“I hear you.” Stiles responded without making any promises. “I was talking about Kansas. She was one of the people I went searching for. I’m sorry to hear about her death,” he said.
“Kansas is dead? Oh my God.” Francesca cried into the phone. “When, how did it happen?” she asked him.
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew. She died from complications of AIDS a few weeks ago, from what I heard.”
Stiles listened as Francesca cried over the phone.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, Francesca. Will you let me come to see you? Tell me where you are,” Stiles pleaded.
Francesca didn’t answer.
“Francesca, are you all right?” he asked.
“Sure. I just didn’t know; I can’t believe Kansas is dead. Here, I am doing well. I’ve made a great start by joining a church; I attend services every Sunday, joined the choir, and I attend a recovery support group at the church twice a week. I haven’t tried to reach out to my friends like Kansas; I haven’t heard from any of my old sidekicks since I moved away, so I didn’t know about her.”
“How are you doing, really, sis?” Stiles asked.
“Well, as for my HIV, I learned through the recovery group that it’s another one of those things I’ll have to accept and learn to live with; and that it hasn’t turned to AIDS. The most important thing I’ve come to understand is that none of the molestation and rape that happened to me when she was a child was my fault. I’ve learned that God has somehow made me stronger even though my life was a total wreck at one time.” She sniffled into the phone. “God breathed a new breath into my physically ill body. He’s shown me how to be a help to others who are in similar situations and endured similar circumstances. Through the church ministry, I’m embraced, loved, and shown the forgiveness of God. I speak at schools and other churches in the area and always leave feeling invigorated and cleansed. For the first time in my life, Stiles, I know what it means to be accepted, loved, and most of all, forgiven.
“Thank God for His tremendous favor over your life,” Stiles told her, but Francesca said nothing. Only silence penetrated the phone lines. “Francesca? Francesca, are you still there?” Stiles asked her after silence passed back and forth between the sister and brother.
“Yes, I’m here. It’s just that I can’t say what I’m feeling right now. It’s so much to take in. I mean you calling out of the blue. Then Kansas; man, Kansas is dead. That’s wild. What’s that all about? I mean I’ve been trying to live my life. Tryin’ to be me. Then you pop up and want to get all up in my business and stuff. I don’t need it from you, man. I don’t need it from Pastor, Audrey, nobody.” Francesca yelled into the phone receiver.
“Just let me come to see you, Francesca. I promise I won’t stay any longer than you want me to. But I really do need to talk to you, and I don’t want to do it on the phone.”
Silence.
Francesca finally spoke and told Stiles he could come to Newbern. She gave him the address and told him to Map-Quest the directions.
Stiles agreed, and the two of them hung up. Stiles thought about the news he had to share with Francesca, as if telling her about Kansas wasn’t bad enough. Audrey had been involved in a wreck two days before while leaving from the mall. She fell asleep at the wheel, which was not like Audrey at all. Tests were still being done to determine what happened, if anything, to cause her to fall asleep at the wheel when Pastor said she had just gotten up out of the bed cheery and energized. It wasn’t the type of news Stiles wanted to share over the phone. He wanted to be face to face with his sister, to comfort her and to hold her and reassure her that everything would be all right.
The next afternoon, around mid-day, Stiles visited Francesca. It was raining harder than ever. Thunder clapped and lightning danced across the darkened sky. It was a spectacle of beauty. For Stiles, it symbolized one of God’s many ways of showing mankind that He is the one who rules the heavens and the earth.
Stiles took I-40 West to I-55 North until he came to I-55 East. He made record time to the city of Newbern, arriving in less than two hours despite the heavy downpour. He listened as his GPS navigated him directly to Pattie Lane Apartment Community, which turned out to be a small, beautifully landscaped property. He was stopped by the steel gate and asked to enter his card or to call the person he was visiting. He called Francesca, and she answered right before he was about to hang up.
“Hey, it’s me. Can you let your brother in,” he teased as his shirt sleeve got soaked with rain water. The signal buzzed and the gate slowly opened. Stiles drove directly to her apartment, which was right behind the manager’s office. He parked and grabbed his umbrella and dashed inside. Francesca was waiting at the door.
“My, aren’t you soaked. Why didn’t you just wait until some other time to come? It’s not like this was so urgent you needed to tell me face to face. You could have easily told me whatever it is on the phone.”
Stiles eyed his sister. “You look good, sis,” he complimented.
“So do you, except that you’re drenched. Strip down and I’ll get you one of those whatchamacallits they advertise on TV all the time. You know the ones you slip your arms into and you can still do whatever it is you want to do?”
“Yep, I think I know what you’re talking about. That will be just fine. I had no idea the weather was going to get so nasty. And in a hurry too,” remarked Stiles.
“It doesn’t take God long to make up his mind when it’s something He wants to do,” commented Francesca as she threw him a pink whatchamacallit.
“Oh, thanks a lot”. Stiles giggled.
“It’s that or get butt naked. Your choice.”
“I think I’ll use the whatchamacallit,”he said and laughed again. “Well, thanks a lot, but I’m here now. I’ve got to get out of this soaked shirt and these shoes and socks if you don’t mind.”
“Knock yourself out. The dryer is behind that door next to the kitchen,” she said and used her finger to point in the direction. “You want something to drink? Tea, decaf coffee, or water?”
“No, I’m fine right now. I just want to get dry first.” A boisterous round of thunder caused both of them to jump. Afterward, Francesca laughed. “Remember what Mom and Dad used to tell us when it was thundering and lightning?” she asked with a wide grin on her adorable face.
“Shush, God is talking,” answered Stiles.
They both laughed, and at the same time embraced each other. It was good to see his sister. She looked rather healthy. Her face was radiant and her skin was smooth. Her body was thin, and she appeared to have lost some of the color of her skin, so much so that it was a mixture of what Stiles would describe as apricot and milky. Her face was a little pale, but she still was Francesca, standing proud. Her hair was no longer cut close to her scalp; it was thick dark hair that shined like glass. The potholes and brown stained teeth were no more. This was the Francesca he remembered. This was the Francesca he had missed.
“Girl, you look good,” Stiles told her again. “I like the hair.”
“Thanks,” was all Francesca said.
“I’m glad you finally gave me your address. I’ve wanted to see you for a long time, sis.” Stiles held both of Francesca’s hands and spread the gap between them so he could have a good look at his sister. She still walked with a limp, but she was more beautiful than ever. Her hair was to her shoulders, and the outfit she had on was feminine. A casual pair of jeans, a pale yellow pullover, with yellow and white dangling heart earrings. “I’d say you clean up nicely,” he teased.
Francesca smiled. Her teeth glistened, Look, I’m glad you came. I told you it wasn’t necessary but since you insisted, you may enter my palace, sir,” she said with a slight bow and an extended hand pointing further into her apartment. The apartment was quite cozy. Stiles was somewhat taken aback when he saw the huge gray-striped cat stroll across the room with no fear or hesitation. It only stopped long enough to stare at Stiles, obviously to let him know that he
was the ruler of this palace.
“Wow, he’s big. I never knew you were into cats?”
“There’s a lot you never knew about me, or maybe you just didn’t care to remember. There’s a lot none of you knew about me. Umm, I wonder why that is?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Stiles responded sarcastically in kind with Francesca’s tone. “Let’s see, maybe it’s because half the time we had no idea where you were; or maybe it’s because you were in and out of jail so much that we couldn’t tell if the only habits you had were smoking weed and snorting coke. Didn’t know you had it in you, to care for anyone or anything, when you didn’t give a darn about yourself.”
The color drained from Francesca’s face for only a moment. Long enough for her to shoot an arrow of words back at Stiles. “Well, there’s more to me than that. That was how I used to be. I did the streets in order to avoid the nightmares that I faced at Emerald Estates.”
Stiles shifted his eyes downward and didn’t respond to her statement. “What’s the cat’s name?”
Francesca answered, “Jabez.”
“That’s deep. Taken from 1 Chronicles, 4:10”
“You want a ribbon for knowing that verse or something?”
“No, I don’t want anything. I came here to see you and to tell you about our mother.”
Francesca ignored his response. “He’s a Maine coon cat. Come here, Jabez. Come to Momma.” The cat meowed heavily, then began to purr as he strolled over to Francesca’s waiting arms. She picked him up and rubbed him tenderly and gently underneath his chin. “Oh, wait a second, did I offer you anything to drink or eat?”
“Yes, you offered.”
“Sure you wouldn’t like a slice of bread and a lukewarm glass of water? I’ve grown accustomed to that since I spent so much time in and out of jail, you know.” She laughed hysterically while Stiles looked at her with contempt shining in his eyes.
“You know what?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” was her curt response.
“You’re still self-consumed, full of anger, rage, and unforgiveness. Maybe we didn’t have a home life straight out of the movies. Maybe bad things happened, but they were not your fault, Francesca.”
Francesca moved suddenly, and Jabez jumped off of her lap. She placed both hands over her ears and screamed, “I’m not listening. I’m not listening.” She said it over and over again until she opened her eyes and saw Stiles standing up with his hands searching for a pocket that wasn’t there in his semi dry boxers, one of his nervous habits.
“Well, you need to listen to this,” said Stiles rather angrily. “Audrey was involved in a terrible car accident. I don’t know what she was thinking, but she was driving on the wrong side of the highway and hit a car with two kids and their parents. One kid and its mother died, the other two are in critical condition. As for Mom, she severed her spine. She’s permanently paralyzed from the waist down. She’s in bad shape. Right now they have her on a breathing tube and heavily medicated. She’s going to need full time around-the-clock care. The doctors say that she can understand everything, so you already know she’s devastated. She speaks low and real slow, but in time, the physician said, she should regain use of her voice and her upper body will become stronger too.” Stiles told her in a voice filled with agony.
Francesca basically ignored Stiles. She had loved Audrey so much when she was a little girl, but in the end, she somehow believed Audrey let her down by turning her back on the hurt she had been subjected to. There was no sense in feeling one way or the other toward her mother now.
All she could say in response to Stiles was, “I’m sorry to hear about Audrey.” Pause. “Listen, I have an appointment in a few hours. No need for you to hang around if that’s all you came to tell me. This storm doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up, so really you might need to let me make you a sandwich or something, and then leave.
Stiles reluctantly agreed, and Francesca fixed him a fried smoked sausage sandwich, a handful of potato chips and a soda.
While Stiles ate, he and Francesca continued to talk. “Like I said, I’m sorry about Audrey, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I can put her name on the prayer list at church, and I am glad you came and I got the chance to see you, but seriously, I don’t see a reason for us to keep in touch.
“What are you talking about? I’m your brother; you’re my sister; our mother is in a hospital paralyzed from the waist down and faces two counts of vehicular homicide, and you tell me you don’t see a reason for us to keep in touch!” Stiles couldn’t believe what had just transpired.
Francesca didn’t display one ounce of emotion.
“What do you want from me? You expect me to drop everything here and come to Memphis and act like I’m so sorry and that I’ll be there to take care of her, or something? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, big brother, it’s not like that. I don’t feel a connection to Audrey. I don’t feel anything for her. I have my own life now. I’ve forgiven everyone that wronged me, but that doesn’t mean I have to insert myself back into her life or anyone’s life from my past.”
“No, but I did expect you to have some compassion, some concern for our mother, for Christ’s sake! How can you say you’re healed and you’ve forgiven everybody,” said Stiles as he threw up his hands.
“I’m not you, Stiles. I can’t and won’t go back to the same old thing. I won’t be involved in the discord in our family any longer. I am trying to live a life that’s acceptable to God. I am HIV positive, Stiles. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?” Francesca limped toward the laundry door and opened it. She checked to see if Stile’s clothes were dry. They were. She threw them at him, and he hurriedly put the warm clothes on.
“But all I can tell you is, thanks for coming here and thank you for letting me know about Kansas and Audrey.”
Rain continued to pour down and the thunder clapped outside.
“I understand what you’re saying, Francesca. You won’t let anybody love you. You won’t give your family a chance to redeem themselves. Yes, I admit, our family screwed up,” Stiles said as he dressed. “But we need each other. You say that you’ve forgiven everybody, but have you really? I went so far as to tell Pastor everything about what happened. I searched for the truth and I found it.”
Francesca snapped her head around and closed the laundry door behind her.
“Yes, you heard me correctly,” Stiles said boldly. “I visited Fonda and she admitted what she’d done to you all of those years ago. I told Pastor and Mother about Minister Travis. I told them that Mother knew about you and Fonda all along and did nothing.”
Tears poured down Francesca’s reddened face. She braced herself on a nearby chair. Her body heaved and tears broke loose like a bursting dam.
Stiles fastened the last button on his shirt, and then walked over to Francesca. He grabbed her in his arms and held on to her. She cried like she’d had tears stored up for years and they were finally able to release.
“That’s right; cry, baby sis, cry.” Stiles rubbed and kissed her hair. “I’m so sorry, Francesca. I’m so sorry for everything you’ve had to endure.” He held on to his sister and she held on to him. “Please, think about coming to Memphis to see Mother and Pastor. Pray on it, sis.
Francesca lifted her head and looked at her brother. “I can’t, Stiles. I just can’t see that woman ever again. I’m sorry.”
“Still, think about it. Okay?”
“Okay,” she muttered.
Stiles didn’t believe that she would relent. He asked himself, Why should she?
Chapter Ten
“Be sure that it is not you that is mortal, but only your body. For that man whom your outward form reveals is not yourself; the spirit is the true self, not that physical figure which can be pointed out by your finger.”
~Cicero~
Several weeks of being in a rehabilitation facility didn’t improve Audrey’s mobility. It was like she’d given up her will to go on, to move
forward, and to fight for life. Stiles and Pastor visited her every day, but she refused to accept visitors from members of Holy Rock or from her neighborhood. She told Pastor and Stiles that she couldn’t bare them seeing her sitting up in a special chair like she was a vegetable. Even in her illness, pride was strong enough inside of Audrey to rear its ugly head.
As for Francesca, Stiles confided in his father that he had spoken to her. He kept his promise to Francesca and did not tell Pastor that he had actually seen his sister. He told him about Francesca’s request not to call or bother her anymore. This upset Pastor as much as seeing his beloved wife lying in a hospital bed day after day, with no desire to get better. The only thing Audrey was insistent about was the nursing staff keeping her cleaned and bathed. She fussed when they didn’t keep her room clean enough for her likes, or if they didn’t check on her colostomy bag often enough. She was one demanding patient. From the looks on most of the nurses and certified nursing assistants, it appeared they did not like being assigned to care for her.
Life in the Graham home had truly changed. The family was ripped apart in so many ways that Pastor began to question God. He prayed out in the prayer closet in his bedroom. He asked God questions about Francesca and about Audrey and even about himself. “Why, Lord? What has your servant done to displease you so much? Tell me, Father, and I will repent and do it no more. Lord, I’m praying for restoration for my family. Healing for my wife, forgiveness from my daughter, and your precious will to be done in our lives.”
Audrey was what one would call a tough patient. She was hard to please, more than ever after she was allowed to come home. Her depression and dark days were frequent. She refused to see anyone, and that often included turning her own son away. She couldn’t comprehend why God would allow something so horrific to happen to her. She was still facing possible vehicular homicide charges for killing innocent people. She didn’t remember how it happened and didn’t want to know. All she knew was that Pastor told her that she was driving on the wrong side of the highway when the oncoming car swerved to try to avoid her. But it was too late. Audrey had to be cut out of the car with the Jaws of Life, and two people in the other car were pronounced dead on the scene.
My Son's Ex-Wife: The Aftermath Page 7
