The Veil (31 page)

The growing baby inside of her was stretching, trying to find room in her compact space, and pressed herself into Misha's lungs. Misha found it difficult to breathe. There were times when she had to sleep sitting up just to be able to breathe. She was bigger than she had ever been in her life. Even her maternity clothes felt too small. She felt miserable and to top that off she had a doctor's appointment. She did not feel like being poked and prodded by the doctor. Nor did she feel like going out in the cold, breezy December air. She could not even get excited about having her last ultrasound to see if Miracle was developing without problems. She knew in her heart that Miracle was fine, healthy and strong. She just wanted to stay in bed.

Luckily, her classes were over and her mother decided not to go to her appointment with her. She could not face any more questions about Bernard from her. Today, she was irritated and did not know why. Everything was getting difficult for her, even sitting, standing, and walking. She was about to leave the apartment when her phone rang.

“Hey, I'm in town. What are you doing today?” Bernard's voice rang out over the phone.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming when we talked last night?”

“I decided this morning. I wanted to see you. Besides, it feels like I'm being drawn here, like I'm supposed to meet somebody. It's almost as if I can hear someone calling me here. Most importantly, though, I wanted to be with you.”

“I'm on my way to the doctor's office. I have to go every week now. After that, I have a birthing class at the hospital.”

“Who's going with you?”

“I'm going by myself.”

“I'll go with you.”

“You don't have to. If I wait for you, I'm going to be late.”

“I'm right outside your door.” She opened the door and he was standing outside. She shook her head and walked past him. “Hey, wait for me,” he said.

“Come on, Bernard. I'm going to be late.”

 

 

At the doctor's office, Bernard and Misha sat patiently, waiting for her name to be called. Bernard looked in the many magazines about pregnancy and child rearing that sat on the table next to him. They heard Misha's name and he helped her get up from the chair and joked about the way she wobbled toward the exam room. She gave him a look that let him know she was not in the mood for jokes. Against Misha's protests, he followed her into the exam room.
Why?
They did not have that type of relationship. She introduced him to Dr. Trinidad and began her exam.

Misha watched as Bernard's face brightened at the sound of the baby's heartbeat. A proud father he would someday be. He was getting enough practice asking Dr. Trinidad questions. Misha wanted him to leave but did not want to be rude to him since he had done so much for her. She wished he was out in the lobby, especially when Dr. Trinidad checked her cervix.

“Mr. Taylor, aren't you that preacher on TBN?” Dr. Trinidad asked as she pulled the latex gloves off her hands.

“You've seen me on TV?”

“I thought I recognized you.” She walked to the sink and washed her hands.

The thought of her doctor knowing Bernard irritated Misha more. How would her white doctor know a black gospel singer?

“Come on. We're going to walk down to the ultrasound room. We're going to do the last ultrasound. Your baby has turned and is getting ready to make her appearance. Let's see what she looks like.”

They walked to the small, cramped room where the ultrasound machine was stored. Misha lay down on the exam table and grimaced when Dr. Trinidad placed the cold gel on her abdomen. Bernard and Misha watched the screen on the machine and oohed at the same time when they saw a face come up on the screen.

“There she is. Look, she's looking at you.”

“That's Miracle?” Misha looked at the face—a clear, defined face—of her baby on the screen. She did not expect to see a real face. Her eyes were barely open. A tear fell from Misha's eyes.

“She's beautiful, Misha. She looks like you.” Bernard caressed Misha's forehead and bent down and kissed her on it. He returned his stare to the picture.

“Looks like everything is fine. I guess I'll see you back next week.” Dr. Trinidad gave the picture to Misha and left the room.

Bernard embraced Misha as she began to cry. She was glad he was there after all. The impact of seeing her baby's face was too intense for her to handle alone. He held her hand as they left the doctor's office, leading her to their car. She stared at the picture. Bernard said Miracle looked like her. That's the best news she heard all day. God knew exactly what she needed to brighten her day.

 

 

After the birthing class and lunch, Bernard took Misha back to her apartment. She was tired and had to go to the bathroom. She did not feel like talking to him. She wanted him to leave but he sat down on the sofa and made himself at home. When she returned to the room, she sat down beside him, trying to be nice.

“Have you decided on a name for her?”

“Not yet. I told you my grandmother wanted me to call her Elizabeth. I'm sort of leaning toward Courtney.”

“How about Taylor?”

“You're saying that because it's your name. Taylor is a pretty name for a girl though. I'll think about it.”

“I don't think you understand. I'm asking you to name her Taylor, not her first name.”

“Elizabeth Taylor, you've got to be kidding.” Misha started laughing. That was the funniest thing she'd heard all day. “My grandmother did say she was going to be a star. Elizabeth Taylor Holloway. That's funny.”

Bernard was not laughing. He seemed frustrated. He stood and walked around the room. “Misha, I'm asking you to name Miracle Taylor. Not her first name. Not her middle name. But her last name. Name her Taylor.”

Misha stopped laughing and stared at him pacing nervously around the room. She stood and walked to him. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying I want her last name and your last name to be Taylor.”

“You're asking me to marry you? I have to say no for a few reasons. You're overwhelmed by the doctor's visit and birthing class. Give it a few days; you'll get over it.”

“Misha, sit down.” Both of them walked to the sofa and he helped her sit down. “I've been praying about this. No one understands me like you do. I can talk to you about anything. It's not about today. It's about every day I've known you. I look at you and see the most beautiful, understanding woman I have ever met. You're an anointed woman of God. I love you with all my heart. I want to be wherever you are.” He stood and began pacing the floor again.

“I don't know about your relationship with Miracle's father. You never talk about him other than to say he's dead. But, I promise you, I'll be the best father she could ever have and love her like my own.” He sat back down on the sofa.

Misha knew she had to tell him about Heckler. However, she had learned to let him talk. She could see he needed to. She sat quietly on the sofa, caressing her large abdomen.

“I know we haven't known each other long. I need you. I love you.” He leaned over and kissed her. Miracle began moving. He leaned back. “I don't think she likes me. She kicks me every time I'm near you.”

“See if she does it again.”

Bernard smiled and moved closer to her. Their lips slowly met and Misha felt herself being drawn deeper into his embrace. Then, Miracle moved even more. Misha pulled away from him and struggled to get up from the sofa. “Bernard. I can't do this. I can't do this to you. There are some things you need to know about me.”

“What things?”

Misha walked over to her computer desk in the corner of her living room. She opened the drawer and pulled out a scrapbook. “I was raped. Miracle's daddy, if I can call him that, was a consultant the school hired to do an evaluation on my school. I walked in on him while he was attacking one of my students and he raped me instead.”

She told him how she kept having visions about Amber being attacked by Mr. Heckler and calling her name and how she knew she had seen him somewhere before when he came to her school. She told him how he kept asking her out and saying inappropriate things to her. She even told him about Roger and his friendship with Heckler.

“You said he was dead.”

“The police killed him. He tried to kill me three times but the gun would not go off. Then, he took the same gun and went outside and fired two shots at the police and they killed him.” She handed him the scrapbook filled with newspaper stories about the incident.

“I thought about aborting Miracle when I found out I was pregnant. But, I couldn't do it. She is a miracle.” She continued telling him about her cancer and how her doctor said it would take a miracle for her to get pregnant. She told him everything, how she prayed for a baby from her own body and God blessed her with Miracle.

“I can't marry you. You're not my husband.”

“How can you say that?” Bernard asked.

She sat down in the Queen Anne chair in front of him. “Well, since I was a child, I've known my husband's name is Matthew. After all this happened, God confirmed this to me. He told me to call him here. He said if I call him, he will come. So I've been calling him. I know he's going to show up one day. I'm sorry if I led you on. It was not my intention. But I can't marry you. I can only marry who God ordained for me. He will understand my ministry and the call on my life.”

Bernard stood up and walked toward the door. “Is that how you feel? You will only marry Matthew?”

“That's the way it has to be. I have to be obedient to God. I'm sorry.”

“Thank you for being honest with me.” He opened the door and walked out of the apartment.

Misha started crying. “God, this is too much for me. I'm about to give birth and one of my closet friends just walked out on me. Are you sure my husband's name is Matthew? I liked Bernard. No. I love Bernard. Can you change your mind about this one, God? Look how he has helped me. Look how you used him to bless me. I still want to be his friend. Now, I don't think I will ever hear from him again.” She wept bitterly.

It was Christmas Day and Misha was returning home from celebrating the day with her family at Uncle Paul's house. It was loud as usual. Everyone kept asking her questions about Bernard. She didn't tell them what happened between them and that she had not heard from him in several days. She was tired and ready to go to sleep and her back was bothering her. She looked forward to a long night's rest. She hoped Miracle would allow her to get the good night's sleep that evaded her in the last few days.

As she reached the top step leading to her apartment, there was a package outside her door. She struggled to lean down to pick it up.

“Wait. Let me help you with that.”

Misha looked up. It was Bernard coming out of her neighbor's apartment. She could see her neighbors standing behind him with big smiles on their faces. “Bernard. I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Did you think I was going to miss spending Christmas with you?” He looked at the neighbors and thanked them for allowing him to stay with them until she arrived. Misha unlocked her door. She and Bernard walked inside.

“You could have called me,” Misha said.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“How long have you been here?”

“In Atlanta?”

“At my apartment.”

“Not long.”

“I'm glad you're here. I've got something for you.” Misha walked to her small Christmas tree that stood on a table in front of a window. She took the lone gift from under it and handed it to him. “This is for you.”

“Thank you.” Bernard opened it to find a thick gold engraved men's bracelet. “This is nice. Thank you. I'll wear it every day. Open yours.”

Misha wobbled to the table and sat down. She opened the package. It was the book Judy had given her. “Oh.”

He saw the expression on her face. “Why you look like that?”

“I'm sorry. A friend gave me this book a long time ago.”

“You read my book?”

“Your book?”

She looked at the cover of the book.
M. Bernard Taylor.
She looked at him. “I didn't know this was your book. Did you autograph this copy?”

“No. So you read my book. Did you like it?” He sat down beside her.

She did not want to tell him it was not one of her favorites. “It's been so long. I don't really remember. I'll have to read it again.”

“Before you do, I have something else for you.” He handed her another beautifully wrapped package.

“Do you always go over the top with gifts?”

“Stop asking questions and open the box.”

She opened it and unfolded the tissue. She could see what looked to her like copies of his birth certificate. She looked at the name. She looked at him. She looked at the other papers. A copy of his social security card and a copy of his driver's license were in the box. Tears began to flow down her face.

“Misha, I told you my father's name is Matt. His legal name is Matthew Bernard Taylor. My name is Matthew Bernard Taylor Jr. I didn't think you would believe me. That's why I copied all this for you. I started calling myself Bernard when I went to college. I thought it made me sound black. My family calls me Matthew or Spanky.”

“Spanky?”

“Yeah. I used to get into a lot of fights when I was young. My parents whipped me so much, some people began calling me Spanky. It sort of stuck. I want you to call me Matthew. I love you. I love Miracle.”

He knelt down in front of her. “I have one more gift. You said the Lord told you to call me and I would come. I heard you. At first I didn't know why I kept coming to Atlanta. I kept making up excuses to come here. After I met you, I wanted to be here with you. But my ministry in Washington needed me. I'm still their pastor and I had a commitment to fulfill. But, I also wanted to be with you. So now I'm asking you to come with me, back to Washington, and be my wife. I know I can trust you. You're an important part of my life and I don't ever want to leave you here again. I don't know what I would do without you. You complete me. Please marry me.” He opened the ring box. Misha could see the ten-carat diamond ring he held before her.

“You're Matthew?” she questioned him in disbelief.

“Yes. I'm Matthew. I heard you call me. I'm here. Marry me. Go back to Washington with me.”

“I'm pregnant.”

“Really? I haven't noticed.” Both of them laughed. “So what do you say? Yes or No.”

“I'm pregnant. I can't get married now.”

“We can get married after Miracle's born.”

She wiped the tears from her face. “Okay. After Miracle's born?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I'll marry you.”

They stared into each other's eyes. Then Misha burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?”

“You just put my mother on the map. Aunt Mattie will never outdo this one. You'll find out about that rivalry later.”

He stood her up and passionately kissed her and Miracle kicked him.

 

 

It was New Year's Day and Misha's back was still bothering her. Dr. Trinidad told her she had started dilating. She was miserable. Her misery could not destroy her excitement. Bernard was flying back into Atlanta to be with her until she had the baby. His plane was landing in an hour and she could not wait to see him. She decided she had enough energy to meet him at the airport. She got dressed and drove to the small private airport to wait for his plane.

The door of the Learjet opened and Matthew stepped out. Then, out of nowhere, pain started in Misha's back and she could feel its squeeze all around her abdomen. She bent over in pain. The pain took her breath away. Matthew walked into the small waiting area and noticed Misha bent over in pain. He dropped his bags and ran to her.

“Misha. What's wrong?”

“I think I had a cramp.”

“I didn't expect to see you here. You shouldn't have come down here.” He hugged her and another pain hit her. She squeezed him so hard he couldn't breathe. “You're in labor. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No. It's over,” she said as the pain eased. She stood straighter. “In the birthing class, the instructor said I'm supposed to wait until the contractions are two minutes apart.” Then a gush of water flowed down her legs. “Oh my God. I think my water broke.”

“We're getting you to the hospital now,” Matthew said as he held Misha around her waist and began walking toward the door. Along the way, he asked an attendant to collect the luggage he dropped on the floor and take them to his car. The attendant met them at the door.

“Sir, would you like me to call an ambulance?”

“No. I have a car waiting for me.” Matthew spotted the long black sedan with the driver waiting outside. He hurried Misha to the car and instructed the driver to take them to the hospital.

 

 

Matthew sat on the edge of Misha's bed. The room was quiet now and she was asleep. Her labor went quickly and she delivered Courtney Elizabeth Holloway three hours after arriving at the hospital. She was a healthy seven pounds, two ounces. Her skin was a bright pink and her eyes were as blue as Bernard's.

The room was quiet now. Misha's family had left an hour ago. Bernard sat in the rocker beside the bed, watching Misha sleep peacefully. Although he was not Courtney's biological father, he was just as proud to cut the umbilical cord and hold her for the first time.

The sound of a whimper came from the bassinet that sat on the other side of Misha's bed. He walked over and picked her up. Cradling her in his arms, he returned to the rocker. He picked up a small glass bottle filled with baby formula and started feeding her while rocking back and forth in the chair. He began to sing softly to her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Eventually his singing woke Misha up and she sat up in the bed to watch the two of them.

Misha watched the scene play out in front of her. Bernard was going to be a good father. He seemed at peace feeding Courtney. He was not nervous during the delivery. She recalled the shock on her mother's face when she walked into the room to see Bernard coaching her with the horrible contractions she was having. Although she did not say anything, Misha could tell her mother was disappointed not to be coaching her. She simply stood back and watched the birth of her third grandchild and stepped up to deliver the news to the other family members waiting in the lobby.

“I didn't mean to wake you.” Bernard glanced at her.

“No. I'm fine. How's Courtney?”

“I think she's hungry.” He held up the empty bottle.

“She eats like her mother.” He laughed and stood. He handed Courtney to Misha and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Bernard, she's so beautiful. Look at all this curly blond hair. I wonder if it's going to get darker.”

“It might. Mine did.” He stared at the two of them. “You are beautiful too.”

“I look a mess.” She lifted her hands to her head and brushed back her hair.

“No, you don't. You're so beautiful and so is our daughter.” He leaned over and kissed her but was interrupted by someone clearing his throat. They looked up and saw two men and a woman standing in the doorway.

“Eric. Hi. Bernard, this is Eric Davidson, my attorney. Is it ten already?” Misha said.

“Actually, it's after ten. This is Ivan Haselden, the attorney for the State. This is Jennifer, the lab tech,” Eric said, pointing to the people with him. Bernard reached out his hand to shake theirs. Bernard lifted the sleeping Courtney from Misha and placed her in the bassinet. The attorneys watched his every move.

“Say, you look familiar. What's your name?” Eric asked.

“I'm Bernard Taylor.”

“Bernard Taylor the gospel singer?” Eric's smile widened. “Misha, you didn't tell me you knew Bernard Taylor. Well, it's nice to meet you. We're here this morning to do the paternity test on Courtney. We won't be long. Are we ready?”

Misha watched as Mr. Haselden whispered something to Eric and they excused themselves and walked into the hallway. When they returned, Eric said they wanted to do a paternity test on Courtney and Matthew.

“He's not Courtney's father.” Misha sat up in the bed.

“It's not that I don't trust you. However, we can't help to notice the similarities in your baby and Mr. Taylor. You two are in a relationship. I mean you were kissing when we walked into the room,” Mr. Haselden said.

Misha could not believe this man was standing in her hospital room making accusations and smirking at her.

“But, he's not Courtney's father. Heckler raped me. It's his baby.”

“Well, if it's not Mr. Taylor's then you have nothing to be worried about.”

“But . . .”

Bernard held up his hand. “No, Misha. I'll do it. What do you want me to do?”

Jennifer began opening a small package. She stopped and looked at him. “I need to see some identification.” He pulled his driver's license out of his wallet and gave it to her. She wrote the information on a sheet of paper and handed it back to him. “Open your mouth.” She pulled out a very long Q-tip-looking stick and rubbed the inside of his mouth. She did the same to Courtney after checking her hospital bracelet, waking the sleeping baby.

“I guess in a few days we will know exactly who this baby's real father is,” Mr. Haselden remarked.

Misha, disgusted with the man's remark, replied, “I guess you will.”