Heathens Need Love Too - Chapter Six

Marcus lay awake in the darkness, wondering if he would ever be able to climb out of the hole he had dug himself into. A second month had passed since that fateful day at Heather's job, when a few of his skeletons had fallen out of the closet for all who were present to see. Eight weeks and still Heather would not answer or return his calls.

Beep...beep!

Unable to ignore the desperate pleas of his cell phone any longer, Marcus cut on the lamp beside his daybed and grabbed the charger off the tiny black nightstand. As he watched the charger slowly breathe life back into his phone, he contemplated...

"I can't believe I'm even thinking about this," he said out loud. He took a deep breath, located her number in his phone and hit the "call" button. Then suddenly, he had a change of heart and hung up.

"Ugh!" Marcus yelled out in frustration as he got out of bed and began to pace back and forth across the tiny room until he decided he had nothing to lose.

"I don't even know why I'm trippin' like this," he said as he dialed again.

"Hello?" a sleepy yet sultry voice asked after a couple of rings.

"Uh - hello? How are you doing?" he asked, trying his best to sound cool, calm and collected, but failing miserably.

"Who's calling?"

"Marcus."

There was silence.

"Hel-lo?" Marcus enunciated. "Look, I know it's late, and I'm probably the last person you want to talk to but-"

"Actually Marcus," she interrupted "I figured you would get around to calling me sooner or later. They always do. But for the record, I am officially off the market."

"Huh?" Marcus asked.

"I am officially off the market," she repeated. "In case you don't quite know what that means, I am unavailable. Taken. Very much in love and engaged to be married."

"What?!" Marcus said stopping dead in his tracks.

"You heard me - I am getting married. And - I'm having a baby! I am three and a half weeks pregnant. So before you start begging to see me again, just know that there is no chance for reconciliation. I forgive you for being a Ho, but your opportunity to get with a real woman has officially expired."

A smile spread across Marcus's face as the news that had just been shared with him sunk in.

"Congratulations Mary," he said, trying not to sound too happy. "I know I was wrong, but I'm glad you found a better man. You deserve nothing but the best life has to offer, and since I wasn't it for you, I can't be mad at all."

Marcus had figured that he would need to make things right with Mary before he could even think about winning back Heather's heart. Things were beginning to look easier than he had anticipated.

"Damn right!" Mary said in agreement. "You can't be mad. Don't hate the player, hate the game!"

"So who's the lucky guy?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"His name is Anthony," she replied with the excitement of a school girl experiencing her first crush. "He's an advertising executive. He came into the bank one day to open up a business account and told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen."

Well that's original, Marcus thought cynically as he bit his tongue to keep from saying the wrong thing.

"So when's the wedding?" he asked.

"Well we want to get married before I start showing, so it's actually going to be next month. It's just been a bit challenging trying to plan everything in such a short period of time. Anthony's parents are loaded though and they have a beautiful home, so we're going to have the wedding ceremony there."

Suddenly, Marcus had an idea.

"Mary, I know you're gonna think I'm crazy for even bringing this up, but uh - well, I would really like to sing at your wedding."

Mary burst into laughter.

"You're so crazy!" she said.

"No actually, I'm serious" Marcus replied. "That's the least I could do after all that I put you through. Just because you're getting married doesn't mean we can't be friends. And I have a great singing voice."

"Oh you can sing, huh?" Mary challenged. "Well sing a couple of bars for me and I'll be the judge."

Marcus cleared his throat, wishing that he had seen this coming and had time to warm up.

He decided to use the infamous song, "You Are So Beautiful" as his sales pitch, hoping that his vocal skills wouldn't fail him now. He sang:

You are so beautiful ... to me
You are so beautiful ... to me, can't you see?

You're everything I hope for
You're everything I need
You are so beautiful ... to me

He could hear Mary sniffling on the phone.

"Mary?" he asked. "You okay?"

"That was amazing," Mary sobbed as she blew her nose loudly. "I didn't even know you could sing. I would love for you to sing at my wedding Marcus."

"Yes!" Marcus whispered away from the phone as he did a victory "Dirty Bird" dance.

"How much do you charge?" Mary asked.

"For you sweet lady," Marcus replied, "absolutely nothing. I just have one thing to ask of you."

"What's that?"

"Please don't tell your sister. Don't even include my name in the program, if you're going to print one. She probably hates me and it would be less stressful for you and for your whole family if she didn't know I was going to be there until the moment actually arrives."

"Marcus, I don't know," Mary said. "I wasn't even thinking about my sister when you offered to sing at my wedding, but even after all of this time, she's very hurt over what happened. She's having difficulty coming to terms with the fact that I'm the one you truly wanted."

Marcus choked on thin air.

"Marcus?" Mary asked, concerned by the odd nose emanating from Marcus's throat.

"Uh yeah," he replied. "About Heather. I want to make amends and be friends with her as well, if she'll ever even be open to the idea. You are both very lovely women and I have no intentions of causing either of you any further grief. If you don't want me to sing at your wedding-"

"Forget that!" Mary interrupted. "I love my sister but this is my wedding and your voice is incredible. Let's go for it. I won't say a word!"

"Alright then, it's a deal. Just tell me where to be and when and I'm there, Marcus replied as he smiled his biggest grin ever.

Things were finally looking up. But before he could proceed with his plans, he had one thing that he needed to do.

Early the next morning, Marcus grabbed his cell phone again.

"Nah - he probably won't be up," he said to himself. "Then again, old folks do get up kinda early."

Ever since he had reunited with Pastor Mitchell, Marcus had made it a point to call him every couple of days to say hello and see how he was doing. The pastor would always end each conversation with prayer, but Marcus was unable to get little more out than a shaky "Amen" at the end.

There was one thing he had thought to ask the pastor on several occasions, but he couldn't quite gather the nerve.

He dialed the pastor's number, hoping that he would already be awake.

"Well hello there Marcus! You're up bright and early this morning," Pastor Mitchell said cheerfully.

"Yes sir," Marcus replied. "I'm still having trouble sleeping these days, but I'll be alright."

"Yes you will," the pastor replied. "I am confident that you will be just fine."

"Pastor Mitchell - I know this is going to sound silly, but I need to ask you a small favor," Marcus said.

"What can I do for you son?"

"Not long ago you asked me what I was ailing from. I guess you already knew."

"Go on Marcus," the pastor gently urged.

"I need to - well I want to - what I'm trying to say is - uh -"

"What is it Marcus?"

"I think I want to go to church," Marcus said quickly before he changed his mind again.

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" the pastor asked out of concern. "I mean, we will welcome you with open arms to Sunday service but I don't want you to feel -"

"I don't think I'm ready for Sunday service," Marcus cut in abruptly. "I was hoping to go to the church early this morning...with you."

"Meet me there in an hour," Pastor Mitchell replied without hesitation.

An hour later they stood side-by-side in the lobby of the building, which aside from new carpeting and a fresh paint job, had remained unchanged from the way he remembered it to have appeared during his youth. Beads of sweat quickly formed on Marcus's forehead as the temperature in the room seemed to elevate to a level that was almost unbearable.

"You don't have to do this if you're not ready," Pastor Mitchell assured him.

"No, let's go inside," Marcus insisted. He took a deep breath as they walked through the doors leading to the area of worship. The pastor had already cut on the lights and Marcus felt his heart beating fiercely as he looked around the sacred place.

Slowly, they walked down the aisle toward the altar as the pastor began to sing a Christian hymn, "Waiting on the Lord," in his strong baritone voice:

Waiting on the Lord, for the promise given;
Waiting on the Lord, to send from Heaven;
Waiting on the Lord, by our faith receiving;
Waiting in the upper room...

As the pastor continued to sing, Marcus grimaced. Vivid, painful flashbacks invaded his mental space and his legs began to feel weak. Overcome with emotion, he quickly fell to his knees.

"Why God?" Marcus cried angrily. He buried his forehead in his hands and clenched his fists.

Pastor Mitchell knelt down beside him and took Marcus into his arms as tears unexpectedly escaped his own eyes. "He hears you son. He hears you."

The pastor continued to embrace him as Marcus's wails echoed throughout the room. Marcus cried until the last tear had fallen and his body had exhausted its last bit of strength.

"You just took the first step, son," Pastor Mitchell said softly in Marcus's ear. "You're on your way."