“You look nice,” Noah said in a low, sensual tone.
She wore a coral-colored blouse with white jeans. Sydney had been too tired to change her clothes, shower and dress for bed. Instead, she’d ditched her sandals, plopped on top of the covers and fell asleep.
His eyes scanned her body, reminding Sydney it had been two weeks since they’d been intimate. He pierced her with a heated gaze.
Sydney saw the pain and longing reflected in his eyes. She wanted him, too. Her body reminded her just how much. She pushed passed Noah, brushing against his body in the process. She got a whiff of the ocean scent he wore and inhaled.
Noah pulled her close. His breath against her ear made her insides do somersaults. “I miss you.” He whispered and kissed her earlobe. “Please come back to our bed. We’ll work this out.”
Sydney’s heart softened at his plea. She wanted to reconnect with her husband. She missed being snuggled under his warmth.
Noah touched Sydney’s still-flat stomach. Her stomach clenched. He moved his hand in circular motions.
Sydney pushed his hands away. “How can you ask me to get rid of our child?” She squeezed her eyes shut to keep tears from falling.
Noah lifted her chin and made her look at him. “I did this. I’m the carrier.” He gritted his teeth. “Have you ever been around a person with Down syndrome?” His chest heaved.
Sydney shook her head.
He pointed to his chest. “I have. I know what it’s like being around people with Down’s,” Noah revealed. “It’s a lot of work. It is a lifetime responsibility.”
Her brows furrowed. “How do you know this? You speak as if you know.”
He opened his mouth to say something before bunching his lips together.
What wasn’t he telling her? Sydney licked her lips. “I’m grown and I still need my parents. I don’t see the big deal. When you become a parent, it never ends… Not from what I’ve seen anyway.” She stepped back. “And, you didn’t answer my question. Why do you speak as if you know people with Down’s personally?”
Noah appeared to struggle over telling her something. He took her hand, led her into the living room and turned on the small lamp on one of the end tables. He studied the incandescent light for a few moments.
“Noah, say something,” Sydney pleaded. “I love our baby already. I see this child as a gift from God and the result of our love for each other.” She touched her chest. Her heart hurt that her husband would consider an abortion. But, she loved him enough to listen.
Noah lowered his head. “I know I seem harsh, but I’m keeping it real. I don’t want to subject you to that life, Sydney. I don’t even know if I can handle it… again.”
Sydney was so angry with him. She’d missed the soft ‘again’ at the end of Noah’s statement. She glared. “You preach that God doesn’t give us anything we can’t bear. I didn’t take you for a hypocrite. You were the one who urged me to forgive Lance and Belinda when they both betrayed me. You urged me to give my mother a second chance when she lied and said my father was dead. You pounded in me that no one is perfect and yet, now, you would want to…” Sydney covered her face in her hands and sobbed. Noah came over with a tissue. She shrugged him off. He rested the box on her lap.
“You would want me to get rid of our child because it isn’t perfect?” Her body shook from her tears. “I don’t get it. I just don’t understand.” She snatched a couple tissues, wiped her face and blew her nose. She was all cried out.
Noah’s shoulders slumped. “Lord, why are you testing me like this? Why won’t you take this choice out of my hands?”
Sydney’s chest heaved. “How can you pray for such a thing? We aren’t teenagers. We have the money. We have people who love and care for us who will help. I could see if we weren’t in a position to care for this child, but…” She stood. “You owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t want the stares and the sympathy. I don’t want the platitudes and God knows best speeches.” He held out his hands. “I want a normal, healthy child.”
Her lips quivered. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you that.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
She bent her head. Her curls covered her face and her shame. “Yes, you did.”
Noah moved swiftly and crushed his lips to hers. Tears streamed down her face and Noah tasted the salty drops. Sydney felt they needed to communicate without words. She returned her husband’s kiss with a fire of her own and allowed him to take her into their bedroom.
Their union was passionate and fierce. Come morning, they would still be at odds. For now, they would find peace. Her underwear ripped under his hands. She rode the waves with him until they found release. It wasn’t until Noah snored beside her that his previous words chilled her being.
She squinted. Wait a minute. Again. What had Noah meant by again?
12
“I feel for you,” Lance said. “But, you do know it’s only a possibility, right? The diagnosis is not a certainty until birth.” Lance emphasized his words with his physician tone. He sat with Noah on one of the benches in the locker room at the YMCA. Noah had called him about six-thirty that morning to meet up at the gym.
The two had completed a strenuous workout, followed by a brutally competitive basketball game. They dripped with sweat before calling a truce.
Noah confided to Lance about Sydney’s pregnancy scare. He said he’d been praying and hoping for a miracle in the form of a miscarriage. “Why would God give man the knowledge to find these things out, if we can’t do anything about it?”
Lance cleared his throat. “Have you, considered…early termination?”
Noah looked Lance in the eyes. “I could lie and pretend to be shocked at that suggestion, but I’m not that kind of man. I’m not going to give a holier-than-thou speech, but I’ll give you my true human reaction.” He jutted his jaw. “I have. I have thought about it quite a bit.”
Lance’s eyebrows rose. He was genuinely shocked. Though he’d asked the question, Lance hadn’t been prepared for that honest answer. He leaned forward. “You have?” Lance squinted. “But…”
“I know,” Noah lifted a hand. “You must be disappointed at my lack of faith, but I do have feelings. Being a minister doesn’t give me automatic immunity. If anything, it intensifies my emotions. I’ve been calling myself all kinds of names—Sydney rightfully called me a hypocrite—because I don’t know where my faith in God rests at the moment.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I’m struggling because I can’t see what God is doing here. I know He has a plan and a purpose, but why? Why would he even put me in this situation?” Noah wiped sweat beads off his forehead.
Lance reached into his gym bag and tossed Noah an extra bottle of water. Lance didn’t know how to respond. Noah was the expert on God. He squirmed in his seat. If Noah was questioning God’s motives, then where did that leave him?
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you like this. I don’t want your faith wavering because I have my doubts.”
Lance’s eyes narrowed. Noah was doing that mind-reading thing again. Lance didn’t know how Noah did that.
Well, he did. It was the Holy Spirit at work, because Noah had figured him out within minutes of meeting him. Lance ended up telling Noah things about his father and his childhood that nobody knew.
As a matter of fact, it was because of Noah that Lance and Belinda were now engaged. Lance spoke sincerely. “Noah, I hate to see you struggling. It does make me afraid because, frankly, I look to you for guidance. But, I know you’re a man of God and He knows best.” Lance crooked his head. “What does Sydney have to say?”
Noah’s shoulders sagged. “She’s disappointed in me. She’s willing to take her chances on this baby.”
“You mean she’s willing to take her chances on God,” Lance added. He patted Noah on the back. Lance wasn’t one who displayed emotion, especially with other men, but he loved Noah. Noah had led Lance to Christ and taught him God’s word
. He respected Noah immensely.
“I hope you haven’t lost respect for me.”
Lance chuckled. “You did it, again. You know that? You read my mind. I was just thinking about how much I respect you. Today’s conversation only showed me you’re human like the rest of us.”
“Oh, I’m definitely human…and scarred …and imperfect.” Noah shifted. “Enough about me. Have there been any more incidents?”
Lance shuddered. “No. Thank God. I think the perpetrator has moved on and the cops agree. They ended their patrol and things should get back to normal.” He looked at his watch and stood. “Which reminds me, Belinda and I are going cake testing. I’d better go home and take a shower.”
“I’m glad to hear this is all behind you.”
“Not more than me,” Lance chuckled. “I’m so ready to make Belinda my wife. I don’t know how Jacob waited fourteen years for Rachel, because I’m having a rough time.”
Noah nodded. “I understand. Remember I was single and celibate for years. Exercise helps.”
Lance patted his stomach. “One good thing is I’ll have rock solid abs by the time we’re married.” The men shared a laugh, but once Lance was in his car, he groaned. “Lord, I need a wife. I’m definitely not like Paul. My spirit is willing but my flesh is rising up on me.” Someone could fry an egg on him, that’s how hot he was for Belinda. Lance started his car. After they were done with cake tasting, Lance would see if she would give him a little taste of something else.
13
“Whoosh…” Monica exhaled. She looked upwards, “Thank you, Lord.” Dressed in all black with a small backpack, Monica entered Lance’s home. Since the cops had backed off, she could get back to what God had for her to do.
She had used the sliding door again—which Lance still left unlocked—to enter Lance’s home. This time, however, the alarm had been activated. Though her heart raced against her chest, Monica had taken a chance on Lance’s predictability. She punched in the same code from when they lived together, and to her relief, it worked. The chirp ended abruptly and left the rest of the house in total silence…
Monica took her bag off her shoulders and dug inside for the tiny article she had placed inside. She walked into the kitchen and dumped all the contents onto the counter.
“Aha!” She grabbed the garment and the small vial of olive oil she kept in her purse.
“The tags.” She snapped her fingers. She’d almost forgotten to remove them. Monica pulled open drawers and slammed them shut until she found the kitchen scissors. “Bingo!” Her voice boomed through the house. She looked around, then scolded herself. “Girl, you’re tripping. There’s no one here, but you and Jesus. Relax.”
Monica cut the tags off and threw them in the trash. Tucking the items into her rear pocket, she traipsed into Lance’s bedroom.
Her eyes took in the cream-colored duvet. She had to feel that against her skin. Monica took off her shoes and got into the bed. The soft sheets settled around her frame. She could lay here forever. She was meant to be here. She snapped her fingers. She had a job to do and couldn’t get sidetracked.
Monica got up and moved to straighten the bed. She bit her lip. She’d leave it rumpled like that. She retrieved the clothing and placed it peekaboo style under the covers.
Monica looked at her watch. She knew Lance kept odd hours, so there was no way of knowing when he would come home. That heightened her excitement, but she had to remain wise. God called fools but He didn’t keep them and Monica wanted to be kept. She was almost out the door when she stopped short.
How could she forget?
Monica shook her head and strode back to Lance’s bedroom. She slipped to her knees to acknowledge the One who was leading her. Asking God’s blessing on breaking-and-entering was ironic, but her mission superseded man’s laws. She took the olive oil out of her pocket, unscrewed the cap and poured a few drops of olive oil on the sheets.
She closed her eyes. “Lord, I thank You for guiding me. I know You are with me.” She lifted her hands. “Through the name of Jesus, I claim this house. I claim this man, and I claim this bed. Hallelujah.” Tears rolled down her face. “I know You’ll work everything out for my good. Your word says it and I believe it. Amen.” She opened her eyes.
A car door slammed. Monica froze. She wasn’t certain if it was Lance or the next-door neighbor, but she had to leave. Monica grabbed her bag and stuffed everything inside then hurried to reactivate the alarm. Heart racing, she scurried through the sliding door.
Once outside, she clutched her chest. It was the neighbor she’d heard. Thank goodness. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t dawdle. Moving as fast as the rabbits that roamed the area, Monica sped the few blocks to her car and drove home.
She hummed, wondering how long it would be before Lance discovered the surprise she’d left for him. Monica wished she could be there to see his face. She rubbed her hands together as she pictured Lance’s response. She hoped he felt the presence of God as strong as she had.
Clarendon had taught her well. A person couldn’t live with a preacher for almost two years and not grow spiritually. Monica had developed her relationship with God and He inspired her.
What happened in Lance’s house had been a spiritually fulfilling experience. She had reclaimed what was rightfully hers and demanded what the devil stole from her be returned. That’s why she’d anointed the sheets. That bed was now sanctified and set apart for her and Lance’s holy union when they became man and wife.
Now, all she could do was wait. Wait for further instructions.
14
Lance frowned.
He stood by the edge of his bed and scanned the rumpled sheets. He strode into the kitchen to scrutinize the calendar on the refrigerator. Merry Maids had come today. He eyed the counter and looked to see if the envelope he’d placed by the coffee pot was gone. It was.
He scratched his head. Unless, they had forgotten to make his bed… “That’s weird.” Lance returned to his bed for a closer inspection. He leaned forward and noticed greasy stains on his sheets. “What the—” Lance squelched the profanity on the tip of his tongue.
He squinted. “Is that oil? I can’t tell.” He gritted his teeth and called Merry Maids. There was no answer at that hour. He left a scathing message. Lance clenched his fists. They were going to buy him new sheets.
In one swift, powerful tug, Lance ripped the sheets off his bed. As they fell in a pile at his feet, a red and black fabric caught in eye. Lance bent over to look. His mouth opened. “I don’t believe this… In my bed… That’s disgusting.”
Lance went to get a pen from one of his end tables. He used the tip to pick up the slight fabric. It was a thong. Lance winced at the visual images of what must have transpired in his bed. He tossed the garment on top of the sullied sheets and retrieved a large garbage bag and gloves. He stuffed his hands into the gloves and swooped everything in the bag. Good thing tomorrow was garbage day, because he was going to dump the sheets and the bed. Lance knew he wouldn’t sleep in that bed again.
Thirty minutes later, Lance had everything on his front lawn. He washed his hands. It was up to sanitation now. He didn’t consider that this incident could be tied to the previous two. All Lance knew was he was going to fire the cleaning crew and call Haverty’s to order a new bedroom set.
He settled into his guestroom, called Belinda and told her about the adventure with his bed.
“I paid good money for them to deliver it tomorrow,” he said.
“I don’t think it’s the cleaning service, Lance. I think it’s the same woman. Someone isn’t happy we’re together.”
Lance crossed his legs. “Belinda, this isn’t an episode of CSI. It’s everyday life, and this just doesn’t happen.”
“If I had to venture a guess, I would say it’s Monica.”
“She’s in Atlanta. I told you.”
“Are you sure?”
Lance had a moment of doubt. “I’ll do a little snooping around.” He changed
the subject. “What are we reading tonight?”
“Let’s read the history of David and Goliath.”
“Okay, let me get my Bible from my bedroom.” Lance got out of bed and walked to his bedroom. He frowned. His Bible was not on his nightstand. Lance scanned the bedroom. Where was it? He put the phone on speaker and rested it on his nightstand while he searched the area. “I can’t find my Bible.”
“Don’t tell me the cleaning crew got religion and stole your Bible.”
Lance ignored her sarcasm. He took the phone off speaker and went to look in the kitchen and in his car. He couldn’t find it anywhere. “Who would steal a Bible?”
“Maybe someone who really needed to hear from God,” Belinda teased.
“This isn’t funny. Noah gave me that Bible. It’s engraved with my name on it.” Lance clenched his fists. He felt…violated. A thought occurred. “Maybe I left it at church.”
“But, you had it last night.”
Lance shook his head. He felt he was stuck inside an episode of the Twilight Zone. “I don’t understand what is happening lately. From when we started planning the wedding…”
“Are you saying marrying me is causing you this bad luck?” she asked with attitude.
“I’m not saying that,” Lance shot back. An instant headache formed. He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Marrying you is all I think about. We have our counseling session tomorrow. I’ll ask Noah if he’s seen my Bible.”
“But you used—”
Lance cut her off. “Just humor me. Tomorrow, I’ll begin to get to the bottom of this. Let’s get our devotions done. Please.”
Belinda acquiesced and Lance went through the motions. Once he was off the phone, Lance admitted he had fibbed. His stomach churned thinking about all these crazy incidents. The last time he’d seen crazy like this, Sydney had been fighting for her life. Lance was dealing with a psycho, and there was only one woman who came to mind. Monica.
Lie to Me Page 6
