lemonade. Hopefully, Freda had made some. “Freda? Quinn? Where are you?” she called out.
“In the kitchen,” Freda said.
“Mommy!” Quinn squealed, looking like a little cherub in her sunflower dress. She ran toward Monica with her chunky feet.
Monica’s heart expanded. “I missed you.”
“Low you, Mommy.” Quinn smiled, showing off a row filled with teeth.
“I love you, too, honey.” Monica scooped her daughter into her arms. She placed her face in Quinn’s tummy to give her a raspberry kiss. Quinn squirmed and giggled. Monica did it again. She loved hearing Quinn’s laughter. Monica wrinkled her nose. “Uh-oh, Mommy thinks you made a stinky.” She frowned at Freda who had been wiping the counters.
Freda held out her hands to take Quinn, but Monica shook her head. “I’ve got it. Who knows how long she’s been like this.”
Freda opened her mouth, but Monica held up a hand. “No need to explain.” She lifted her chin and walked toward Quinn’s room.
“I’ll have an ice pop for her when you’re done,” Freda said from behind.
“Ice pop,” Quinn repeated.
Monica’s keen eyes studied the large space painted with pink walls, filled with every toy a little girl could want. There were stuffed bears, dolls and a kitchen play area. Clarendon was generous to her daughter. Monica owed him for that. She nodded with satisfaction. Nothing was out of place, which was just the way Monica liked it.
She placed her daughter on the changing table and tickled her stomach. “You need to start using the potty.” She ripped the plastic tabs and opened the diaper. “Wow.” The odor made her gag. “Quinn, you’re a dangerous secret weapon. I need to tell the FBI about this.”
Monica cleaned Quinn and used her right foot to open the diaper pail. She scrunched her nose. It needed emptying. Monica was about to throw the diaper in with the others, when an idea struck her. “It does need emptying.” She rested the diaper on the changing table.
“Down, Mommy,” Quinn said.
“Oh, sorry honey.” She steadied Quinn’s feet on the floor. The chunky toddler raced back to Freda who was waiting with her ice pop.
Monica picked up the stinky diaper. She tapped her nose. Should she, or shouldn’t she? She shrugged. “You only live once.” She pulled the plastic bag out of the diaper pail, secured the bag with a knot, and grabbed her keys.
“I’m going to empty the garbage then get some frozen lemonade.” She sailed through the door, got her treat and completed her task.
When she returned home, Monica pulled into the driveway and rested her head on the steering wheel. She couldn’t believe she’d just ‘poopified’ someone’s home.
But, what was she saying? God was with her. Whatever she had accomplished today was because of Him. God had led her to both Belinda and Lance’s homes. He showed her what to do and because she followed His leading, she had gotten away with it. No one could fight dirty like God. He used boils, locusts, frogs—and now, mustard and poop to get His point across.
Monica looked at her watch. It was 9:30 p.m., which meant Quinn was fast asleep. Monica entered her home. She would look in on Quinn. But first, she needed to scrub her body clean.
She made her way to her bedroom. Monica lifted her arms and took a sniff. She needed a shower like nobody’s business. She stripped to a pair of red and black polka dot undies she’d bought at Victoria’s Secret and sauntered into her private bathroom. Monica twist-turned her body in the mirror and smiled. She’d lucked out with Quinn. There were no stretch marks on her physique and she looked the same as she did as a teen.
She opened the door to the shower stall and turned on the faucet. The water came out in full force. She knew it would take a few seconds before the water heated. Monica leaned against the door and reflected on her evening antics.
She had expected Lance’s sliding door to be closed but it had slid open with ease. She froze when she saw the alarm system displayed. Fortunately, it was deactivated. Lance, like many in Port Charlotte, used a simple lock-and-key. Although, Monica would have tried the same key code he’d had when they lived together.
Lance was predictable about mundane stuff like that. The bedroom was where he applied all his creative skills. He always managed to rock her world.
Monica stepped in the shower and lathered every inch of her body. She wanted to make sure she removed every trace of her escapade. After she left Lance’s house, she had been afraid to go home. Instead, she drove to Sarasota and cruised by the old apartment she’d once shared with Lance. Still not ready to return home, she took Clark Road to the mall and window-shopped. She left fifteen minutes before the mall closed, figuring it was safe to return home.
Monica rinsed her body clean and stepped out the shower. The microfiber rug felt like a pillow underneath her feet. She grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and dried off. She placed her hands under her nose and sniffed. They smelled like vanilla and apricots.
She walked the few steps to her walk-in closet, turned the light on, and looked around. What was she doing? It was bedtime. She shook her head and turned the light off, went over to her chest and pulled out her Betty-Boop pajama short set.
Monica strolled through the connecting doors to Quinn’s bedroom and picked up the sleeping child. Quinn’s eyes opened. She gave Monica a sleepy smile. Monica didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for awakening her. “Hey, Baby. You know what Mommy did? Mommy went to see Daddy. Soon, he’ll be home. I promise you that. God is helping me, Quinn.”
Quinn yawned and closed her eyes.
“Okay, my princess, get your rest,” Monica uttered in a singsong voice. She placed Quinn back into her crib and went into her bedroom to pray.
“Lord, I thank You for showing me how to claim Lance as my own. Thank You for inspiring me with ideas that will draw me closer to Lance, but also to You. Help me to continue to follow Your leading, and to listen to Your voice. I pray this prayer through Jesus, my Lord and King. Amen.”
Monica got to her feet and slid under her covers with a smile. Today had been a great day.
***
Lance drove home and pulled into his driveway. “Home sweet home.”
Belinda smiled imagining this as both their home very soon. She had decorated it not knowing it was to be her home. She spent a fortune doing so, thinking she was getting back at him.
She grabbed her bag from the backseat. “I’m so tired. I’m going to brush my teeth and get in your bed.”
“My bed?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “All right.”
Belinda held up a hand. “Slow down. I’m sleeping in your room, because you’re sleeping in the guest room.”
“But…”
She laughed and stepped out the car. There was a slight breeze that made her dress sway. “It feels so good out here. I wish Florida felt like this all the time.”
Lance walked up the small path and unlocked his front door. He froze. “What in the world?”
Belinda’s mouth went agape at the sight before her. There were dirty diapers all over the floor. She took a careful step. “Are these what I think they are?”
Lance harrumphed. “Yes.” He held his nose. She followed his gaze. There were
three diapers fastened on his sliding door. Lance went into the kitchen and tore open a drawer to get some household disposable gloves. He grabbed a garbage bag and went over to extract one of the diapers from the glass. “Just what I feared.”
“Don’t tell me that’s…” Belinda trailed off as the unmistakable stench hit her nose.
“Yes. It’s fecal matter.”
“What’s going on here, Lance?” Belinda placed her hands on her hips.
Lance gave her a rigid stare. “There isn’t another woman if that’s what you’re implying. And there hasn’t been for a while. You know me.”
She pursed her lips. “Which is why I’m asking. It’s obvious whoever you’re messing around with knows where I live. Because this is no coincidence that your house gets plastered with poop the same day my car is vandalized.”
“I’m not about to continue this conversation.” He pulled out his cell phone to call the police.
7
“I’m not the least bit surprised,” Sydney said. She lay in bed after her latest bout of sickness. She couldn’t wait to get past this stage.
Noah gave her a pointed look. “Lance is a changed man. I know it and no matter what he’s done in the past, it doesn’t excuse someone baby pooping his house.”
Sydney clutched her stomach and laughed. “I’ve heard of baby-proofing your home. But, this is ingenious. It’s payback, I tell you, and it is sweet.”
Noah looked like he was trying not to laugh. “What happened to him was horrendous. I mean it stinks.”
“Yeah,” Sydney snorted. “It does. Literally.” She cracked up even more. “I wonder if he took a picture.”
“I suppose you see it as the ultimate payback for the man who left you at the altar.” Noah got in bed beside her. “Lance was pretty shaken up.”
“Forgive me if I don’t feel an ounce of regret.” Sydney held her belly and belched.
“Ugh, now that stinks.”
“Sorry.” Sydney rubbed her tummy. “I don’t know what this baby is doing to me.”
Lie to Me Page 3
