My Son's Wife

by Shelia E. Bell

  Oblivious to Pastor’s presence on the other side of the family room, Frankie and Rena continued their tirade until, without warning, a thunderous thud severed the heated quarrel between the two.

  Rena looked up and gasped when she saw Pastor lying in the floor. His body twitched before it became deftly still. She dashed over to his still figure.

  “Pastor,” Rena screamed. She knelt down beside him and her hand flew up to her mouth when she saw how badly his mouth was twisted. He struggled to speak but his words came out garbled and unintelligible, followed by a look in his eyes of unspoken pain and unresponsiveness.

  Frankie struggled to get up from the chair. As fast as her lame legs would take her, she made her way over to where Pastor lay and looked down at him. Hot tears spilled from her bloodshot eyes. “Daddy, Daddy?” she screamed. With eyes that narrowed like slits, she glared at Rena. “This is your fault. It’s all your fault. Call 9-1-1,” ordered Frankie.

  Rena jumped up from her frozen state like being prodded with a cow brand. She ran to get the phone and called 9-1-1 like she was told. With the phone against her ear, Rena ran back to Pastor. “Operator, I have an emergency at 3290 Pepper Oaks in Emerald Estates. Please send an ambulance.”

  The 9-1-1 operator remained calm. “Tell me what’s going on,” the man asked.

  “It’s my father-in-law. He…he just collapsed on the floor. I think he must have hit his head.”

  “Is he conscious?”

  “Yes, no I mean no, he’s not conscious. He’s bleeding from the back of his head. Please, send someone now,” Rena tearfully pleaded while Frankie called Pastor’s name in the background.

  “Did you say that he’s conscious or unconscious. Ma’am?”

  “He’s not saying anything, but his eyes are open. Oh, my God, don’t let him die. Please don’t let him die.” Rena leaned closer to Pastor’s body. Thank God, he was breathing.

  “Forget all the questions. Tell them to send help,” Frankie screamed. My father needs help now,” she bellowed loudly in the background.

  The 9-1-1 operator assured Rena that help was on the way. Though it seemed like it took ages, an ambulance arrived within minutes. Rena rushed to the door to let them in. Leading them to Pastor, the paramedics immediately began working on him.

  Audrey, returning from the beauty shop, rushed inside when she saw the ambulance parked in the driveway and the front door wide open. What has happened? What has that child of mine done now?

  “Pastor, Pastor what’s going on?” Audrey asked and ran to the family room where she heard all of the commotion. At the sight of Pastor being placed on a stretcher, Audrey went into an uncontrollable outburst. “What…what happened to my husband? Oh, my God,” Audrey sobbed as trembling hands reached out for Pastor, at the same time the paramedics were wheeling him outside to the waiting ambulance.

  Frankie managed to make it outside and planted herself next to her mother. “Audrey, we don’t know what happened. Me and Rena were.”

  “We were talking,” Rena interrupted. “There was no one here but the two of us. The next thing we knew, there was a loud noise. We looked up and Pastor was lying on the floor. We didn’t even know he had come home.”

  “Yeah, and that’s when I told Rena to call 9-1-1,” a distraught Frankie further explained.

  “Ma’am,” the paramedic said, looking in Audrey’s direction. “Are you going to ride in the ambulance?”

  “Yes, certainly,” Audrey answered and allowed the paramedic to help her inside the back of the ambulance next to her husband. With tears still pouring and between sobs, she looked at both Frankie and Rena and said before the ambulance door closed, “Something happened to cause this. It’s always something when you come around,” she accused Frankie. “You rest assured, I’m going to find out,” she threatened.

  In the car with Rena, the ride to the hospital ignited Frankie’s temper even more.

  “If Pastor heard what we were talking ‘bout, I’ll never forgive you.” She shouted so loud, Rena thought the car windows would crack.

  “Forgive me? You must still be doing drugs,” Rena rebuffed. “You’re the one that’s to blame for all of this. If you weren’t so bent on ruining my life, none of this would have happened. Anyway, who’s to say anyway that Pastor heard us?”

  “Never in a million years would I have thought you would turn out to be my worst enemy instead of my best friend.”

  Rena was too mad to reply. Instead, she pushed harder on the accelerator. Simultaneously she reached for her cell phone so she could call and tell Stiles.

  His phone went straight to voice mail─again. Where can he be? Somewhere still pouting, Rena concluded.

  Frankie jerked her head around to glare at Rena. “What are you trying to do, kill us?”

  Rena didn’t bother to answer. She pulled into a parking space, shut off the engine and jumped from the car, leaving Frankie to fend for herself. The compassion Rena normally felt toward others was nowhere to be found; she’d had more than her share of Frankie Graham.

  Rena rushed through the double doors and up the hospital corridor until she arrived at the information desk. Her heavy breathing and rushed talking signaled to the desk clerk that something major had happened.

  “Settle down, Miss,” the nurse told her politely. “Take a deep breath, and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “My, my father-in-law was just brought in here minutes ago.” Rena tried to slow down her speech but found it hard to do. “The ambulance brought him.”

  Frankie arrived at the nurse’s station and quickly exerted her authority. “My father,” Frankie emphasized and gave a wicked look in Rena’s direction, “Pastor Chauncey Graham, was brought in here. Can you tell me where he is?”

  “Are the two of you together?” the nurse asked.

  “Certainly not by choice, but yes, we are,” Frankie answered.

  “Just a minute, let me see what I can find out.”

  Rena paced the milky white corridor while Frankie leaned against the nurse’s station counter. The nurse hastily returned and gave Frankie direction to the Trauma Unit Waiting Room.

  “How is my father?” Frankie demanded to know before she left the nurse’s station.

  “I really can’t tell you anything, ma’am. All I can say is that he’s being examined. The trauma team will tell you something as soon as they know something.”

  Silence completed their walk to the Trauma Unit. Rena glanced at Frankie as she hobbled down the hall like she was propelling her weak body to move as fast as she could. Rena engaged in thoughts of her husband and his whereabouts. Concerned for Pastor, Rena ignored the ‘No Cell Phone Use’ sign and dialed Stiles’s number again─voice mail.

  A gentleman stepped ahead of Frankie and opened the door when she reached the Trauma Unit. Stiles and Audrey were already there. Rena couldn’t imagine how Stiles made it to the hospital before her and he hadn’t bothered to return her calls. Her anger was quickly forgotten and she bypassed Frankie, running into his arms. Rena released a fresh bucket of tears that spilled on to Stiles’s crisp white dress shirt. He held on to her and rested his head on top of hers.

  Frankie stood alone at the entrance, watching the scene that played before her. Audrey, with red eyes, sat with one hand supporting her bowed head.

  Rena eased back and looked up at her husband. “How is he?”

  “I don’t know. I just arrived before the two of you,” he answered as his eyes shifted toward Frankie. “Mother said the doctors are still working on him. They haven’t told her a thing since they brought him here, only that he’s still unconscious.” The worry was evident in Stiles’s speech. He shifted his weight from side to side and rubbed his hair with the palm of his hand. “What happened? Mother says that you and Frankie were there when Pastor collapsed.”

  Frankie had made her way to where Stiles and Rena stood and heard his question.

  “Rena and I were in the family room talkin’, so we don’t know when Pastor came in
. All I can tell you is that we heard a loud noise, looked up and saw him lying in the floor. He must have fallen and hit his head on the end table.”

  Rena fidgeted with each word Frankie spoke.

  “What exactly were you two talking about that was so important that you didn’t hear him come inside?” questioned Stiles.

  Frankie spoke up, but not before Rena said, “Now is not the time to discuss that. We’re here to see about Pastor.”

  “I agree,” Rena butted in.

  “Anyway, I’m sure your wife will tell you everything very soon. Won’t you, Rena?” Frankie coyly remarked, with an upraised eyebrow and a sneer on her hardened face.

  Rena sashayed off in the direction of Audrey without saying a word. Sitting next to her, she wrapped her arm around Audrey’s shoulders and hugged her.

  “Everything is going to be fine, you’ll see.”

  Audrey rocked back and forth, hot tears streamed down her face. Stiles consoled Frankie until Audrey called for him to come to where she sat. He took hold of his sister’s arm and guided her along with him.

  After making sure Frankie was seated comfortably, Stiles sat down next to Audrey. Rena was still seated on the other side of her mother-in-law. Audrey looked up when she saw the doctor walking toward them.

  “Mrs. Graham?” he asked, looking at each woman.

  “I’m Mrs. Graham,” Audrey answered. “How is my husband? Is he conscious?”

  The dark haired doctor sat in the chair across from the Graham family. “Your husband has suffered an ischemic stroke. He probably hit his head after falling when he had the stroke. Unfortunately the fall made his condition worse. He has regained consciousness and right now we have him stable, but he’s still not out of the woods just yet.”

  Audrey cried and Stiles pulled her against him for support. Frankie’s eyes filled with tears too while Rena sat across from the doctor in distress.

  “May I see him?”

  “Ma’am, not right now, I’m afraid; maybe in a couple of hours. We want to run a few more tests to make sure he didn’t sustain any brain injury. Like I said, he’s stable, but he’s still in serious condition.”

  “Doctor, can you tell if the stroke did any permanent damage?” asked Stiles.

  “I can’t say if there will be permanent damage, but he is experiencing some paralysis on the right side. He’s is quite disoriented and has difficulty speaking. We’re working to get his blood pressure under control. There is a chance that his long term care can be improved since he arrived in the emergency room fairly soon after having the stroke which gave us the chance to treat him right away.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Stiles told him. “We appreciate you.”

  The doctor stood and Stiles did as well. Stiles extended his hand in gratitude and the two men shook hands. He then turned to Audrey. “Mrs. Graham, we’re doing everything we can. You have my word, as soon as it’s okay for you to see him, the nurse will be in to let you know.”

  “Thank you,” Audrey whispered solemnly.

  Rena and Frankie remained quiet, hanging on to every word being exchanged.

  Rena’s mind flooded with a bevy of questions. How much, if anything, did Pastor hear? Were she and Rena responsible for his stroke? What will he say when he begins to talk?

  Frankie pulled herself up from her chair. She watched Rena’s facial expression as she managed a small, tentative smile when Stiles sat down and embraced her. You’re going to pay for all the trouble you’ve caused. There’s no way I’m gonna walk around crippled, while you come off like the Virgin Mary. If it’s the last thing I do,” Frankie thought. “Stiles will know everything about you, Miss Rena. Believe that.

  25

  Lucky is the man who is the first love of a woman, but luckier is the woman who is the last love of a man. Unknown

  Pastor’s doctor made his daily rounds. Like always, Audrey was by her husband’s bedside.

  “Hello, Pastor Graham. Are you about ready to go home?” the short statue doctor asked Pastor with a broad grin on his face.

  One corner of Pastor’s mouth pulled into a slight smile and he could hardly lift his voice beyond a whisper. “Yes,” he strained to respond.

  “Doctor, may God bless you for everything you’ve done to help my husband.” Audrey’s face split into a wide grin too. “This has been the most dreadful two weeks I’ve experienced.”

  “I want to go over your condition,” the doctor said and glanced from Pastor to Audrey. “The stroke left you with right-sided weakness which is the reason you’re unable to do much, if any ambulating right now. I believe with physical therapy, you might be able to eventually walk with the use of a walker or quad cane. You’ll continue to have problems with your cognitive thinking, attention span, and short-term memory, which may or may not improve over time; it’s hard to say.” His voice remained calm and his continued to shift.

  “And his speech? You know he is a preacher. It’s his whole life.” Audrey’s voice was shakier than she would have liked.

  “It’s hard to give you a definitive answer. However, I believe with speech therapy, it will improve. I wish I could tell you that you’ll fully recover your speech, Pastor Graham, but again, only time will tell. I’ve written in your discharge papers that you’re to attend physical therapy three times a week and speech therapy two times a week over the next few months. I want to see you back in the office in one month.” The doctor reached down and grasped Pastor’s hand and shook it lightly. “Do you have any other questions?” he asked patiently.

  Audrey nodded her head and Pastor remained silent.

  Holy Rock faced the repercussions of Pastor’s illness just as much as the Graham family. Gone, for now, were the days of Pastor’s prolific preaching and soul-stirring sermons. The deacons and trustees nominated Stiles to step up as Interim Pastor. The nomination was presented to the congregation that Stiles should have the position.

  Stiles sat on the bed in his pajama pants and ran his fingers through his short hair. His eyes darkened with emotion while he peered at the notes he held in his other hand. “I dreamed of one day following in my father’s footsteps, and being the Pastor of Holy Rock. I wanted his legacy to live on. I wanted to fill his shoes, Rena, but not like this.” Stiles put the sermon that he’d prepared for Sunday worship service on the nightstand.

  “Baby, this is what Pastor wants.” Rena lovingly stroked his back. Their home life was still strained but aside from their bedroom issues, Stiles could count on Rena being a good wife. She stepped up to the plate and supported him fully. “He can’t preach any more, so you know he wants you to keep sending forth the word of God.”

  Stiles relaxed and laid his head on Rena’s shoulder.

  “There’s no time to dwell on the way you hoped things would be. The future is here and you’re the shepherd of Holy Rock now. Lead your sheep, sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing because God is on your side and so am I.”

  Stiles preached with boldness at Sunday worship. “O Lord, my God, your people called out to you for help and you healed the man of God. Some of you might say that Pastor isn’t healed because he can’t speak like he used to. But I’m here to tell you this morning, that Pastor is healed because he is alive. The devil may have stilled his tongue, and his body may be frail, but God will not be stopped,” Stiles’s voice rang with vigor and faith. The congregation seemed like it was on fire. Hands went up in the air, the organist played mightily and shouts of praises resonated throughout the packed sanctuary.

  “He’ll make the rocks cry out in praise if He has too. Not only is He a healer, but He’s Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord who provides. Stiles jumped up and down in the pulpit. “I feel my help coming. Yes, yes, yes. I said I feel my help coming, y’all!” Stiles preached with surety. “God is Jehovah Nissi, God our Banner, Jehovah-Shalom, the Lord of Peace, Jehovah Tsidneku, The Lord of Righteousness, Jehovah-Rohi, the Lord Our Shepherd. I can keep telling you who God is, but you need to know Him for yourself.”

>   “Tell it, Pastor. Preach the word.” Rena sat on the second row, her heart about to burst with praise for the work God was doing in Stile’s life and the healing in hers. God had given her a second chance. When the choir broke out singing, Marvin Sapp’s, never would have made it, never could have made it without you, Rena couldn’t sit any longer. She stood, reared her head back and began clapping her hands and praising God.

  Monday morning, Rena waltzed into Dr. Mitchell’s office with calm assurance. Her outbreaks had ceased since she started her prescribed medication. It was difficult but she managed to abstain from sex, even though at times it seemed like it would destroy her marriage. Her check-up with Dr. Mitchell left her feeling refreshed, revived and renewed when he gave her clearance to engage in sex, except during the times she felt the signs of an outbreak. Rena could be the wife Stiles deserved, totally and completely. If she became pregnant, she believed God would work that out as well. She thought back to what Dr. Mitchell told her. There are people walking around every day leading successful lives, fulfilled happy marriages and healthy children, who have the same STD. “If you worked it out for them, being no respecter of persons, Lord I know you’ll take care of me too,” she said and climbed in her car.

  After leaving Dr. Mitchell’s office, Rena went to work. The day moved quickly. Her supervisor, Mr. Bolden, commented and chuckled, “Rena, I don’t know what it is, but it seems like you have an extra stride in your step today. I know you haven’t been feeling the best these past few months but it seems like the old Rena is slowly coming back.” He patted her on her shoulder, glad to see the fresh smile on her face.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bolden. I do feel better, much better.” When he walked away, Rena turned and focused on the computer screen. She hummed the song from yesterday’s service while she worked.

  On her way home from work, Rena stopped at the store and picked up several of Stile’s favorite foods. She was going all out for her husband tonight. Tonight would be the end of worrying about anything, including Frankie. She’d experienced enough outbreaks to know the signs of an oncoming one, and Dr. Mitchell told her that he believed she would be just fine. The longer she took her medication, the fewer her outbreaks would be, he had told her. And she had to keep her stress levels down. What better way to reduce her stress than by making love to her husband?