Authors: Michelle Larks
Faith (12 page)
Monet came downstairs when Liz was putting the ingredients in a skillet. “You put on coffee, bless you,” she said. She had on a pair of sea blue pajamas, with matching bedroom slippers on her feet. She took a cup out of the cabinet, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat at the kitchen table.
“Did Marcus call you?” Liz asked as she put a skillet on the stove.
“No. I called his cell phone, but he didn't answer. When he's ready to talk, he'll call me,” Monet said wearily.
Liz turned the burner under the skillet to low. The aroma of the diced potatoes wrecked havoc in both Liz and Monet's stomachs.
“That smells good.” Monet inhaled. “I wasn't really that hungry, but I am now. I'll put plates on the table while you finish cooking.”
Minutes later the women were eating at the table. Monet blessed the food, and they began digging into their breakfast.
Liz wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Girl, I'm stuffed, I can't eat another bite.”
Monet pushed her seat back from the table and giggled. “Me either. I haven't had an omelet in a long time.”
“Wade loves my omelets. We have them at least twice a month,” Liz boasted.
“As well he should. I remember my momma telling me the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. She would make me stay in the kitchen until I perfected the dishes she taught me to cook.” Monet had a faraway look in her eyes as she reflected on the past.
“I think I told you I had one of those mothers who couldn't cook. My dad was the cook in the family,” Liz said after she sipped some orange juice. “I'm glad to see a little bit more life in your face. You had me worried last night.”
“I guess I'm settling down a little.” Monet nervously twisted a curl around her finger. Her eyes were clear and focused, although she appeared a little tired, no doubt due to the stress of the situation.
“Good. You know I'm here for you, and I think I can speak for Wade too. You have a difficult road to travel, but I know in my heart,” Liz put her hand over her chest, “that you're going to be fine. Marcus may take a different leg of the journey, but I believe the two of you are going to meet at a juncture in the road, and then travel together again.”
“Thanks, Liz; you always seem to know the right thing to say. That's what I love about you as a sister/friend.” Monet smiled a bit.
“Girl, I got your back, right behind the Lord. You and my goddaughter are going to be fine. I know you're missing your mother too.”
Monet nodded. “This breech with Marcus would be easier to endure had she been around. I know she's up there in heaven being my biggest cheerleader.” Her voice broke abruptly. She put a hand over her damp eyes, and then cleared her throat.
“It'll be okay,” Liz said forcefully, as she grabbed Monet's hand. “Father in heaven, I thank you for allowing us to see another day. You woke us up clothed in our right mind, ready to do your will. We ask, Lord, that you guide us, and keep my sister-girl safe in your loving arms. Father, some burdens we have to turn over to you because it's beyond our scope of understanding, so we leave Marcus's burdens in your hands. Lord, help Monet to realize she's not alone. Wade and I are here for her, and most of all, you are. Father, give us strength and keep us safe as we go about the day.”
“Amen,” Monet said. “I guess the Lord knew what He was doing when He made us prayer partners this year. We haven't been prayer partners,” Monet counted on her fingers, “for five years.”
“That's true. We were so upset when Reverend Wilcox instructed us to switch partners on an annual basis back then. Her reasoning was that we could best serve others more effectively if we rotated. Then this year when she assigned us to each other, I was ecstatic. Who would have thought how much we'd need each other now?” Liz didn't wait for Monet to answer, she continued speaking. “One thing I can say about the Lord, He always steps in right on time,” Liz sat back down in her chair. “Everything in life happens for a reason.”
“You know, you might be onto something there. You know who I really miss having in my life outside of my momma, Liz?” Monet said to her friend.
“Who's that?” Liz queried.
“My daddy. You know I never knew my father.” Monet looked away from Liz. “I never told you this. Instead I told you my father was dead. I guess I was a little ashamed to tell anyone the truth. Still, I knew the day would come when I'd have to tell you the truth. I just didn't imagine it would be today.” Monet sighed, then she looked at Liz's face. “Daddy left my momma when I was five years old and the twins were two. I have vague memories of him, and I sense that we weren't close. I wasn't a daddy's girl; my heart always belonged to Momma. I think he had an issue with me because of my gift.
“When the twins and me became older, we heard rumors in town that Daddy had gotten himself into some kind of trouble, and Mama never really explained what happened. When the boys hit their teen years, they missed having a father figure, and Derek became somewhat rebellious. I don't think he ever recovered from not having a dad to raise him. I wish I knew why Daddy left home. Although he was never very affectionate with me, I remember him always staring at me with a baffled look on his face. When I was in college, I became obsessive about trying to analyze our relationship, but then eventually let it go.”
Liz nodded. She knew there had to be a mystery regarding Monet father's departure. Her friend would talk endlessly about her mother, but never about her father.
Monet had a haunted look on her face as she nibbled her lower lip. “At one time I thought maybe my mother had an affair and had me outside the marriage. But when I look at pictures of my father, I see my own face. So I knew that wasn't it. Then one day I got my courage up and asked my mother what had happened? Why didn't my father like me?”
“Oh, Nay-Nay, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But you know the events we experience in life make us stronger,” Liz commiserated soothingly.
“I know that now, but I couldn't accept it years ago.” Monet shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “I had to grow spiritually before I could understand my parents' unique relationship. It was different from everyone else's I knew.”
“You know most of us don't know what goes on behind closed doors. Sometimes we only see what people want us to see,” Liz added.
“Then I got it in my mind that maybe Momma wasn't my mother, and I was my father's outside child. Boy did I struggle with that one.” Monet shrugged her shoulders. “Especially since I didn't look like her. My mother was very dark in complexion, and I used to say, how could someone her color have a child my color? It was too confusing.”
“Well, that wasn't true, was it?” Liz asked. When Monet didn't respond, Liz repeated the question.
Chapter 14
“No, it wasn't true.” Monet shook her head from side to side. “I think I was almost eighteen years old before I got up enough courage to ask my mother why my father didn't care for me. Can you guess what she said?”
“Well, don't keep me in suspense,” Liz said, her head resting on her hand.
“One of the reasons my father left was because I was a spooky child. I overheard him telling my mother that. I sensed his distaste. He went on to say that he thought I was possessed or something. I remember him saying that like it was yesterday. On some level I know it was because of my struggle trying to learn to cope with the gift. My mother said that I was a moody child because of the voices in my head. It wasn't until I was older and saved that I was able to discern voices of people in my head from God's voice. Momma told me that would eventually happen, and it did.
“I didn't talk until I was almost three years old. It seemed, at an early age, I would sense or dream about events that happened, and it must have frightened me. My mother explained what was happening to me when I was around seven years old. My father and my mother were having their own issues too, as I later found out.”
“If you got the gift from your mother, and it was passed down from mother to daughter for generations, how did your dad deal with your mother's gift?” Liz asked, perplexed.
“Momma told me that he didn't really know about it when they got married. He knew there was something a little different about her, but as long as she cooked and kept the house clean, he didn't probe too deeply. Momma told me that she would just keep to herself until the voices stopped talking in her head. I think that's why I haven't made a big deal out of Marcus not supporting me. This gift can put a terrible strain on a marriage,” Monet said.
“And you didn't want the same thing that happened to your mother to happen to you, and you did what you were taught by your mother.” Liz nodded, as she filled in the blanks.
“You got it,” Monet said. “Because I didn't talk until I was older, my cousins later told me that my daddy thought I was deaf and dumb. That made me more determined not to allow my gift to interfere with my marriage, or that's what I thought at first, until I realized that God is in control and not me. I've tried to talk to Marcus about the voices I get from people and God's voice speaking to me, but he wasn't hearing me.”
“That's too bad. I imagine experiencing those feelings and sensations can take a toll on you,” Liz said.
“I look at the gift as a family inherited ministry from God. Most of the women in my family view it that way. My mother used her gift as a midwife, and like her, I chose to work with newborn babies. Some of my relatives healed through herbs they grew that helped people recover from injuries. Others have worked in the medical field as nurses like me, and a few have gone on to become doctors. Once I had a full understanding of what the gift entails, I've done my best to use it in a way that would please God. No one knows this, and I know Marcus would be furious if he knew that sometimes on my days off, I work with the police in the smaller suburbs and towns, trying to help them solve crimes by using my voice and sensory perception,” Monet said.
“Do you ever sense bad feelings about yourself or Marcus?” Liz asked nosily.
“No, not about myself, but I've had feelings about Marcus. I'll call him at work and ask him about situations to be aware of when he's working undercover. Like where someone was hiding in a building, and even where a bomb was located. Most of the time, I'm on target, and I know that somewhere in the back of his mind he realizes that, but he just refuses to deal with it. And before you ask, if I sensed something about you and Wade, I'd let you know in a subtle way, like I do with Marcus.” Monet smiled.
“So other than voices or feelings, do you experience any other signs?” Liz was fascinated by the conversation.
“No, that's it. I know it sounds weird, but that's my life.” Monet smiled. “When I've shared my information with a select few friends in the past, they couldn't accept it. Later, after I accepted Christ as my personal Savior, I learned better how to use my gift. I was close to a cousin when I was growing up, she had the gift too. But we lost contact after college. She lives in Seattle, and she's a doctor. It would have been easier to stay in Alabama because my family is there, and they're like me. But I wanted to move beyond Alabama and see the world.”
“I think being able to help mankind at that level is an anointing from God. Now what about the lottery or things like that?” Liz asked, trying to lighten the mood. “You have any numbers for me to play today in the pick-four game?”
“Don't even go there,” Monet quipped back with laughter. “Honestly, I've never tried it.”
Liz felt honored that Monet had shared so much information with her. Liz, like the nurses in Monet's unit, knew there was something special about Nurse Caldwell. Liz had met Monet's mother many times before her death, and she just seemed like a quiet, attractive, older woman, who seemed at peace with herself and her lot in life. Serenity came to mind when Liz thought of Monet's mother. The only time Gayvelle really became animated was when she talked about Monet or her sons. It was apparent to anyone who saw them together, that mother and daughter shared a close relationship.
“What about your mother and the bus accident. Did you sense she was going to pass away?” Liz asked.
“I had a dream about her the night before, and it seemed like Momma was far away from me. We were in a field, and she was walking ahead of me, and I was running, trying to catch up with her. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. I could literally feel my legs pumping in the dream. At the end of the dream, she turned and blew me a kiss, and then she was gone.
“I called her the next morning after I awakened, but we never talked. She had already left for work. I felt out of sorts and I couldn't seem to stop crying, and the details of the dream stayed in my head. Looking back in retrospect, I realize that she was trying to prepare me for what lay ahead,” Monet admitted. Her eyes clouded with tears as she clasped and unclasped her hands. “A few minutes before Duane called to tell me what had happened to Momma, I had a premonition of doves soaring upward in the air. I knew that Duane was calling me with bad news. I believe that's when Momma's soul left her body.
“I looked at a clock, and I noted the time I saw the doves on a piece of paper, and the time matched the time of death on my mother's death certificate,” Monet added.
“I take my hat off to you and all the women in your family. God gave you all a gift which you all have used wisely.”
“I don't know about all of us.” Monet smiled. “My cousin, Sharla, worked as a psychic, like Miss Cleo, for a while for monetary gain. But after a few months, her gift was gone just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“Wow, that's amazing,” Liz exclaimed as she folded her arms across her chest. “I want you to know that you have my total support, and I understand why you won't have an abortion. All I can say is based on what you told me, I believe the baby is Marcus's. Keep your head up, and hold on to God's unchanging hand. I'll be there for you in any capacity you want me to be.”
“Thank you, Liz.” Monet sniffled. She took a napkin out of the napkin holder and blew her nose. “God will surely bless you. Maybe I should have pushed Marcus harder and made him listen to my story.”
“Maybe this is a test that Marcus has to face himself,” Liz interjected. “Did you ever think of that?”
“I hadn't,” Monet admitted as she shook her head. “Sometimes I don't know how I'm going to endure being pregnant and not having him with me to share the joy.”
“Keep the faith, and you'll be all right. In Matthew 17:19 and 20, the Bible says if we have the faith the size of a mustard seed, then we can move mountains. Marcus is a piece of cake compared to a mountain. He'll come around. Just believe that he will.” Liz took Monet's hand and held it tightly.
Though Monet nodded, she wished she knew where her husband was and why he hadn't returned her phone call.
Marcus, where are you?
kept drifting through her mind.
Marcus, where are you?
kept drifting through her mind.
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