My Son's Ex-Wife: The Aftermath

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My Son's Ex-Wife: The Aftermath Page 5

by Shelia E. Lipsey


  “Pastor, look; come over to my house. You can sleep in the guestroom.” You can stay there as long as you want. Plus, it’s on the other side of the house, so I won’t be a bother to you. You can have all of the time alone that you need. There’s plenty of food in the fridge too. I mean, Dad, the devil is a lie, and believe me when I tell you that with God’s help and direction, I am going to find Francesca. It’s the only way healing can manifest. As for Mother, she has to own up to her mistakes. She has to be the one to go to God for forgiveness, and then she has to ask Francesca for forgiveness and maybe even Rena. But that’s between her and God.”

  Through tears, Pastor raised up his bowed down head. “Yes, I know she does. I feel like a ton of weight has been placed on my back. I’m just so sorry. So sorry all of this happened . . . and right before my very eyes. Stiles, please find Francesca. Bring her home; bring my little girl back home where she belongs. And,” he sighed, “I think I’ll take you up on the offer to stay at your place for a day or two. I’ll be there later.” Pastor turned and walked away.

  “Good, let me go to the car and get my extra garage remote.” Stiles returned and gave the remote to Pastor. “I’ll get the bed turned back for you too.” Stiles left and Pastor stood still for a moment. The tears in his eyes had dried and crusted.

  Later that same evening, Pastor came to spend the night. Like Stiles promised, he allowed his father his privacy. He showed him to the guestroom, told him where everything was, and then disappeared to his bedroom.

  Audrey felt the emptiness of having Pastor gone. It did calm her down somewhat to know that he was spending the night at Stiles’s house—that much he had told her. She hoped he would be home tomorrow. She and Pastor had been together too long for their marriage to be in trouble. He had always been her provider, her nourisher, her lover, and her best friend. He loved Stiles like he was his biological son; and to prove it, he had adopted Stiles when they first got married. Audrey looked in the bathroom medicine cabinet and took her nightly blood pressure and arthritis medications. She climbed in the king-sized bed and looked over at the empty side. She caressed the place where Pastor always laid. Her hand remained there.

  The following morning, Stiles woke up early. He listened to the whippoorwills singing praises to God; their morning tunes. It was five forty-five. The automatic coffee machine had done its job. Stiles lay in his bed for awhile and read his daily morning scripture. He said a prayer to God, then went to the bathroom to groom himself.

  When he finished in the bathroom, Stiles sat at the kitchen counter and began to think about last night’s visit. He assumed that Pastor must have been still asleep because Stiles didn’t hear him shuffling around, nor had the extra coffee cup been touched that Stiles had sat out the night before for Pastor. He pressed the garage remote, and Pastor’s car was gone.

  When Stiles left his parent’s home the night before, he’d left them in a terrible state; especially Audrey. It had been tough to expose his own mother, but he had to be true to the man God had called him to be. Audrey was wrong, so wrong for turning away from the hurt and pain experienced by her own child. But the past was the past, and now the only way for positive change was through finding Francesca and bringing her home to the family that loved her.

  Stiles thought a time or two about his life. The reflection he saw standing in the bathroom mirror earlier was not one that he was proud of either. Part of him felt like Audrey. He was no better than his mother. How could he talk about forgiveness and repentance when he had allowed Rena to leave town without so much as telling her good-bye. He let her walk away, knowing that she was sorry for the wrong she’d done. He had condemned and judged her. But he was the man of God, the one who based his teachings on God’s forgiveness and the fact that there is no self-condemnation with God. How could he let his wife walk away? The man in the mirror had quite a bit of soul searching of his own to do.

  He finished his coffee, and then got dressed. He peeped in the guestroom to check on Pastor. Stiles half smiled when he saw the bed was already made and empty, as if Pastor hadn’t slept in it at all. Stiles shrugged and then turned and walked to the kitchen. He didn’t act too surprised when he saw that Pastor’s car was gone too.

  Stiles faced a long day, complete with staff meetings, answering church e-mail, and studying his sermon for the week. The day turned out just as Stiles had predicted. There were numerous church issues to discuss, people to counsel and visit, and a host of other pastoral duties. By the time he made it home, it was close to seven o’clock. One of the first items on his agenda was to start a real search for his sister. He went online and searched for the next two hours without finding a clue that could possibly lead him to Francesca. Tired, exhausted, and no closer to finding Francesca, Stiles decided that a piping hot shower might help ease some of the tension.

  The shower did its intended job. He felt a little more relaxed when he stepped out of the shower into the steam filled bathroom. He draped a bath towel around his defined waist and walked into the bedroom. He dried off, and then shuffled through one of the dresser drawers until he pulled out a pair of deep blue pajama pants to put on.

  Stiles strolled slowly down the hallway and into the kitchen. He prepared himself a plate of left over spaghetti and meatballs he had in the fridge, warmed two pieces of garlic toast and made a nice size garden salad. While he ate, he went over his notes for Sunday’s sermon until his eyelids became heavy as lead. He stood, stretched, went to the sink, and washed his plate and fork.

  Outside, heavy drops of rain started to pour, released from the black clouds looming over the city of Memphis. Thunder roared mightily. Stiles smiled and said, “The angels are bowling,” something the Grahams often told him and Francesca when it thundered. Lightning flaunted its power with round after round. Stiles peeped out of the kitchen window over the sink. Trees, hundreds of years old, swayed against the rushing winds that only God could make cease. The fall of the year was his favorite season. Tonight it seemed like the earth itself was in a rage all of its own. With each bolt of lightning and thunderous clap, Stiles jerked. The power of God was beyond his comprehension. The handiworks of God could only be felt through his finite mind. Stiles watched the storm longer than he intended, then turned and walked up the hall to his bedroom. He would put off his online search for Francesca until the thunderstorm ceased.

  Stiles knelt down on the side of his bed and praised God for all He had done. He prayed for his search of Francesca, for healing of his family, and most of all, forgiveness for the wrong he’d committed.

  Stiles went boldly before the congregation the following Sunday morning and explained that he was searching for Francesca and asked for the prayers of his congregation. Audrey and Pastor were not there, but Stiles couldn’t allow their absence to interfere with what God had called him to do. He didn’t feel it was necessary to go into all of the details, but he did believe that it was God who directed him not to shield his congregation from what was going on in his own life. Most of them had probably come up with their own conclusions anyway. Maybe in all of this, people would see that he truly was an ordinary man, called to do extraordinary things for God. He emphasized how much he needed them to intercede on behalf of himself and his family.

  Daily, Stiles searched and held weekly update meetings with his search team. On his days off from church, mostly one day a week, Stiles spent his time trying to locate people who knew Francesca. He especially wanted to find Francesca’s sidekick, Kansas. It seemed likely to him that if Kansas could be located, then the puzzle pieces to Francesca’s disappearance might begin to fit together.

  It took several weeks, but Stiles did find out information about Kansas. She had died from AIDS about two weeks prior. Stiles had been told by one of Kansas’s street friends that she was buried at the Pauper’s Cemetery. He went there and there were no headstones, only small markers with names inscribed on them. It took awhile, but he managed to find the spot where Kansas lay. He placed a bouquet of flowe
rs on her grave and prayed over her soul.

  Chapter Six

  “I’m starting with the man in the mirror . . .”

  ~Michael Jackson~

  Francesca had adjusted well to her new life in Newbern, Tennessee. She loved her cozy apartment and the many new friends she made both in the complex and at church. Since giving her life totally to Christ and being baptized for a second time, Francesca believed there was nothing that God couldn’t do. She had not had a herpes outbreak since before leaving Memphis, which had been months ago. She found a great doctor in nearby Dyersburg whom she liked. The doctor happened to attend the same church as Francesca too. Continued testing, eating healthy, living healthy, and having a positive attitude aided in Francesca’s well being. There was no reason to believe that she would ever get full blown AIDS. Her faith refused to allow her to believe such. As for the old Frankie, she was gone and had been transformed into Francesca Graham. No more getting high, no more cigarettes, no more same sex relationships, no more ill will toward her life and the mistakes she’d made over the years. She still wrestled with the molestation and rape, but God was dealing with her in that area of her life too. And as for the feelings she had about her parents, she was still seeking God in that area as well.

  Francesca was definitely on her way to full recovery in more ways than one. Her spiritual journey had certainly begun. During one of her regular counseling sessions at her church, she learned that true forgiveness was evident when those who believe in God can truthfully and sincerely pray for those who wronged them. Francesca had a difficult time with this part of her journey. Every time she kneeled down to give God praise and honor and to pray for others, somehow she always managed to bypass Fonda, Minister Travis, and Audrey. She prayed easily for Rena, Stiles, Pastor, and Kansas too; not knowing of Kansas’s death. God had brought her a long, long way.

  Francesca sat on the floor of her living room. Her eyes were focused on the documentary about planet Earth, but her mind was fully not on the images before her. She thought back to how she’d come to this awesome point in life.

  “What can wipe away your sins?” she remembered the preacher asked and answered himself. “Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Someone in here needs the stench of sin wiped away from their life. Someone in here needs to know that God is a forgiving God.” His voice escalated. “I tell you, someone in this very place needs to know that God is a habit breaker; that he is a healer and a deliverer. Someone, I tell you, needs to know that God is the God of second chances, third chances, and unlimited chances. Someone needs to know that God is a God of suddenly. He can suddenly turn your darkness into light. The God I serve can suddenly right your wrongs. He can suddenly save your sin sick soul, and he can make a broken life whole. Oh yes, God can.”

  The preacher stretched out his arms toward the gathering of people. “Come to Jesus. All who are burdened and heavy laden. He will give you rest. Surrender your all to Him. He will work it out.”

  From the back pew that day, Frankie listened to the preacher. At that moment, she felt like there was no one else around. He was speaking directly to her. She saw him. The spirit within that she had closed the door on so many years ago, began to speak to her heart. She needed what she now had come to understand that only God could give her deliverance. Easing from her seat, she excused herself and moved past each person until she stood in the aisle. Walking slowly, limping and wounded in more than her physical body, she moved toward the front of the church and yielded her broken life and spirit to God.

  On that Sunday, when Francesca walked to the front of the apartment church and was ushered inside, she returned to her own apartment renewed and restored. She quickly became known by the ever growing congregation. The main church was located several miles from Francesca’s apartment, but she didn’t let a lack of transportation hold her back. When the church discontinued the services at the apartment due to its phenomenal growth, Francesca made arrangements for the church’s van to pick her up every Sunday and for mid-week service.

  Once wounded and with a life that had spiraled out of control, Francesca began to see herself the way that God saw her. She was blessed, saved, much loved and adored by God--she belonged to Him, and for the first time in her life, Francesca believed that God loved her.

  Chapter Seven

  “In real love you want the other person’s good. In romantic love you want the other person.

  ~Margaret Anderson~

  The next few weeks went by quickly. Rena and Robert spent more time together. It didn’t take long for them to discover they were alike in many ways. Both were lonely. Both of them were dealing with the agonizing blows caused by broken hearts. Rena didn’t share as much depth about the break-up of her marriage, but she did let Robert know as much as she could without divulging the ugliness of her past, which haunted her more times than not.

  Being in a semi-relationship, with a man like Robert, was awkward at times for Rena. First of all, dating a man with children, small children at that, was new, but Rena found it refreshing as well. She loved children, but often believed her hopes had been dashed of ever having children of her own because of the horrid mistakes of her past that she lived with everyday. She had not had many outbreaks since moving to Andover, probably because she was under less stress. Her mother had been the catalyst to helping her accept God’s forgiveness and talking to her about forgiving herself. She’d had another HIV test since returning to Andover too, and it had turned out negative. But knowing that she had herpes, an incurable STD, forced her to do all she could to keep her emotions in check with Robert, whom she was growing to like more each time they spent time together, whether it was an evening at home watching movies with his kids, or sharing private, alone time with each other over an intimate dinner, or a walk in the park. Robert was invigorating. He wasn’t pushy at all; probably because he was still wounded from the piercing shot to the heart left by the absence of his wife.

  On one of their evenings spent together, Robert, Rena, and his kids had an explosive time at Rena’s house. The evening had gone perfectly. It was on a Friday night, and Robert, Rena, and the kids had a fun evening watching a family comedy, eating pizza, and drinking fresh homemade smoothies that Rena made. After a long evening, the children had both fallen sound asleep. Robert and Rena carried them into her guest bedroom, and she and Robert cuddled on the sofa, her head nestling on his shoulder. It was times like these when thoughts of Stiles popped in her head. Tonight she pushed them aside and instead tried concentrating on what Robert was saying. Tunes from the seventies were playing at a low volume on the music channel.

  Robert’s hands twirled the curls in her hair. “You know, I love times like this,” he said softly. “You’re such an amazing woman to accept me and my kids. They’re crazy about you, you know.”

  “I feel the same way about them,” answered Rena and cuddled closer to Robert when he started caressing her shoulder. She could feel his breath blowing slightly against her forehead. He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  “Rena, I like you. I really do. You’re the first woman I’ve even thought of seeing since Karen walked out on us. I want you to know that I would never take you for granted or hurt you in any way,” he whispered in her ear. “You mean too much to me,” he said and lifted her chin so her eyes met his intense gaze. Before she could respond to his words, he kissed her with fervor and unbridled passion. He used the back of his hand to caress her face lightly.

  Rena returned the intensity of his kiss and held on to him like she was afraid if she released him, he would flee. With each kiss, their desire reached a higher pitch. His hands explored and her body responded. When Robert’s words turned to groans of want, Rena hesitated before she pulled away from his embrace.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked her in a panting voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Rena looked away. Oh God. What do I say? How do I get through this?“Robert, I want us to take things slowly. We’ve both been hurt. We’ve both go
ne through a traumatic divorce. We still have a lot of baggage and a lot of soul searching to do before either of us can think about a relationship. You’re a great man, a wonderful father, and a man who fears God.” She continued to talk, not sure if she were making any sense. “I just think we need to slow down and let our friendship grow at its own pace before anything. And I don’t want to have sex outside of marriage. I know it might sound old fashioned to you, but it’s what God has placed in me, and I can’t disobey Him.” She exhaled, and then dared to look at the expression on his face.

  She was surprised to see a smile form on his lips. “You know, that’s what makes you so special.” He kissed her again, this time it was a peck on her lips. “I totally understand, and I agree with everything you’ve said. I want you; that I won’t lie about. But I don’t want to compromise our relationship. I don’t want to jump into anything too fast myself, especially because of the kids. I have to be cautious who I allow in their lives. You’re great with them, but like you said, we need to grow into this thing. We need to see where it’s going. And I do, more than anything, want to please God, Rena.” After having said that, he stood up from the sofa and jiggled his right leg before he turned and grabbed hold of her hand. He helped her get up from the sofa.

  Rena looked somewhat puzzled. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to go and get my kids, bundle them up, and we’re going home. I’ve had a great time with you, Rena, like I always do. But you and I both know if I stay here one minute longer, I won’t be liable for what I desperately want to do make love to you.” Robert sighed.

  Stuttering slightly, Rena agreed with him. Though reluctant, she knew there was no way she would make love with Robert. She couldn’t think of the possibility until she saw exactly what the future held for them, if it held anything. Then and only then, as much as she liked him, would she even consider telling him about her STD, and the real reason for the dissolution of her marriage.

 

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