Faith

by Michelle Larks

  “I hate to break it to you, Aron. You’re not the most popular person in the family right now. Just consider me here to do the pre-screening, and if I approve, you may be in like Flynn. But don’t count on it.” Marcus shifted his body in the uncomfortable chair.

  He continued to interrogate Aron with the masterful skills of the highly successful police detective that he was, and Aron volleyed answers right back at his son-in-law. An hour later, Marcus seemed to lose steam. He looked Aron dead in the eyes and asked him, “Can you give me one good reason why I should convince your family that you’ve learned the error of your ways, and why it would be a good idea for you to meet and stay with them?” He leaned forward in his seat, anticipating the older man’s answer.

  “Because I’m their father,” he answered with quiet dignity. “And every child should know his father.” He bobbed his head and added, “And that’s what Gay would have wanted.”

  Acidic bile rose from Marcus’s stomach to his throat. He stood up abruptly. “Guard, would you let me out!” he yelled, grabbing his jacket and rushing to the door.

  Aron uneasily looked at Marcus retreating, trying to figure what he’d done wrong. Then he shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Wade rose from his seat to follow his friend, but before he could turn from the table, Aron grabbed his shirt sleeve. “What did I do? Was it something I said? I didn’t mean any harm.”

  Wade shook his head, sympathy evident in his demeanor. “This scenario will play out just the way God intends it to. I hope you don’t wish my sister, Monet, any harm.”

  “Sir, I swear I don’t. I just want to make up for years lost.” The guard walked over to Aron and asked him to stand up. Then he snapped the handcuffs around his wrists and led him out of the room.

  Wade kept his eyes honed on Aron, who had turned toward him. He looked at Wade, and whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “Tell my son-in-law that the man who hurt Monet may be here in the prison.”

  Wade’s complexion turned ashen, and he was thrown for a loop by the words Aron had uttered. He hurried out of the room to find Marcus. When he returned to the check-in-points, Marcus was nowhere to be found. Wade’s personal possessions were returned to him, along with his gun. He looked for Marcus as he walked toward the exit. Wade sighed with relief once he was on the outside of the huge complex. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as he thought what a small blessing it was to enjoy the sunlight at one’s own leisure.

  He walked toward the car and found Marcus leaning against the SUV with a sickly look on his face. Marcus clicked the keyless remote control unit, unlocked the car, and both men got in the vehicle. There was silence until Marcus got on the ramp to enter the expressway.

  He pursed his lips pensively, then glanced at Wade and commented, “I’d say he’s a real piece of work. What do you think?”

  “I think he’s a man who’s entered the elderly phase of his life. Time has run out for him. Perhaps, as he said, he’s looking for peace and to right some wrongs in life. This world would be a better place if more people did that. ‘I’m sorry’ would go a long way toward making amends,” Wade answered bluntly. “I didn’t feel that he had any ulterior motives. And I know for a fact from Liz, because Monet told her, that he has tried to contact his children. I guess with you still not talking to Monet, she didn’t tell you about the letters your mother-in-law left Monet and her brothers.”

  Marcus felt embarrassed. The gulf between him and Monet seemed to widen with each passing day. He knew that it was his fault, but he couldn’t find it within himself to remedy the situation. “Hmmm, I didn’t know that. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man who took another person’s life, was abusive toward his wife, and deserted his children.”

  “Whatever happened between Gayvelle and Aron has long since passed. It’s not really our business or concern. I do know from the letters that Monet’s mother left her and the twins that she asked for forgiveness from her children for not allowing Aron to reach out to them when he began straightening up his life. There are always two sides, maybe three, to a story. And if Monet and Duane, we’ll leave Derek out of the equation for now, are willing to talk to their father, then who are we to stop them or pass judgment on Aron?”

  “Well, I don’t trust him,” Marcus said mulishly. His jaw tightened, and the vein on the side of his head throbbed nonstop.

  “Could it be that you’re feeling a little guilt right now, and taking those feelings out on your father-in-law?” Wade prodded. “In Monet’s mind, she may think you’re not treating her correctly. That’s why it’s best not to judge another person harshly, because you may have to walk in their shoes one day. And we have all fallen short at some time or another and depended on God’s mercy and forgiveness, and that includes Aron too.”

  The sunlight seemed to bounce off the gray asphalt road. Marcus reached in the cup holder and put his black Ray Ban wrap-around sunglasses on his face. When he was done, he said, “Okay, I get your point.”

  “Anyway, you left in such a hurry that you missed the surprise that Aron dropped,” Wade said. He had debated with himself whether he should say anything to Marcus, but knew his friend would never forgive him if he didn’t.

  “What was that?” Marcus peered at Wade, puzzled. Then he looked back at the road ahead of him.

  “Aron said he may know who assaulted Monet, and implied the person was inside the prison.”

  Marcus’s mouth drooped open, then he frowned and snapped his lips together. He glanced at Wade, and the car swerved a bit before he gained control of it. “Come on, man, don’t fall for that. You know what they say about cons; you can only trust half of what they say.”

  “This con happens to be your wife’s father, and he had nothing to gain by revealing that information,” Wade said mildly.

  “I disagree with you, Wade. He could be just trying to get in good with the family. Score some brownie points,” Marcus argued.

  “Then again, he could be telling the truth. He didn’t say that he verified the information. He just said that he heard the person who might have assaulted Monet was on the inside. What kind of man or father would he be if he didn’t tell you that? I’m just saying it’s something Smitty might want to check out,” Wade suggested patiently.

  “No, I’d like to check it out myself, so I’d have the pleasure of telling Aron how wrong he was,” Marcus replied venomously.

  “Well, I’m not going to sweat it because I know the chief isn’t going to let you get involved. I just felt I should tell you what Aron said. Did you ever get around to talking to Reverend Wilcox? If you did, how did that go?” Wade changed the subject.

  “It went as expected. The good Reverend gave me her spiel on life from a spiritual perspective, and how I should feel blessed, even though my wife is carrying the child of a rapist.”

  “I’m sure that’s not what Reverend Wilcox said.” Wade shook his head. “I know your talk with her was a little more detailed than that.” He checked his cell phone for messages.

  “Reverend Wilcox suggested I take a few counseling sessions with her or someone on the job. I informed her politely that I didn’t need to talk to anyone, nor did I want to listen to someone telling me how I should react to a situation they know nothing about. Say, there’s bottled water in a cooler in the back on the floor. Would you get me one?”

  Wade unbuckled his seatbelt and reached in the backseat and removed a twelve ounce plastic bottle of spring water. He unloosened the cap and handed the bottle to Marcus, then said, “You know that you’re making the ordeal tougher than it needs to be. When all you have to do is—”

  “I know what I have to do according to you, Liz, Reverend Wilcox, and Monet . . . let go, and let God handle it. That seems to be the universal cure for whatever ails Christians,” Marcus said.

  “My granny used to say a hard head makes a soft behind,” Wade said solemnly. “And she was correct. I just pray your words don’t come back to haunt you one day, or you’ll find yourself in the
same predicament as your father-in-law.”

  “If I find out that I was wrong about anything regarding Monet’s child, then I’ll get down on my knees and beg her forgiveness. Heck, I’ll apologize to the entire church. But I’m one hundred percent sure it won’t come to that.” Marcus threw back his head and laughed.

  “You’d better start working on that speech then,” Wade said soberly. “We all care for you, and hate to see you like this; sullen, moody, and distant from your wife. Liz and I will continue to pray for you as we always have.”

  “How about we agree to disagree about the way I’m handling my problems? I’m hungry, let’s stop at the next exit and get something to eat?” Marcus suggested as he changed from the left exit to the right. Within minutes he pulled into a gas station/restaurant parking lot.

  “You go ahead and get a table. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m going to call Liz and tell her we’re on our way back and what time she can expect us back in Chicago,” Wade said, pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.

  “Sure, just lock up the car when you get out,” Marcus said as he opened his door and went inside the restaurant.

  Wade called Liz and relayed the information. She notified her husband that she was at Monet’s house, and would stay there and they could ride home together since Marcus had picked Wade up from their house on the way to Dwight that morning. Liz didn’t ask Wade any details about the visit.

  Wade got out of the car and pressed the button to lock all the doors. Then he walked into the restaurant. Marcus was sitting at a table and waved Wade over.

  Several hours later, the men were stuck in rush hour traffic a few miles from the Caldwells’ residence. Finally, Marcus turned into the alley and parked the SUV inside the garage. Before he could put the key in the lock, Liz opened the door. Marcus and Wade walked into the house. Liz returned to her seat, and Monet was sitting at the table eating strawberries. The television was turned to Judge Mathis.

  Wade walked over to Liz and kissed her on the cheek. Marcus and Monet looked at each other warily. Then Marcus nodded his head.

  “Hello, Marcus,” she said. “I called Duane and Derek and asked them to come over. They should be here any minute. There was no need in you going over what happened at the prison multiple times.” Then she popped a strawberry inside her mouth.

  “Something smells good in here,” Wade observed. He looked at the stove and at the two women. “Who cooked?”

  “Liz made oxtail stew and homemade biscuits. She’s been here all afternoon spoiling me rotten. And I’ve loved every minute of it.” Monet mugged.

  “I enjoyed spending the day with Nay-Nay. She’s spoiled me enough in the past; it was fun to give back to her.” Liz smiled.

  The doorbell chimed, the tones pealed throughout the house. “That’s probably Duane and Derek. I’ll let them in,” Monet said, and started to rise from her seat.

  “No, you stay there, I’ll get it,” Wade offered as he looked at Marcus, who was still standing next to the cabinet. Marcus shrugged his shoulders. Wade walked out of the room to the front door.

  “Marcus, this is your house, why don’t you have a seat?” Liz suggested. “I hope you don’t plan on standing up during the entire time everyone is here.”

  “No, I don’t. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to run downstairs to the basement.” He left the room, and when he returned, Duane and Derek were in the kitchen greeting everyone. Duane asked Marcus how he was doing, and he replied fine.

  “Since this is a family matter, I think Wade and I should go home,” Liz announced, and Wade nodded his agreement. Then the two of them left.

  Derek sat at the table while Duane prepared bowls of the oxtail stew for him and Monet and heated the biscuits in the oven. Marcus informed his family that he would discuss his visit to prison after dinner. Marcus and Derek filled their bowls with steaming stew, and everyone’s bowls were cleaned in no time while everybody chatted about inconsequential matters. Marcus, Derek, and Duane returned to the stove for second helpings.

  After everyone had finished eating, Duane poured himself more lemonade. Then he took a deep breath and said to Marcus, “What happened in Dwight?”

  “First off, Wade and I met with the warden and correctional officer, and then later we met your father.” He looked at Duane, Derek, and then Monet, and then continued speaking. “I know you want to know my impression of him, and I can say that he seems to be contrite about how things went down in the past, and of course he wants to meet you. And he’s also looking for someplace to stay after he leaves prison.”

  “Did he seem to be reformed to you?” Duane asked. “That’s my biggest concern.”

  “I’m a little bit more cynical than Wade is, and I tend to take a wait and see attitude. Wade, on the other hand, thinks your father was sincere, and the guards who work closely with him think he’s ready to enter society. The head warden mentioned there were problems when Aron initially came to the prison. He was somewhat unruly, fighting and that kind of stuff. He admitted Aron had settled down and become a model prisoner.” Marcus got down to the nitty-gritty.

  The siblings contemplated his observations. Then Monet asked her husband, “Do we look like him?” Her chin rested on her arm that was propped on the table. “From what I can tell from the pictures Momma saved of our father, it appears we favor him more than her.”

  Marcus nodded his head. “Yes, between your parents, his were the dominant genes, and he passed them to you three.”

  Derek rolled his eyes upward and muttered, “Just what I wished for when I was growing up, to look like a convicted murderer.”

  Monet and Duane frowned at their brother. Marcus made a decision not to mention Aron’s comment about Monet’s attacker being in jail until his tip could be checked out.

  “I think this would be a good time to discuss Dad’s living arrangements,” Duane suggested. He turned toward his sister and asked, “Nay-Nay, do you have anything sweet to snack on?”

  Monet nodded her head. “There’s always ice cream in the freezer and fresh fruit.”

  “Well, he’s not coming to stay with us,” Derek announced. He looked at his brother challengingly, like he was spoiling for a fight.

  “I don’t see why not. He’s our father,” Duane protested.

  “Why can’t he stay with Monet and Marcus since they have more room than we do?” Derek looked at Monet, and then at his brother-in-law.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, given the issues we have going on in this house,” Marcus said, sharing his thoughts.

  “If we won’t take him in, then where will he go?” Monet asked.

  “He’ll have to stay someplace, like a half-way house,” Marcus said. He stood up and began putting the bowls and utensils in the sink.

  “Hmmm, I don’t think we want that,” Monet said thoughtfully. Faith began kicking again. She rubbed her abdomen in circular motions, and the baby stopped her movements.

  “What do you suggest then?” Derek asked. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

  “I thought he could stay in your garden apartment,” Monet said, as she wrung her hands together nervously. She looked at Derek to gauge his reaction to her suggestion.

  “I don’t think he should stay anywhere where he can come and go as he pleases. He needs to live somewhere where someone can keep an eye on him.” Derek explained his rationale. “That’s why he should stay here. At least we know he won’t try anything shady, knowing that a policeman lives in the house.” He put his hand on the back of his head.

  “Actually, I agree with Monet. I think the garden apartment would be a good solution for all of us. We don’t know what type of elements he’ll associate with once he gets out, and whoever they are, they shouldn’t be around Monet,” Marcus stated.

  “So, it’s all right if me and Duane put our lives on the line?” Derek whined.

  “Keep in mind we’re talking about a sixty-seven-year-old man. He wasn’t a mas
s murderer or anything. Outside of the murder conviction, your dad’s previous record consists of petty crimes, nothing that sends up a red flag,” Marcus said, trying to be fair. Plus, he didn’t want to get stuck with Aron staying at their house.

  “What do you think, Duane?” Monet asked. “You’ve been quiet.” She rose and poured herself a glass of milk, then put a handful of strawberries in a napkin and sat back down at the table.

  Duane had been following the conversation thoughtfully, and he spoke with candor. “I think Dad’s staying with me and Derek would be the obvious choice. Between the two of us, we can keep an eye on him. Momma’s letters didn’t seem to indicate an impending danger, and we know that she would have known and said something to us in the letters.”

  “I swear I’m always outnumbered in this family,” Derek groused with an unpleasant tone in his voice. “Okay, I guess he can stay with us. But any hint of trouble, he’s out and on the street.”

  “Fair enough.” Marcus nodded. “I’ll get in touch with the proper authorities, and get the ball rolling.”

  “How soon will he be released?” Monet asked as she pulled the stem off a strawberry and dunked it in the milk. The men’s eyes followed her actions, and they shook their heads.

  “In a month,” Marcus stated. “That’s why we needed to have this discussion now.”

  Duane stood up and put the bowls and utensils in the dishwasher and wiped off the counter so his sister could relax.

  Derek rose and pointed at Duane. “We need to get going as soon as Suzy Homemaker finishes his chores. I need to make a stop before we go home. So hurry up, bro.”

  Monet clumsily got out of her chair. Marcus did a double take when he saw how large her stomach had grown. He looked angry. “Goodnight everyone, I’m going to call it a day.” He walked downstairs to the basement.

  Duane shook his head sadly, then he, Monet, and Derek walked to the front door. Monet bade them goodnight, locked the door, and set the alarm. She turned off the lights in the living room and kitchen.