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  “You’re going to walk the aisle pregnant?” his eyes were huge as his eyebrows rose high.

  “No,” I scoffed, “we don’t need another ceremony. We’ll just re-apply for the marriage license and restate our vows at the courthouse.”

  “We’ll re-apply tomorrow morning, but I want Pastor Anderson to renew our vows. And besides, I know if we did them at the courthouse a reporter would somehow end up in the mix.”

  “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to realize this,” I giggled.

  “You mean you’ve been waiting for me to—”

  “I’ve been waiting since the morning I woke up in your arms in California. I was starting to get a little worried you weren’t going to get around to this, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to remind you just before the delivery room.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Hey, you’re the one with the photographic memory. I just couldn’t believe that detail slipped your mind.”

  Micah frowned.

  That was when I understood just how troubled his conscience was over his former job.

  Church ended up being a big surprise for me. I hadn’t been back to my home church since D’Angelo sent me running. Everything about my life that the tabloids published had been lies, but apparently a lot of people read those things and put at least some stock in the stories. Our reception was strained and somewhat chilly as church members gave us some odd looks. Whispers were being shared all over the auditorium.

  I seemed to be receiving the coldest shoulders, where as Micah was given more looks of sympathy than anything else. As I reviewed everything in my mind, I figured out it was because, from the tabloid’s point of view, everything was my fault. They said I ran away with another man days after my marriage, and that I’d had at least two lovers since I’d left Micah (which they said I bounced between trying to make up my mind). My pregnancy took the front page with three possible fathers, and now I was back here with the poor soul I ran away from in the first place. My reputation I once cared so very much about had been absolutely trashed so the tabloids could sell more magazines.

  Mom, I could tell, was getting extremely annoyed over what should have been a homecoming of sorts, but was now more like gossip central. Micah held it together, but I could almost see the steam rising from him as he too considered I had been cast in a worse role than the proverbial Biblical prostitutes.

  Pastor Anderson even looked a little confused, but happy nevertheless, to see us. As soon as he came to shake our hands, I had to ask him if he would have some time to speak with us privately.

  “Yes, of course. I usually go out for lunch right after the service, but I can wait for lunch if this is important.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said, sounding a little more desperate than I expected.

  As soon as the services ended, we went into his office to wait for him to finish shaking hands and saying goodbye to other church members. Micah was about to come unglued by the time we entered the solitude of his office.

  “Leese, I can’t stand the way they look at you! I wanted so badly to stand up in the middle of the service and set them all straight. You don’t deserve this kind of treatment,” he snapped as he paced the floor.

  “Micah, the truth always seems to find a way to come out at some point. It’s just that right now I happen to look like the bad guy. But, it’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not! You are the most sacrificial, unselfish, caring person, and you should be recognized for that instead of shunned and shamed like you’re some hooker off the street.”

  I gave an unintentional laugh, “I’m afraid a hooker off the street might get a better reception.”

  The door opened and Pastor Anderson entered the room. I couldn’t help but notice he seemed very uncomfortable.

  “You’ve got to let everyone know it’s nothing but lies that have been spread about Leese,” Micah blurted to the Pastor as he turned to face us.

  “Micah! That’s not what we came here to discuss.”

  “Well, I’m not going to discuss anything else until this is settled. Pastor Anderson, Leese has been faithful to me. She only left me because someone from the mob threatened my family and—”

  “Micah, stop it!” He was ready to spill everything without giving much thought to whether it was safe to say or not. “Please,” I emphasized.

  “Micah,” Pastor Anderson spoke up, trying to calm the situation, “please have a seat. Take a couple breaths and let Leese decide if she wants to tackle the same subject you do.”

  I was surprised that Micah actually obeyed without resistance, but I could still see it in his eyes; he wasn’t going to calm completely until my reputation had been reestablished, at least with the pastor.

  I reached over and gently gripped Micah’s hand, “Although this isn’t what we originally wanted to see you about, I admit I was shocked by the way people treated me today. So, if you don’t mind this being longer than planned, can I catch you up on what happened between the two of us?”

  Now the delicate part began. Pastor Anderson knew it was rumored that Micah was a mafia member before we married, but we’d never came right out and confirmed it. He also had no idea what role Micah would have played in the mafia if the rumor were true. I couldn’t lie—I was so afraid if I even bent the truth, Micah might unravel, but a version, softened as much as possible, was ready to unfold.

  I confirmed what Micah already blurted; someone from the mob didn’t approve of our marriage and threatened Micah’s family if I didn’t leave him (I just left out the fact why he wanted Micah back so badly). I explained that Ryan was my best friend and what looked bad at the time was simply him helping me escape. I explained there was never any truth to the rumor about having a relationship with Sadarius. But, it was the ending I was having the most trouble tying up.

  “Micah thought I left him for someone else, and I thought Micah hated me for leaving. We finally got together in California and—and reconciled. He learned the truth and so did I—we still loved each other.”

  “And you are expecting and Micah is the father, and the only man you’ve had this kind of relationship with, correct?”

  He didn’t need to know the pregnancy happened months before the reconciliation. I wasn’t lying. The timing of the pregnancy hadn’t been questioned, so I was hoping Micah would remain silent.

  “Correct. Micah is the father and the only man I’ve had sex with.”

  “So what happened to the man who was threatening Micah’s family?”

  Micah’s mouth opened, but I squeezed his hand with all the might I possessed and continued, “He recently passed away. That’s why we can go out in public again without being worried something awful might happen.”

  “Wow, I can understand why you’re so upset, Micah. I’ve always known Leese is a very special young lady, but I’m even more impressed.” He turned to me and continued, “Leese, I’ve married a lot of people, but I don’t know if I’d ever seen someone quite as in love as you obviously were with Micah, and then for you to set your heart’s desire aside to protect his family—well, that is very special.”

  I could hear Micah sigh as the slow smile spread across his face. As much as I once thought I cared about my reputation, it seemed Micah truly cared more.

  “I know what’s going around the church is bothering you, Micah. I’ll see what I can do to change their perception, but don’t expect it to vanish by next Sunday. It may take a little more time—unless I turn you into a Sunday Sermon, Leese.”

  “No, that’s okay, Pastor. I think a gradual change would suit me just fine.”

  I could tell by the look on Micah’s face he liked the Sunday sermon idea better, but there was no way I would agree to that.

  “So, you said this wasn’t what you actually came to see me about; are we ready to tackle the next subject?”

  Micah leaned forward in his chair, his head seemed to lower and his face was troubled once again.

  “If it’
s okay with Micah, I’d like to speak for him. At least for a little while and then he can take over when he’s ready.”

  Micah nodded.

  “In the time we were apart, Micah returned to his way of life before salvation. He’s consumed with remorse for things he’s done and, although I explained that God doesn’t expect a perfect life, and that all his sins were forgiven, he can’t seem to forgive himself for what he’s done. He was raised Catholic, but—”

  “Confession,” Micah spoke up, “is something Leese thinks is unnecessary in the Baptist church.”

  “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Leese,” Pastor Anderson stated.

  My heart jumped to double-time. Please don’t tell him to start confessing, I screamed inside my head. This could turn ugly very fast.

  “But, I’m not the person you confess to, Micah. Prayer is our direct link to confessing our sins before God. You don’t need a priest, pastor, or rabbi; you need time on your knees with God.”

  My sigh of relief was audible.

  “I don’t need to know what your sins are, but I do have to know that you are ready to turn away from them—whatever they are. You’ve got to make a conscious effort to avoid them at all costs.”

  I could see Micah’s head begin to wobble. I know he was wondering how he was going to avoid murder when his boss already told him he wasn’t released from the mob until he helped straighten out the mess he helped create. Some of the ‘straightening’ might involve a Glock and his particular brand of deadly accuracy.

  “Let me put it this way: I don’t know what your sins were, whether it was drinking, drugs, sex, pornography—it doesn’t matter, you’ve got to show God that you are willing to make a change. If you don’t try, then perhaps coming forward was just lip-service without intent, but only you know that answer.

  “Here is an example I use a lot: Let’s say you’re an alcoholic and you were recently saved. You know it’s wrong for you to go back to drinking, but you decide to at least go back to the bars where your old friends hang out. No problem. You’re just going to have a coke. You say it isn’t the alcohol you miss, but it’s the friends and the night life. What’s going to happen if you put yourself back in that situation?”

  “I would eventually start drinking like everyone else.”

  “Right. If you know where your weaknesses lie, show you’re honestly trying to avoid them. Does that mean you will never slip? Will you suddenly be this perfect, superhuman without flaw? No. Sin will happen, and when it does ask God for forgiveness, but don’t come begging forgiveness if you plan to turn around and actively go back out and look for ways to find sin.”

  Micah nodded slowly.

  “Did you mean it when you came forward, Micah? Were you sincere? Did you really want to become a new creature?”

  Micah looked up with tear filled eyes, “More than anything.”

  “Then there are a couple of things I want you to do. First, pray. Seek the only one who knows if you’re sincere in your remorse. Second, we haven’t baptized you yet and, even though it doesn’t wash away sins, it does signal that you’ve made an inward change. Many people feel like the baptism is the point where they really start over fresh and new. And last, make every effort to leave your old life in the past. Don’t drag it into your new life. Avoid it. You’ve got a beautiful reason sitting beside you to make this an honest effort at change—and I know she’ll support you the whole way.”

  Micah looked at me and squeezed my hand, and then his eyes went large, “You’ve got to remarry us,” he tossed out suddenly.

  “You divorced?”

  “I annulled the marriage when she left me.”

  He glanced at my stomach and then back to Micah, “Leese kept her vow to be faithful to you Micah, and, although I really don’t want to dig into whatever this sin is that’s bothering you, I have to ask if you kept your vow to her?”

  “Yes, I did—she’s been the only one.”

  The pastor looked relieved.

  Technically, our baby was conceived out of wedlock, but I could tell by his expression the commitment we made to each other weighed more.

  “I’ll be happy to do a vow renewal ceremony, if you want it. Legally, the marriage license is sufficient. You’ve stated your vows and you’ve kept them.”

  “Yes, we want to renew. Could we do it right after the baptism?” Micah asked.

  Suddenly, I could see the real beauty in what he was asking—we would re-pledge ourselves right after Micah’s newness of life experience. I liked this idea—a lot.

  “When would you like to—” the pastor began.

  “I would be ready today, but we need to reapply for a marriage license,” Micah stated.

  “That’s a good thing, because I wouldn’t do it today. You need a little time to take care of your personal confession with God, before the baptism. What about next Sunday? We can do it at the end of the service. You can invite family, friends, anyone you’d like to witness this commitment to change.”

  Micah looked at me; I smiled. He squeezed my hand and tearfully said next Sunday would be perfect.

  “Wonderful. Is there anything else you two would like to discuss?”

  “No,” Micah stated, rising to shake the pastor’s hand, “but we appreciate your help.”

  Micah was silent as we left the church. We told Mom we would call her as soon as we were done, and then meet at a restaurant for lunch. I had just taken my cell phone out of my purse when he spoke.

  “Leese, when you suggested this, I honestly didn’t think it would help,” he began. “I knew I was going to walk out of that building today and feel just as guilty as when I walked in, but—thank you. Baby—I can’t tell you how much… Well, lighter is the only word I can think of to describe what I’m feeling. I don’t know what I’m going to do about my boss, but at least I feel like I can really, truly see the end of my old life.” He leaned over as we stopped in traffic and kissed my cheek, “Je t'aime, mon ange,” he whispered in my ear.

  “You know I really miss you speaking French to me. You do it so beautifully.”

  He smiled as he looked back toward traffic and began moving the car forward, “The next time I make love to you, I’ll give you an all night French lesson.”

  Goosebumps covered my skin as I considered his promise, “J'accepte.”

  “Call your mom,” he reminded me.

  I’d been sitting there holding my phone, thinking about having Micah speak French to me as we made love, and Mom had been completely and totally forgotten. I couldn’t remove my intense smile as I finally began pushing buttons.

  CHAPTER two

  That afternoon, once we’d returned home from lunch, Micah surprised me by saying he was leaving for a little while.

  “Take me with you,” was the first thing out of my mouth. I had some fears about him going off by himself that weren’t totally irrational—the last time he did this to me, D’Angelo met a sudden end, and Micah nearly met his as well. I was certain, after everything we’d discussed over the last two days, he wasn’t going to go kill someone, but I was afraid to turn loose of him.

  “No, I need some private time,” he said softly.

  “But—”

  “Prayer time,” he added.

  “I’ll pray with you.”

  “Not this time, baby. This is just between me and my Maker.” He kissed me softly and then said he’d see me later, but not to worry if it was really late.

  “Not too late,” I begged.

  “We’ll see,” was all he said, and then he kissed me again and left.

  It was ten when, to my relief, I heard the Corv

  ette pull into the garage. I determined I was going to wait up for him, no matter how long it took, but I was exhausted and had been dozing as I lounged on the couch. I heard the door from the garage open and shut quietly. I listened for the faint sounds as he set the house alarm and then the sound of his footsteps as he headed for the staircase.

  “Hey, mister,” I called gent
ly as he raised his foot for the first riser.

  He turned and peered into the dim living room.

  I could see a large smile on his face as he moved toward me.

  “You shouldn’t have waited up, baby—but I’m glad you did. I had the most incredible afternoon and I was hoping you were awake so I could tell you about it.”

  I couldn’t believe the change in the tone of his voice. All the heaviness and sorrow, all the regret and pain had vanished and he honestly sounded happy. I hadn’t heard him sound this way since the few days we had together right after the wedding. I reached out and stroked his cheek as I rose from the couch. “I’ve been nodding off for the last forty minutes or so, but I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without you. Do you want to talk down here or lie in bed and talk?”

  “How about something completely different?”

  “Like what?” I asked with a little wrinkle to my forehead.

  “I don’t feel like being inside right now, but I know you’re tired. The apartment off the pool deck has French doors from the bedroom to the pool. How about we open the doors and lie in there for a while? You get to be in bed and I still get to be somewhat outdoors.”

  “Sounds good to me, but you’ll need to turn off the main alarm or we’re going to wake up everyone when we go out the back.”

  Minutes later we were lying on a comfortable bed with a gentle breeze blowing into the room through the open doors.

  “I like this,” I confessed, a little disappointed I hadn’t come up with the idea. “Tell me about your afternoon—I can tell you enjoyed it.”

  He had taken off his shirt and was lying on his back with this hand under his head. My head was resting on the inside of his bicep as I rolled toward him with my leg draped over his leg. He was still wearing his big smile.

  “Come on,” I coaxed, “you’re grinning from ear to ear and I want to know why.”

  He turned his face toward me and kissed my forehead.

  “Where did you go?” I begged. I had my suspicions he might have gone down to St. Bernard’s Monastery, but I would wait for him to tell me.