Humbled (3 page)

Joel crept along Lake Shore Drive, unable to absorb the city view along the waterfront. He was too weighed down with confusion to concentrate on simple pleasures. He eased in front of a tall residential building and parked. Joel would have sat there longer, but the valet approached his door rather quickly, so he got out.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mitchell,” the valet said as Joel stepped around the car and went inside.

He received greetings and nods from both the doorman and elevator operator as he made his way to the penthouse suite. He reached the private lobby while being consumed with unrest. Joel stood in front of the double doors leading into the unit, not ready to enter. He gobbled up an ounce of solace, attempting to corral his thoughts. Partially successful, he knocked on the door. His friend opened the door, which was sort of surprising, since the butler usually answered.

“Why didn't you use your key?” his friend Sheba asked.

“Oh, I don't know. I wasn't even thinking,” Joel said, plopping into the first seat he saw. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing.”

“Come on. You're never an interruption. Surely you know that by now,” she said, taking a seat next to him on the love seat situated in the long entryway.

Joel nodded in affirmation and let his head flop back.

“What's going on?” Sheba asked.

Joel didn't bother concealing his despair. Sheba was the one person with whom he could openly share his concerns without feeling pressure. She got who he was, both his complicated and simple characteristics. Their two-year friendship had seen him at the pinnacle of success during his reign as head of DMI. She'd also been Joel's source of compassion during his journey through the bowels of failure. She didn't judge. She didn't ask questions. She just didn't. Sheba was exactly what he needed when he needed it. When he sought professional advice, she was insightful, having successfully built an international chain of designer boutiques. He basked in her presence, soaking up each snippet of whatever it was she provided. Joel rested his forehead against the back of his hand and breathed heavily.

“Are you all right?” she asked with such sincerity that he had to respond.

“I have a situation that has come up with Zarah.” He paused and then told her the news. “She's pregnant.”

Sheba pulled away from him. “When did that happen?”

He couldn't imagine what she was thinking, but he figured it wasn't good. “I guess you're wondering why I asked Zarah for a divorce if she was pregnant.” Joel buried his face in the palms of his hands and then let the fingers trickle down his cheeks until he could speak.

Before Joel said another word, Sheba rested her hand on top of his and said, “I'm not
wondering
anything.” She squeezed his hand. “You're a good man. That's what I know for sure.”

“Yeah, well, you might be the only person who thinks so . . . you and maybe my mother,” he said, smirking. “I can't seem to dig myself out of this hole I've created. I was so close to breathing fresh air here in Chicago, and then, bam, here comes this situation.” Joel clasped his hands together as his elbows rested on his thighs. “Boy, do I have a mess. How long do I have to keep paying for my mistakes? Is there no end?”

Rage attempted to rise up in him, but who would be the recipient? Not God, certainly not Sheba. Then who? There was no one else to blame, which forced him to calm down.

Joel rubbed Sheba's neck. “I'm sorry to dump my troubles on you. You're the last person I want to burden. You've been so good to me.”

“
Mi casa es su casa.
Anytime you need a place to crash, I'm here.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “You have your key. Come anytime.”

Joel leaned over to give Sheba a peck on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“You'd be lost,” she said, earning a heavy roar of laughter from him. “I realize things may be out of sorts for you right now, but you always land on your feet. You'll work this out.”

“I wish I was as confident as you are.” Joel leaned backward. “Not only is my personal life jacked up, but my professional one is too. I don't have a job. I don't even have a prospect lined up.”

“Then I have some investors you should meet,” she told Joel. “With your business mind, you could get a new venture off the ground in less than six months.”

“Coming up with the seed money may be a problem,” he said. “Remember, I sank so much of my personal assets into saving DMI after the merger with Zarah's father went sour. I'm strapped for cash.”

“I'll gladly toss in twenty million as your first investor.”

Joel laid his arm across Sheba's shoulder and gently pulled her as close as he could. “I can't have you give me any more money. I can't ask you for more. You've done plenty for me already. Just letting me crash here without any strings attached is more than I deserve.”

“I believe in you.”

He nodded in affirmation. She always had, which was what had drawn him to her from their initial meeting. Joel vividly remembered the day she walked into his office and handed him an eighteen-million-dollar donation to put toward the memorial library he was building in his father's honor. Ever since their initial encounter, they'd spent days upon days together, mostly talking and being open—no games, no pretending, and no maneuvering. This was one of those visits.

“I should probably head back to Detroit today, but I'm not going to. I'm not ready to face Zarah. I'll need a few more days to figure out my next step.”

“I'm sure she's anxious to see you.”

Joel stood and paced the room. “There's my problem. She wants to see me, but I'm not eager to see her. Nothing has changed as far as my feelings are concerned.” He slid his hands into his pocket and hunched his shoulders. “I'd be lying if I said she's the one for me.”

“But you are married and expecting a child. That could sway your vote.”

“What's weird is that it doesn't. I just don't have the kind of passion for her that I want for my wife.” Joel felt empty when Zarah's name rolled across his lips. There wasn't a sense of longing or love, or a desire to caress her in his arms. There was nothing, which was sobering. He stopped pacing. “I never had it for Zarah. You know that.”

“Maybe not yet, but in time, you can grow to love her and have a wonderful family together.”

“It's not easy. My mother and father loved each other, but it wasn't enough. I'm sure my dad tried loving my mother completely, but I know he never did. She knows it too. Staying with Zarah for the sake of a child isn't an easy decision. I'd basically be giving up my shot at happiness by settling into this arrangement.”

“Well, it was an arrangement from the beginning,” Sheba gently reminded him. He didn't take offense, because she was right.

“How can I forget? I married Zarah as a favor to her father so he'd sell me their family business. At the time, I was making a sound business decision, or so I figured. I didn't care if she believed in a totally different religion than I did. She worships a higher power, and it isn't the same one you and I know. Isn't that crazy? With my father being such a religious man, who loved God with his entire heart and built DMI on those principles, it's inconceivable for me to marry someone who worships many gods. What was I thinking? Really, what was I thinking?” He slammed the palm of his hand against his forehead. “This marriage couldn't help but to end badly.” He chuckled and then abruptly stopped. “And you think I'm smart. Right? Okay.”

Sheba went to Joel and hugged him. “Don't worry. The right decision will become clear for you.”

“I hope so.” Nearly half a foot taller than Sheba, Joel leaned down and hugged her in return. “There is some good that has come out of this already,” he said. “Zarah forced me to say a prayer in the car while I was downtown.”

“Really? My, my, my, now, that's good news.”

Joel rested his arm on Sheba as they strolled into the living room, where the sea of windows displayed the untamed beauty of Lake Michigan. “Sheba, it's been a very long time since I actually prayed to God. He was probably thinking,
Joel who?
when I reached out to Him.” The two of them laughed and laughed. Joel felt the heaviness melting slightly. He kept Sheba close.

“God hasn't forgotten you. You might not have spent much time with Him, but He definitely remembers you.” She patted his chest. “Who can forget you, Mr. Joel Mitchell?”

Joel was amused. “I sure hope He gives me some advice.”

“Don't worry,” Sheba said, laying her head against his chest. “I know you'll do the right thing.”

“Perhaps, if only I knew what the right thing was,” he said, soaking in the warmth of Sheba's touch, the aura of the evening sky, and distancing himself from the problem Zarah represented. Morning would force its way in soon, but tonight belonged to him and Sheba exclusively. He wouldn't waste a single second.

Thursday morning looked like Wednesday and Tuesday and Monday, and so on. Zarah sat alone at the kitchen table. She'd suffered through several mornings of nausea, but the inconvenience didn't compare to the joy blossoming within her. She was carrying Joel's child. It was like a fantasy come true. The marriage hadn't been good for him, but their troubles were going to fade. They were starting a family together. Zarah rested comfortably in her seat. Finally, she was going to be validated as a wife and a mother. She couldn't imagine any satisfaction greater than what she was feeling at this precise instance. She sipped her tea, wanting to remain calm.

“Would you like more tea?” the cook asked.

“No,” Zarah responded as she traced her finger around the rim of the cup. “Excuse me,” she said, practically leaping from the chair.

She grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen island and made her way to the library. She was dialing the numbers too slowly for her satisfaction. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Joel was on the phone. His voice instantly began soothing her anxiety. “I'm very much looking forward to being with you. Have you decided when you're coming home?”

Joel cleared his throat. “Not yet. I have more business matters to handle here before I can get home.”

She could feel her joy seeping out like the air in a punctured balloon and slowly dissipating. Zarah was desperate to cling to hope. Joel was coming home, and they'd be a family. They had to be because there weren't any other options for her. Returning to India as a divorced pregnant woman would garner too much shame for her to justify staying alive. She needed her husband. “I'll call you tomorrow and see if you have decided on a day. I really must see you so we can bask in this good fortune together,” she said, resting her hand on her abdomen.

“Okay, but I have to go,” he stammered.

Zarah was content holding the phone for hours if Joel was on the other end, but he wasn't. He'd said good-bye and ended the call. Tears formed in her eyes. She sat in the library, alone, unwilling to open the drapes and let light fill her space. She preferred to stay in the dark until her time of grieving had passed and Joel was home with her. She remained in the chair for a while, battling the thoughts swirling in her mind. Her heart echoed,
He'll be here. He will love this baby, and it will bring him home.
Her mind didn't agree. It said,
He's not coming. He doesn't care.
Her heart and her mind had equal strength in this battle.

She soon grew tired, and melancholy sank in. She desperately yearned for his assurance that he would return. Maybe one more call would make a difference. Zarah reached for the phone and then froze. She couldn't call Joel, not this soon. Her sorrow ruled. She begged for comfort, in fear of relapsing into her state of depression. She'd beaten it a few months ago with Joel's affection and wasn't ready for a second fight without him. The library walls were closing in on her. She had to find someone to talk to. Her former assistant had gone out of town for a short holiday after Joel fired her. There was only one other person who cared, her sister-in-law. She dialed the number. Tamara was a good friend, just what Zarah needed.

When her sister-in-law was on the line, Zarah calmed down. “I'm so glad you answered.”

“Why? What's wrong?” Tamara asked.

“I went to the doctor, and it's confirmed. I'm . . . I mean we're having a baby.”

“Yea! Congratulations!” her sister-in-law yelled. Zarah found it soothing that someone was excited about her pregnancy. “I know how much you wanted a baby with Joel. I'm not sure why you want a child with him, but that's another story. Anyway, how did my father's son take the news?” Zarah did not respond. “Are you there?” Tamara asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Did you hear me? I was asking how Joel feels about the baby.”

“I'm sure he's happy, very happy to be a father,” Zarah said, not feeling her best.

“Happy enough to rescind the divorce?”

“We haven't talked of the divorce. He's in Chicago, but I'm sure he will no longer want a divorce once he gets home and sees me.”

“You think so, huh?”

“Yes. I believe he will be very pleased about being a father.” She let her heart speak its truth, although her mind called her statement a lie.

“So pleased, but he isn't home yet? Come on, Zarah. You can't really believe he wants this baby or your marriage.”

“I do, and he will. You'll see.”

“The only thing I see is a woman who's waiting around for a man to make his decision about her life. Why are you so keen on letting him control you?” Tamara screamed. “I can't stand watching you do this.”

“I need him. I can't raise a child alone. Joel is my husband. He has to come home.”

“Millions of women in this country have raised babies as a single parent and do fine. You can too. I'll help babysit for you, including changing diapers. How's that for support?” Tamara was amused.

Zarah wasn't. “This is a very important matter.”

“Come on. Lighten up. You're taking this ‘stand by your man' thing too far. Move on, for goodness' sake. Within a few weeks, you could have plenty of good men interested in you. Why wait for a dud like Joel? He's totally worthless.”

“I'm going to wait for him.”

“How long do you plan on waiting?”

“As long as I must.”

“You mean like a month, a year? What?”

“I'll wait forever, as long he allows me to keep my married name, Mitchell. It is what I will ask of Joel. He will respond kindly.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Since my father died earlier this year, Joel is my family. My life belongs here with him, not in India, or any other place. He is my husband, and I must make this marriage work.”

“Excuse me, but I'm going to gag,” Tamara said. A few seconds later, she continued. “Zarah, I have to go.”

“So soon?”

“I have to get off this phone; because I can't stand to hear you sound so helpless when it comes to Joel. He's trifling,” Tamara said.

“He's your brother.”

“Technically, maybe, since we have the same father, but that's where the connection ends. Do me a favor. If you're going to pine over a man, make sure he's worth the hassle. Otherwise, you might get used to Joel making every decision for you and totally running your life. I can't imagine living that way and putting up with his crap, but this is your life, your choice. I respect your choice, and I'll leave it alone.”

Zarah detected the disappointment in Tamara's voice and felt awful. “You'll see. This is for the best.”

“Right, whatever,” Tamara replied. “Look, I have to go,” Tamara said, and then ended the call almost as abruptly as Joel had.

Sometimes Zarah couldn't figure out any of the Mitchells. Tamara and Joel were different but the same. Both contributed to her stress and forced her to question her future as Joel's wife. She decided to shake off the worry and stay positive. Soon the loneliness would be gone. She cherished the thought, confident in her decision. She sat in the chair a while longer, hoping Joel would walk through the door. Eventually, she dozed off, and Joel paraded through her dreams. It was the closest she'd gotten to him in weeks. She slept calmly in his arms.