Misconceptions Read online

  The waiter arrived and took their order, and Joe handed the menus back.

  “I can’t say I blame the doctors for their diagnosis. My dad is making some pretty unusual claims, but weird claims aren’t always the same thing as delusion. There aren’t any other symptoms consistent with mental trouble.”

  “What kind of claims is he making?” Dominique grabbed another tortilla chip and dipped it into the sauce.

  Joe leaned forward. “He’s telling everyone he knows the cause of the pregnancy crisis.”

  How could some old man have it figured out when the government, doctors, and respected scientists were stumped? That would be a story. “Does he have proof?”

  “Not exactly. My dad grew up in this area, so he knows everyone. One day after a story ran on the news about the lack of newborns, he started tracking local births. His research showed that those babies were born only to couples who were committed Christians. He thinks the Lord is raising up a new generation.”

  The waitress returned to drop off some bread, which allowed Dominique time to let the words sink in. Not exactly what she expected. “You don’t believe him, do you?”

  Joe leaned back. “Actually, I do.”

  “Really?” Dominique did nothing to conceal her surprise. Yet her curiosity gnawed at her. At this point she was desperate for any direction in her investigation. “Why would God do something like that?”

  “Because He can.”

  Goosebumps ran up her arms. Is this God’s judgment? Her own conscience battled with her investigative instincts. “Isn’t God supposed to love everyone, not just Christians?”

  “The question isn’t whether or not God loves us. He does. It’s whether we accept His plan, even when it doesn’t match what we think it should be.”

  Dominique shook her head. “I just don’t believe God would single out a group of people like that. Why Christians? Why not a different group of people?” She fought to control her tone.

  “I don’t have the answer. There are places in Scripture where the Lord did open and close women’s wombs.” Joe paused for a moment. “Maybe He wants us to have a greater appreciation for life.”

  “That’s a pretty big stretch claiming He would single out Christians. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Isn’t it just as important for us to care for the life that’s here already?”

  Joe seemed to search for just the right words to say. “Have you ever been present when someone died?”

  She rested her hand on the belly that once carried a child and swallowed her pain. Does my own child count? She cleared her throat. “No.”

  “I’ve witnessed a lot of deaths, and the thing that amazes me is the uniqueness of that single human life. It can never be duplicated. In the weeks following the death of a loved one, we contemplate what we wouldn’t give for just one more moment with that person. Life is so very precious. Our society places such a lack of value on human life.” Joe’s eyes held hers, as though he was trying to gauge her reaction. “ Since abortion has been legal in this country, over fifty-six million babies have lost their lives. The numbers are devastating.”

  My child was one of those statistics. Her throat swelled, and she wasn’t sure she could say anything even if she knew how to respond.

  The waiter headed toward their table with a tray holding their order. She let out a long breath.

  After the waiter placed their plates in front of them, Joe said, “Do you mind if I say a blessing?”

  She nodded and hoped his prayer would be short.

  He said a quick grace, then resumed their discussion. “So, do you think I’m crazy, too?”

  She felt drawn to at least investigate Joe’s dad’s claims, no matter how far-fetched they seemed. As a woman who had undergone an abortion, she was heartsick. How could she ever confide in him now, knowing how he felt about abortion? “I think you’re a man who loves his dad. There’s nothing crazy about that.”

  “That’s a nice way of avoiding the question. Do you think his theory holds any merit?”

  “Let’s just say I’m extremely skeptical.”

  “Then come see. Come to with me to our evening worship service tonight. You’ll see something you haven’t seen in a long time.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Pregnant women.”

  Chapter Nine

  Travis stood at the end of his driveway and waved good-bye to the church member who had been kind enough to give his family a ride home. The short journey had taken forever. Although they only meant to be helpful, their endless suggestions grated his nerves. No, I don’t need the name of your mechanic, or an honest car salesman. Can you help me out of this financial pit I’m in?

  What would have happened if he’d blurted out the revolting truth? Would they have walked away and withdrawn their offers to help? What would Cindy have done? With a sigh, he followed Cindy into the house. They drifted further and further apart with each passing day. At this rate it would take forever to find their way back to one another.

  Travis settled himself in his office and fired up his laptop. The girls went upstairs to play dress-up, and the boys giggled and chased each other in the living room.

  Cindy leaned against the door frame. “Are you going to help with the pancakes? It is Sunday.”

  He longed for simple family tradition, but— “I can’t today, honey. I know I don’t usually work on Sundays, but I’m swamped.”

  “That’s two weeks in a row. I hope this isn’t going to become the norm.” She took two steps into his office. “Is something troubling you?”

  Tell her. Help with the pancakes, then have an honest conversation and open up.

  After an awkward silence, she started to leave, then stopped and turned to face him. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, the school called and said we’re two months behind on the girls’ tuition. You said you paid that.”

  Travis opened the desk drawer and pulled out the checkbook. He casually flipped through the ledger, pretending to look for the entry. “I’ll call them tomorrow. I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He shoved the checkbook back into the drawer. “Sorry about lunch. I’ll make it up to everyone next week.” He stared at the computer screen, hoping she would drop the subject. He still caught the glare Cindy shot him when she left the office. Guilt stabbed at him, but he focused on the spreadsheet on the screen. The best thing he could do for his family was come up with a plan to save his business, not waste time making pancakes.

  Unable to concentrate, he pulled out his phone. Three missed calls from his accountant. This can’t be good. He couldn’t return Scott’s calls until he completed a business outlook plan for the next six months. Then Scott could let the bill collectors see the projected revenue increase. They would be paid the money owed them plus interest. The plan was sound. After putting it in motion, Travis would turn his attention to growing the business.

  Two hours later, Cindy walked into his office and planted her hands on her hips. “What really happened to the Land Rover? First the truck, now the Land Rover.”

  “I told you, Cindy, I couldn’t get the Land Rover started. And the truck was towed because I parked in a no parking zone. I’ll handle it.”

  “Great!” She stormed out of the room.

  Travis swore under his breath. What little he’d heard from the morning’s sermon popped into his mind. Integrity is what you do when no one is looking. We must be authentic before the Lord and others. He didn’t want to think about that. The pastor had probably never faced the kind of problems he was facing. What could he know about a failing business or crumbling marriage?

  His cell phone rang again. He knew without looking that it was Scott. Just get it over with.

  “I’m glad I finally got a hold of you. Payroll is scheduled to cycle on Tuesday.” Scott let out a sigh. “You still don’t have the money to cover it.”

  Travis clutched the phone tighter. “Move it from another account.”

  “There is no other account, Travis. You’ve depleted all of your
resources. Do you have anything in one of your personal accounts you could transfer?”

  His personal finances were in worse condition. He didn’t know where next month’s mortgage was coming from, never mind finding the money to cover an entire payroll. Where was he going to come up with that kind of money in just two days? He swallowed past the pain in his throat.

  Vinnie Fernandez’s face flashed across his mind.

  Even though he’d already turned down the man’s offer, it was looking like it might be his only choice. He looked at the figures he had been scribbling out for the last hour. Nothing but red. He wadded the paper into a ball and hurled it across the room. “Give me twenty-four hours. I’ll see what I can do.” He ended the call and tossed his cell phone on the desk.

  His business had always operated on the up-and-up. Where had that gotten him? Bankruptcy, both personal and professional. Although Vinnie’s reputation was less than stellar, he’d talk with him one more time. Now that he’d met the man, he would be better prepared. It would be such a relief to catch up on some bills. Travis smiled for the first time all day.

  Bad company corrupts good character.

  Travis tapped his fingers on his desk, ignoring the warning from this morning’s sermon. The arrangement would be temporary. He would make sure of it.

  The ticking of the clock on the mantel seemed loud. The kids must be napping. He climbed the stairs two at a time. When he reached the top, he heard it.

  Sobbing.

  Pain stabbed at his heart. Cindy was crying and he was to blame. For one brief moment, he thought about turning around and ignoring it, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He headed down the hallway, his wingtip shoes silent on the plush carpet.

  He tried turning the knob to the master bedroom, but it didn’t move. He knocked softly, careful to not wake the kids.

  The minutes seemed long before the door opened slightly. Cindy backed into their bedroom and sat down on their king-sized bed.

  He sat next to her on the bed. “Cindy, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been distant lately, but I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

  Silence.

  “Please talk to me. I need to know you forgive me.”

  She grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand. “I don’t know what to say, Travis.”

  “Well for starters, you can say you forgive me. You’re right, I haven’t been myself lately. I’ve been short with you.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “Are you even a little happy about the baby, Travis?”

  The baby. Why did she have to bring that up? He wasn’t ready to accept the fact that their family was going to grow by one. Or two. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter. Another set of twins would be incomprehensible. “Have you been to the doctor yet? Sometimes those home pregnancy tests are wrong.”

  “Guess that answers my question, doesn’t it?”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. You’ve had a little more time to process this than I have.” He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, and tucked it behind her ear. “Can we talk about this later? I have to go to a meeting.”

  “What kind of meeting? It’s Sunday.”

  “Something came up that requires my immediate attention. I don’t want to go, but I have to. I’ll bring home a pizza for dinner. After the kids go to bed, we can talk.”

  Her face relaxed but her eyes still held questions.

  “Try to take a nap before the kids wake up. I’ll do my best to keep this meeting brief.” Travis kissed her on the cheek.

  He didn’t wait for a response—her slumped shoulders and dull eyes told him she accepted the fact that he was going out. It wasn’t as if he had a choice. He rubbed the knot out of his neck. If he didn’t come to some sort of agreement with Vinnie, he would lose everything.

  Careful to keep quiet, he went outside to the detached one-car garage where he kept the old truck. With its rusted-out body and leaky engine, it wasn’t fit to be kept in their oversized three-car garage, but it was debt free. No one could repossess it. Hopefully, Vinnie would be at his restaurant and agree to meet with him.

  While driving, he reviewed his final business proposal. He’d guessed what Vinnie might want in return for the loan: money laundering. Vinnie had been accused it of many times, even though he always evaded conviction. He would ask for a one-year business venture. His contracting company would provide a legitimate avenue for Vinnie to funnel his capital. Illegal and dangerous. Travis gripped the steering wheel as though his life depended on it. Maybe it did. The plan he’d drawn up assumed this was what was going on, and it was fair for both parties. In exchange for the currency he channeled for Vinnie, he would receive a cash advance and a small percentage off the total amount of money he moved each month. The advance would provide enough to get his vehicles back, pay the kids’ tuition, and process the next two months’ payrolls.

  With a boost in revenue, he would devote some time to increasing new business and hopefully collect some of the money his vendors owed him. After one year, the contract would expire, and he would never have to do business with Vinnie Fernandez again. Make the deal, fulfill your part of the contract, then get out!

  A different hostess greeted him, one much older, who had a warm, motherly look about her. Her voice was so soft, Travis almost didn’t hear her. “Table for one?”

  “Ah, no. Well yes, there’s just one in my party. Actually, I was hoping to see Mr. Fernandez.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I’m sorry, I don’t. I met with him the other day, and I was hoping to discuss things a bit further.”

  “One moment please.” The hostess headed toward the back.

  His heart pounded so loud, it seemed like everyone in the restaurant could hear it. Never in his life would he have imagined even entertaining the idea of doing business with a criminal like Vinnie Fernandez. What would he do if Vinnie wouldn’t let him out of the arrangement? Maybe he could hide the fact that his brother-in-law was a police officer, then use that as an excuse to dissolve their contract. Surely Vinnie wouldn’t want the police looking too closely into his business affairs.

  Before he had a chance to question his decision any further, the hostess reappeared.

  “Mr. Fernandez will see you, Mr. Montgomery. Follow me.”

  His relief that Vinnie would see him was short lived. The hostess knew his name, but he hadn’t given it to her. He followed her to the back of the restaurant and focused on the red-square linoleum floor to avoid making eye contact with the customers they passed.

  She took him down a long hallway lined with four solid oak doors, tapped twice on the last door to the right, and opened it. “Mr. Fernandez will be right in.”

  As a building contractor, Travis appreciated the luxury and craftsmanship of the office. With its large cherry desk in the center of the room and a stately chair behind it, the office clearly belonged to a wealthy and powerful man. If Travis wasn’t mistaken, it was positioned slightly higher than the chairs on the opposite side. Probably to make the person meeting with him feel insignificant. He was familiar with that feeling.

  The expensive art, plush carpeting, and Italian designer furniture clearly spoke of power. Before he had an opportunity to inventory the entire room, the door opened.

  “Hello, Travis. I’ve been expecting you.”

  Why had Vinnie been expecting him when he hadn’t known he was coming here until a few hours ago?

  Something wasn’t right. Every instinct screamed at him to leave. Nothing good could come from this meeting. He would just end up being another one of Vinnie’s pawns. Think about Cindy and the kids … what are you going to tell her?

  Travis took a deep breath, but instead of walking away, found himself saying, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. Fernandez.”

  “Let’s forego the formalities. You can call me Vinnie. Have a seat.”

  Travis ran his hands o
ver his legs to stop their trembling. He had been right. Vinnie’s chair was elevated, leaving Travis feeling like a troubled, defiant student sitting in the ever-powerful principal’s office.

  He wouldn’t give in to his feelings of insecurity. Time to lay all the cards on the table. Either I make the deal, or I lose it all.

  “What can I help you with, Travis?”

  “I may have spoken in haste at our previous meeting. I would like to talk about a business deal with you. I hope you’ll be agreeable to my terms.”

  “I only work under my own terms.” Vinnie tapped his thick index finger on the desk. “I thought I made that clear at our last meeting.”

  Sweat trickled down his sides and dampened his eyebrow. This wasn’t going as planned. He needed to start fresh. How could he turn the tables? He’d present his offer, but leave out the one-year arrangement—he’d bring that up later when he sprang the whole brother-in-law-is-a-cop bomb.

  “Of course. I’m familiar with your terms, Vinnie.” Using the man’s first name felt awkward. Travis hoped it didn’t show in his voice. “I’ve just had some things come up, and I was hoping we could come to a satisfactory arrangement for both parties.”

  “How much do you need?”

  Travis’s heart thudded in his ears. Vinnie seemed to know his next move before he even had a chance to express it. How many other people had sat here, desperate for financial assistance, and had no choice but to allow this man to bully them into accepting his terms?

  Vinnie leaned back in his chair. “You seem surprised I knew you need an advance. Let me tell you, son. I’ve been in business long enough to know there’s only two things that drive a man. Money and women. Am I right?”

  “Yes, sir.” Again, Travis felt like a small child in a principal’s office. It was difficult to breathe. He loosened his collar.

  “Will one hundred grand cover your needs?”

  Just like that. Vinnie could offer him one hundred thousand dollars without even batting an eye. It would definitely help him … temporarily. He could get his cars back and make payroll. His other debts would still need attention, but at least he would have more breathing room.