“I will. And if you hear anything else about Francesca and Pastor Graham before we leave tomorrow, call me. If not, then I’ll check with you later on.”
“Okay, baby. Bye.”
“Bye, Ma.”
Rena ended the call. She didn’t have much time to focus on what her mother shared with her, because several students and her volunteer library assistant bombarded her with questions about a number of subjects.
Rena ended the day by tidying up her desk and office to make it easier for the library assistant. She searched around her office to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything she planned to take on her trip. She spotted her jump drive, picked it up, and plopped it inside one of the side pockets in her laptop bag. Before she turned off the light, she glanced around one more time.
At home, Rena thought about what her mother had told her about the Grahams. She went online almost zombie-like and started a search for Dyersburg Hospital. She found the listing and called patient information. She was given the room number and phone number for Francesca. Rena sighed with a bit of relief. If Francesca was in ICU and on a ventilator like Mrs. Hunt told Rena’s mother, then Francesca must be doing better since she had a room number and phone.
Rena looked at the number she’d written down on the pink Post-it note. Should I call? Or do I need to let the past stay in the past? Rena’s concern for Francesca won. She sat on the couch, picked up her landline, and dialed the number. She was greeted by a busy signal but continued to clasp the phone in one hand until the noise finally jarred her from the daze she’d fallen into. She hit the end button and began to pray for Francesca’s health and well-being.
Rena called and talked to Robert and the kids while she prepared a light meal of mixed vegetables and baked cod. Robert was a great guy. Rena loved his sensitivity and kindness. He was a man who had experienced his own share of setbacks in life. He didn’t judge her because of her past; in fact, it endeared Rena to him even more. To be able to look at the dirt of someone’s past, know their faults and the messes they’d made at times in their life, and still love that person was nothing short of the mercy of God. Maybe one day she would love Robert just as much, if not more, than he loved her. There was no mistaking that she loved him, but there were times when Rena’s mind reflected on her sour marriage to Stiles.
He had been her first love, and she wanted it to last forever. But life was not so simple. Things happened that she hated to think about, but the things she had done also helped to shape and mold her into the woman she now was. It was her past that brought her to her present. Frankie was part of her past; so were Stiles and the entire Graham clan. But Frankie had been her dearest and closest friend, too. That was something she could never forget. No matter what happened between them, Francesca had been by her side through some tough times and vice versa. Rena dialed the hospital number again. This time after a second or two of silence, the phone began to ring.
Rena wasn’t expecting to hear the voice on the other end. It wasn’t Francesca’s, that was for sure. “Hello,” the light male voice said.
“Uh, hello. I’m calling for Francesca Graham. Is this the right room?”
“Oh, yes, it is,” the man replied. “Francesca is sleeping right now. I can take a message and let her know you called,” he said politely.
“Oh, okay. That will be fine. My name is Rena. Rena Graham. I’m a friend of Francesca’s. I heard she was in the hospital.”
“Rena Graham?” the man repeated her name into the phone.
“Yes, that’s right.” Rena didn’t bother explaining to the man that she was Stiles’s ex-wife. She didn’t want to go into her personal business with a stranger on the phone. “How is she doing?”
“She’s doing much better. Will she know who you are?”
“Yes, she will. We were best friends for years. I used to live in Memphis, but I’m now in Massachusetts.”
“Okay.” The man sounded as if his memory had just returned. “You were married to Francesca’s brother, right?”
“Yes.” Rena did not want to get into a question-and-answer session about her relationship with the Grahams. All she wanted to know was if Frankie was going to be all right.
“I’m Tim. I’m a friend of Francesca’s. We attend the same church,” he explained.
“I heard that she was in ICU and on a ventilator,” Rena told him.
“She was, but God is a good God. She was taken off the ventilator earlier today. They moved her to a private room. She’s still drifting in and out of consciousness, but that’s mostly because of the medication.”
“I see. Is any of her family there, by chance?”
“No. Her brother left around noon to go back to Memphis. He’s supposed to be back sometime tomorrow. But, like I told him, I live close by and Francesca is special to me, so I’ll be here as much as I’m needed. And there’s always someone calling or coming by from our church to sit and pray with her. God has her in His hands.”
Rena felt herself calming down the more she listened to Brother Tim. His voice soothed her, and somehow she believed that Francesca was in good hands.
“Thank you for letting me know how Francesca is doing. Will you take down my phone number and tell her that I called?”
“I’d be glad to. I’m sure she’ll be excited to know that you called.”
Rena wondered if that would be true. Would Francesca be glad to hear that she had called? They hadn’t spoken since Audrey’s repast. And Rena hadn’t returned the last call Francesca made to her. She’d forgiven Francesca so many times throughout their friendship, but she didn’t want to reopen ongoing communication with her. She wanted her life to be just the way it was. But hearing that Francesca was seriously ill changed Rena’s perspective of everything. Her love for Francesca was still kept tucked away in her heart. She and Francesca had been through it all, and there was no way Rena was going to ignore her during her time of sickness.
“Thank you again, Tim. I’ll call to check on her again soon.”
“You’re welcome. God bless you.”
“God bless you, too,” Rena replied. “Good-bye.”
Rena refocused on preparing for her trip to Boston the next day. She felt honored to be recognized for her work by ALISE. It was more evidence of God’s favor on her life. She sat down on her bed and paused for a few moments after she placed the last item inside her carry-on luggage. So much good was happening in her life. She had a man who simply loved and adored her, and wanted to marry her.
Rena tilted her head and rested her hands in her lap. She replayed several instances when Robert had proposed to her. She always had a reason why she couldn’t marry him. She loved him deeply, or so she believed. But if that was the case, why couldn’t she tell him yes? Why couldn’t she accept the fact that Robert loved her and that her past didn’t determine the future he longed to have with her?
Rena shifted her thoughts to Stiles. He was happily married to a wonderful woman. He had moved on with his life. The fact that his wife had a miscarriage was unfortunate, but Rena viewed it as a sure sign that Stiles and Detria were moving forward with establishing a family. If he could manage to wipe the slate clean and start anew, what was holding her back? She got up and went to her cozy home office. She pulled up her acceptance speech for the upcoming function and printed it out. Reading over the speech helped her think about something other than marriage.
The phone rang. Rena shifted around in the swivel office chair and went into her bedroom. “Hello,” she answered.
“Hi. What are you doing?”
“Well, right now I’m talking to you.”
“All right, smarty-pants,” Robert said.
“It’s the truth.” Rena giggled. She liked joking around with Robert.
“Okay, what were you doing before you started talking to me?”
“I just finished packing, and I printed off my acceptance speech. I was reading over it when you called. What are you doing?” Rena asked.
“Talking to
you,” Robert answered.
“Okay, okay. You got me back,” Rena told him.
“I was thinking . . .”
“What were you thinking, Mr. Becton?”
“I was thinking that when you come back home Thursday morning, I’d meet you and your mother for breakfast.”
“You mean you would miss a day of school to meet me for breakfast? To what do I owe such an offer?” Rena walked slowly across the bedroom floor. A smile stretched wide across her face.
“Oh, what was I thinking? Let’s make that dinner.”
“You are so full of it,” she answered him.
“Yeah, full of love for you,” he said.
“That was corny, Robert. Is that all you’ve got?” They continued to exchange friendly banter. Rena indulged in her conversations with Robert. He had a way of bringing out the best in her.
“Since I have you laughing, let me ask you something. When are you going to marry me and the kids?”
“Robert, don’t put the kids in this. You know I’m a softie when it comes to them.”
“Hey, I have to use what I have. If the kids are what it’s going to take for you to become Mrs. Becton, then that’s what I’ll have to use.”
“You are so mean. You’re using your own kids to get me to marry you? I think I’ll have to report you to the Bureau of People Who Use Kids to Get Other People to Marry Them.”
“And you’re talking about me being corny. That was terrible.” Robert laughed into the receiver. “Seriously, you know I want you to be my wife more than anything, Rena.”
“I know that, Robert. And believe me, I want to be your wife, but I’m just not ready. I still need some time to get me together. I want to be the best wife I can be. You deserve nothing less.”
“Do you love me?” He sounded serious.
“Of course I love you. What kind of question is that?” Rena sat down in her bedroom chaise. “I just need more time. I’ve made far too many mistakes in my life, and I don’t plan on bringing you or the kids in on all of my hang-ups.”
“Hang-ups? You’re never going to be perfect, Rena. No one is. Shucks, you’ve got to let go of the past. It’s time to move on with your life—with our life. It’s hard seeing you every day and not being able to hold you and make love to you. It’s hard for me to come to your place and then leave at the end of the night. I want you lying beside me for the rest of my life.”
Rena listened with the same intensity she always did when Robert brought up the M-word.
“Are you still there?” Robert asked.
“Yes, I’m here. I was listening to you. And I want to be with you, too. Believe me, I do. But something is keeping me stagnated. I don’t want to ruin your life. I don’t want to be a disappointment to you and the kids. You deserve someone who can give you all of themselves, and I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Rena, please. Please, think about it. Pray about it. I want you. The kids want you. We need you.”
“I think about it all the time. I love you. Please don’t doubt that. Just give me a little more time, Robert.”
Rena heard him sigh on the phone. “Sure,” he answered. “I guess I’ll let you get back to rehearsing your speech. I’m going to go in and check on the kids. I’ll see you tomorrow, before you leave.”
“Okay. G’night.”
“G’night, Rena. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Robert.”
Rena leaned back in the chair. What was it? Why couldn’t she just marry Robert? What was she so afraid of? She realized that Robert wouldn’t wait forever. He was a good man, and somewhere out there, if she didn’t step up to the plate, another woman would be more than willing to love him. She wanted to be his wife and not just his woman. She wanted their relationship to be consummated in every way, but that meant commitment. Could she commit herself to him? Because of her herpes, she didn’t know if she could give him children, or if she would transmit the disease to him. There were so many bits and pieces of the puzzle of her life that still needed to be put together. Now that she’d learned Francesca was ill, she worried even more. Was Francesca’s illness due to her HIV or herpes?
Could HIV be lying dormant in her body, waiting to rear its vile head if she chose to marry Robert? She didn’t want to jeopardize Robert’s health. He had children who depended on him. He’d already been through enough with his past wife. Rena didn’t want to be the one to bring along a trunk full of baggage that held all of the junk of her past. Robert was right: she needed to petition God. Only He could help her make the right decision.
She put the phone down and grabbed a novel she had been reading from the table next to her. Rena flipped aimlessly through the pages, unable to concentrate on the book.
The phone rang. “Who could this be?” she said out loud. She looked at the phone, but the call read RESTRICTED. Rena decided not to answer. She didn’t want to be bothered with a telemarketer. All she wanted to do was read and then go to bed. When she attempted to return to her book, the phone disturbed her again. Again, it was a restricted call with no number showing. This time she answered.
“Hello,” Rena answered in a voice any caller would identify as frustrated.
“May I speak to Rena?” the man asked.
A lump formed in the base of Rena’s throat when she recognized that the voice on the other end belonged to Stiles. There was no mistaking his one-of-a-kind, magnetic voice.
“Stiles, this is Rena.”
“Hi. How are you? You sound like you’re teed off about something. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No. I was just reading. The ID says restricted. I usually don’t answer restricted calls, because most of the time it’s a telemarketer. Then you called right back, so I guess you could say that I was rather perturbed.” She repositioned her body more comfortably.
“Brother Tim told me you called the hospital to check on Francesca. He gave me your phone number. I wanted to thank you for calling.”
“Of course. No problem. One of your church members talks to my mother from time to time. She called and told her about Pastor and Francesca. I am so sorry to hear about their illnesses.” Rena did not mention that the woman also told her mother about him and Detria losing their baby.
“News does get around fast, doesn’t it? Anyway, it’s good to know you still care.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Rena was baffled as to why he would question her concern. It wasn’t like she hated any of them. She just couldn’t be friends with Francesca anymore. As for Pastor, he had always been near and dear to her. She sometimes felt she was to blame for his health problems. A flash of memories quickly flooded her mind. It was like reliving the whole incident of Pastor’s first stroke. The harsh argument between her and Francesca that awful day close to three years ago was the catalyst that brought on Pastor’s first stroke. At least, that was what Rena believed. Bouts of guilt over the incident attacked her from time to time—another reason she didn’t feel she should be marrying Robert. She had too many pieces of the past clinging on to her for dear life. Until she could let go and let God totally heal her, there was no way she could give her all to another man. Maybe if she explained it to Robert like that, he would cut her some slack.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t. It’s just a surprise to me, that’s all,” Stiles replied, which yanked Rena from her daydreaming.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked him.
“Nothing really. Anyway, I thought I’d call you back. I spoke to Francesca’s doctor. She’s doing better. She’s not in ICU anymore. They moved her to a private room, and she’s being weaned off the coma-inducing meds. Pastor is in Health South Rehab Center, getting occupational and speech therapy. The doctor believes he’s going to be fine. He’s getting stronger and better every day.”
“Oh, Stiles. That’s good news. Thank you, God,” Rena screamed lightly into the phone. “What’s wrong with Francesca, though?”
“She has an opportunisti
c infection that has a major effect on the lungs. It’s a secondary infection that people with HIV can acquire. It’s usually found in children with HIV, but it’s not limited to children, which is obvious. Unfortunately, it’s life-threatening, and on top of everything else, it’s usually seen in individuals who have AIDS.”
Rena’s right hand involuntarily landed over her heart. “AIDS. Oh, my God. No, Stiles. Please, tell me that Frankie doesn’t have AIDS.”
“I wish I could. God knows I wish I could tell you anything but that.”
Rena felt like her heart was about to explode. She heaved. Each breath she took caused her to get that much more upset. Tears gushed from her eyes. Sobs poured from her throat.
“Rena, please don’t cry. Please, don’t cry,” Stiles begged. “Francesca is going to pull through this. She’s already doing better. Today an AIDS diagnosis doesn’t have to be a death sentence. We have to believe God.”
Rena couldn’t help herself. There was no way she could hear Stiles when she was in this frame of mind. She would be next. She just knew she would. It wasn’t over. She and Francesca were being punished by God for their unnatural, sinful acts. “Oh, no,” she screamed into the phone. “Oh, God, don’t let this be happening. Please,” she continued to scream and sob into the phone. “What if I have HIV? Or, worse, AIDS?”
“Rena, listen to me. Don’t do this to yourself. Now I wish I hadn’t told you. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Stiles said. His voice trembled. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
“Stiles, I have to hang up. I can’t talk anymore. I . . . I’ll talk to you some other time.”
“Wait, Rena. Don’t hang up. Don’t shut me out. Let me call you later on or tomorrow. I’m going to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll call you then.”
“No, I can’t talk to you right now. I can’t talk tomorrow, either. I just need some time to digest this. I’ll call you. What’s your cell phone number?”
“It’s—”
“Hold on,” she said between sobs. “I’ve got to get something to write on.” She stood and stumbled her way to her office. She searched through watery, bloodshot eyes until she saw the pen and Post-its on the computer desk. “’Kay . . . What is it?”
My Son's Next Wife Page 14
