Authors: Michelle Larks
Faith (24 page)
It was obvious to Aron as he looked around the lower level of the house, from the clothing, messy table, and crumpled linen lying untidily upon the sofa, that his son-in-law lived in the basement and Monet upstairs. He wondered what could have happened to separate the couple. He hoped they could resolve their issues. It was clear as water to him that the two loved each other. Then he reflected on him and Gayvelle, and how the same could have been said of them.
Marcus led Aron to a small room off the main room of the basement. Aron noticed a pool table and large screen television. A table with a microwave was pushed against one wall, and the large wooden wet bar was on the other wall.
“This must be your hangout,” Aron said.
“Yes, it is. Monet has her office upstairs, and that's where she hangs most of the time.” Marcus adjusted the side of the futon and converted it to a bed. He left the room and went into the laundry room and returned with a couple of pillows, a sheet and blanket. On top of the bedding was a pair of his pajamas.
“Monet bought you some things for the basement apartment, including sleepwear, and they're over at the twins' house. If Duane can't talk Derek into letting you stay there, then we'll go get them over the weekend. In the meantime, you'll have to make do with a pair of my pajamas. I know they're too big for you. Maybe you can roll the arms and legs or something.”
“They will be fine,” Aron said gratefully. “I want to thank you and Monet for opening your home to me, and for picking me up from prison today. I know you didn't have to do that.”
“I did it for Monet,” Marcus simply said. “I'm going to turn in myself. I have to work tomorrow. I'm warning you, Aron, don't do anything to disappoint or hurt Monet. She's a trusting soul, and I don't want you to do anything to break her heart.”
“I won't,” he said fervently, as he shook his head from side-to-side rapidly and held up his hand. “I swear, all I want to do is make up for lost time and get to know my children. I promised Gayvelle that I would.”
“See that you do. Well, goodnight then.” Marcus walked out of the room and made up his own bed for the night, while Aron was in the other room doing the same.
After he laid on the sofa bed, Marcus knew that he was going to have to talk to Aron about the statement he had made earlier regarding Monet's attacker, even if it were a false lead. He grudgingly admitted that Wade was right. And Marcus recalled how he had vowed not to leave any stone unturned.
He made a mental note to talk to his father-in-law over the weekend.
Who knows
, he thought,
maybe the old man might be on to something
.
Who knows
, he thought,
maybe the old man might be on to something
.
Chapter 27
When Marcus returned home from work on Friday, Duane was at the Caldwells' house for the now resurrected monthly Friday night fish fry. The Caldwells' and Harrison's get-together had long since sputtered and died due to the strain in Monet and Marcus's marriage. Monet wanted to celebrate her father's homecoming and introduce her father to her and Marcus's best friends. So the fish fry gathering was resurrected at least one more time.
Monet fried fresh farm raised catfish and prepared a big pot of spaghetti. Liz made potato salad and coleslaw. Marcus found pictures that had been stored in the attic, along with Monet's and the twins' high school and college yearbooks, and placed them on the dining room table. Everyone had a good time, and only Derek was missing. The food was appetizing, and the conversation flowed. Liz gave Monet a thumbs-up sign, signaling her approval of Aron.
On Saturday, Derek still adamantly refused to allow Aron to stay in the garden apartment. So Marcus took Aron to the twins' apartment and collected the clothing and toiletries that Monet had purchased. On the way back home, Marcus took the older man on a tour of the city, and Aron was amazed at the changes that had taken place in Chicago since he'd been locked up. He was awed at how tall the Sears Tower was and the beauty of the Chicago skyline.
Sunday morning, Monet persuaded her father to attend church with her. Monet had stopped driving due to her advancing pregnancy, so Marcus ended up taking father and daughter to church after Duane informed his sister that he wouldn't be attending church services.
Reverend Wilcox preached a rousing sermon. She took her text from the book of Colossians 3:13â17. Sometimes Monet marveled at how Reverend Wilcox always seemed to know when to preach about a situation that weighed heavily on her heart. Her spirit was lighter when Reverend Wilcox ended her sermon.
After the service had concluded, many members stopped by to greet Monet, to inquire about how she was doing, and to marvel at how big she'd gotten. She introduced the members and Reverend Wilcox to her father. Avis, the choir director, asked her to stop by the choir room before she left.
Fifteen minutes later, Monet with Marcus and her father in tow, opened the door to the choir room and was touched and surprised to see the choir members had planned a baby shower for her. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth.
“You shouldn't have,” is how she responded when she saw all the boxes wrapped in attractive shades of pink, yellow, and blue wrapping paper stacked on a table.
Avis put her hands on her hips and replied, “Miss Monet, I know you didn't think we were going to let your blessed event pass by and not acknowledge it. We're family, and family supports family.” She took Monet by the hand and led her to a seat. “We know that you don't have time to open everything.” Avis glanced at Marcus. “If you could open a few for now that would be great.” Marcus nodded that he was okay with the suggestion.
Liz and Reverend Wilcox walked into the room and sat on both sides of Monet, smiling at her encouragingly. Reverend Wilcox brought a wrapped, ornate box with her for Monet.
Tears of happiness slipped down Monet's face. “I'm so overwhelmed. Thank you, everyone.”
Avis handed her five boxes, and Monet quickly opened them. The first box contained a layette set, another contained crocheted blankets, and someone had given her a year's supply of cloth diapers. Reverend Wilcox and the ministry staff gave her a white, lacy christening outfit for the baby.
“I don't know what to say.” Monet wiped the tears off her face. “This is so beautiful. I'm so grateful, and I love you all.”
Twenty minutes later, Monet had opened the last of the five gifts. She talked to Avis and Reverend Wilcox, while Marcus and Wade transported all the boxes to Marcus's SUV.
“Thank you so much. I mean it from the bottom of my heart,” Monet said, sniffling.
“You've gone through a lot of adversity this year and managed to hold fast to your faith,” Reverend Wilcox said. “There are not many people who would have behaved as graciously as you have under the circumstances. I'm so proud of you, and I know your mother would be to. Just hold on, Monet, God is about to send blessings your way. There is no doubt in my heart that nothing but good times lie ahead for you.”
More tears slid down Monet's wet face. She fanned herself. “I'm so emotional, it must be the hormones. I can't stop crying.” She sniffled
“That's okay, Mommy,” Avis teased her.
The women exchanged farewells, and Liz and Monet walked outside to the parking lot.
“I was going to have everyone over to my house for Sunday dinner, but I think your house might be more appropriate. As Faith's godmother, I'd like to help you open the rest of your gifts,” Liz said.
“Are you sure?” Monet asked. “I didn't take anything out for dinner. I made a pound cake yesterday to bring to your house and that was it.”
“Tell you what, Wade and I will swing by our house and bring the food I prepared to your house. Wade had planned on grilling steaks and chicken, he can do that just as easily at your house. Then we can have fun in the nursery.” Liz rubbed her hands together.
“That sounds like a plan. Can you believe next month this time I'll be a mother?” Monet said in awe as she peeped down at her abdomen
“Sure I can. It's been a long time coming, and I know you're going to be a great mother.” Liz patted Monet's back.
“I hope so,” Monet said gravely.
The women walked to their spouses' SUVs, which were parked next to each other, and informed the men of the change of plans. Liz climbed into Wade's vehicle, and Marcus helped Monet into his. They waved good-bye and said they'd see each other shortly.
By the time Liz and Wade arrived at the Caldwells' house, Marcus had already fired up the grill. In no time the steaks and chicken breasts were cooking and their appetizing aroma wafted in the air.
Though it was hot outdoors, a breeze from the huge oak trees on each side of the deck kept everyone cool. Monet was reclining in a chaise lounge; her belly looked like she had swallowed a watermelon. She had set a milkshake on the floor of the large wraparound wooden deck and was listening to a Kirk Franklin sing “Imagine Me” on the boom box that was playing from the kitchen window. Mitzi was in her element, running around the large emerald green, grassy backyard.
Monet wore a pink and white striped sundress, while Liz, Marcus, and Aron wore denim shorts with T-shirts. Monet felt content, and could feel Marcus staring at her from time to time through his dark sunshades. She tried to pretend she didn't notice. She had missed his touch and companionship during her pregnancy. She felt like she had lost her best friend, although he was still living in the house with her. Monet knew that she had to have the patience of Job, because when all was said and done, Marcus would see how wrong he had been. She held on to her faith like a lifeline.
Marcus couldn't stop his eyes from landing on his wife's face and body. And when he gazed at her stomach, his face would darken like thunder clouds and his lips would tighten. He put his feelings aside for the cookout and managed to be a genial host.
Marcus and Wade removed the glass picnic table with a matching striped umbrella and chairs from the garage and set them up on the deck. They drank ice cold sodas while they tended to the meat.
Liz was in the kitchen warming up baked beans and corn on the cob. She also prepared a fruit salad. She hummed along with the songs playing on the boom box as she worked.
Aron was in amazement of all the activity going on around him. He had to give his wife credit; Gayvelle did a wonderful job of raising their children.
The cordless phone on the table next to Monet rang. She glanced at the caller ID and clicked it on. “Hi, Duane, how are you doing? We're outside enjoying the weather, and Marcus and Wade are cooking meat on the grill. Why don't you join us?” She listened for a minute and her face beamed. “Sure, bring Elise with you, we have plenty of food.” She clicked off the telephone. “That was Duane,” she informed everyone. “He and Elise are coming to dinner.”
“In that case, I'll put more meat on the grill,” Marcus said. He reached into the pan and put two more T-bone steaks on the Weber, along with a couple more pieces of chicken.
When Duane and Elise arrived, everyone was eating. The couple prepared heaping plates of food and joined the food fest. The mood was upbeat and jovial. Elise was in her early thirties, and was a pleasant looking woman who always retained a positive outlook on life.
Following the meal, the women opted to go inside the house to the nursery to finish opening the baby gifts and put some of the items away. The men sat in companionable silence for a while.
Marcus stood up and put his and Wade's empty soda cans in the trash. He sat back down and said to Aron, “I've been meaning to ask you about the rumor that you heard in the correctional facility that Monet's attacker may be incarcerated there.”
Aron moistened his lips. “There was a young cat there, not real young though. He looked to be around thirty years old or so, and he hadn't been in the joint too long, who was bragging that he was the one who messed up the policeman's wife. He said he didn't intend to hurt her that bad, but he was high on drugs and things just got out of control.”
“Did you say anything to the officials at the prison?” Wade asked. He had felt drowsy from the food and sun, but now he was alert.
“No. Prison isn't the best place for snitches. I thought I could maybe help from out here,” Aron answered.
“Do you know the man's name?” Marcus asked as his heart rate soared.
Aron said, “I don't know his given name, in the joint they called him Mad Dog. He was a big, tall, dark skinned menacing thing, with a large burn mark across the left side of his face. I didn't want to ask too many questions to call attention to myself, so after I made a few inquiries, I dropped the subject.”
Wade rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don't know why, but that name sounds familiar to me. It should be easy enough for us to get his legal name. We could talk to Smitty about pursuing this lead on Monday.”
Marcus nodded. “I was thinking the same thing, except we could go to the chief ourselves.”
Aron held out his hands, palms up. “I don't know if his story is true or not. We weren't even in the same cell block. I was what you'd call a hell raiser when I was imprisoned. It took a long time before I lost that fighting spirit. I didn't want to seem too interested in what happened to Monet, because I didn't want anyone to know she was my daughter. Had that stuff gone down before I decided to straighten up and fly right, there's no telling what I might have done. I wanted to put a hurting on him like he did my daughter, but I had to do the right thing and try to get the information to the right people,” he remarked diffidently. He stole a glance at Marcus. Aron knew that his son-in-law didn't quite trust him yet, but he hoped in time that he would.
“You made the right decision. Had you acted on your impulses, it probably would have gotten you some additional time,” Wade said astutely.
“He's right,” Marcus added. “If we're lucky, he has a record as long as my arm. And if we can get a DNA match, then Mad Dog will be locked up for a long time.”
“If he's already in prison, wouldn't his DNA already be in AFIS database?” Duane asked. He shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, I watch Forensic Files.”
“It depends on if he's a repeat offender or not. This might be his first time getting caught, and Illinois, like a lot of states, is behind in updating their databases.”
“Got you,” Duane murmured. He leaned over the table, picked up a fork, reached into a platter, and put another chicken wing on his plate. “So do you think the warden would be willing to help you?”
“No doubt,” Wade answered. “Or we may end up working with the sheriff's department. CPD has a good relationship with that group.”
“Would Monet have to testify or anything?” Aron asked. “It seems like she's adjusted well after the attack, but she is pregnant.” He lifted his eyebrows questioningly.
“She will probably be okay with it,” Marcus said hesitantly. In reality, he didn't know what her reaction to the news would be since their relationship had deteriorated so badly.
Duane had finished eating and asked Aron to pass him a toothpick, which he stuck in the side of his mouth. “I think you two should check out this Mad Dog character. If he did the crime, then he has to pay the price and do more time.”
“You won't get an argument from me,” Marcus concurred. “I'm with you on that. Wade and I will talk to our chief on Monday, and get him to buy into us going back to Dwight. We'll see what we can find out.”
“I don't think the chief is going to let you go to the prison, Marcus. He'll probably turn the information over to Smitty and let him run with it,” Wade said. He pushed back his chair and stood up.
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