“Marry me, then. I want you so badly, Rena. I don’t understand what the holdup is.” Robert’s sense of frustration was obvious in the pleading tone of his voice.
“Robert, why do we have to talk about this now? Can’t we just enjoy spending some alone time together? Hey, it’s nice outside. Why don’t we go take a walk in Andover Park?” Rena suggested. She turned around and headed for her room, but Robert reached out and stopped her.
“I don’t want to go to the park. I want to go to a justice of the peace.”
Thoughts of Stiles’s interrogation minutes before returned. “Robert, do we have to do this?”
Rena didn’t know how much longer she could put off marrying Robert. She had given him every excuse she could think of not to, but he was not about to give up. What was wrong with her, anyway? She heard Stiles call her Mrs. Graham. Why would he mess with her head like that when he was a happily married man? A preacher at that. The nerve of him. She looked at Robert and blurted out words she wished she could take back as soon as she said them.
“If you want to get married, then fine, Robert. We’ll get married.”
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“What do you mean, am I serious? Of course, I’m serious. You keep hounding me about marrying you. Now that I tell you I will, you act like you’re stunned.”
She didn’t mean to snap at him, but she was confused and mad at the same time—confused because she wasn’t sure what she felt for Robert sometimes, and mad because Stiles had pushed her buttons—again. What he possibly got out of taunting her, Rena couldn’t begin to guess. It wasn’t like Stiles still loved her and wanted to be with her. Even if he did, there was no way that could happen. She was not about to be anybody’s other woman. As for Robert, sometimes he reminded her of Stiles, especially when he was like he was today—demanding and pushing her to marry him. How many times had she told him she would marry him when the time was right? Her conversation with her ex forced her to say yes to Robert before thinking.
“Hounding you? Is that what you think of me? I love you. I don’t mean to hound you.” He turned her loose and walked over to the sofa and sat down. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” she said and placed one hand on her hip. “What do we need to talk about, Robert? You asked me to marry you, and I said yes. Now you don’t seem satisfied with that answer. What do you want from me?” Both hands flew up in the air out of frustration. She placed one hand on her forehead and took several awkward steps around the living room.
“Hey, come on. Calm down. Please,” Robert replied. “Come sit down next to me. I promise I won’t try anything. Let’s just relax. You seem tense.”
Rena accepted his invitation. She parked herself next to him on her sofa. Robert reached around and placed his arm around her and brought her in closer to him. He was true to his word. He didn’t say anything nor did he try to kiss her. Several seconds passed without an exchange of conversation.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked her.
“Talk about what?”
“Whatever has you in this mood.”
She made the quote sign with her fingers and said, “I’m not in a mood, Robert. I just get tired of people always trying to find out what I’m thinking and trying to force me to do things that I’m not ready to do.”
“I’m not people, Rena. I’m your boyfriend, fiancé, or whatever you call me. I don’t know who’s been pressuring you or trying to force you to do anything, but it’s not me. Now, do you want to talk about it or not?”
“I’m sorry, Robert. I guess I’m just tired. I’ve been on the go for the past few weeks. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s all it is. I love you, and I do want to marry you. But I want to be sure about my marriage this time, Robert. I worry about whether we’ll be able to have children. I don’t want to give you herpes. And what if I end up with HIV? What then? I know you say that you’re okay with my past, but I’m not okay with my past, if that makes sense.”
Rena looked at him intently. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Robert. He was a good man. He treated her with the utmost respect, admiration, and love. He was a man who loved God. Most of all, he was a man who said her past did not dictate their future. But Rena wasn’t so sure.
“It makes sense, but how many more times do I have to tell you that I don’t care about your past? I could have walked out when Francesca called herself, telling me all about you and her at Audrey’s repast, and no one would have blamed me for doing so. But I stayed because I love you. As for the herpes, Rena, I plan on being with you for the rest of my life. I can’t be overly concerned about something that may or may not happen. That bridge will have to be crossed if we ever get to it. The same about HIV. You’ve been getting tested every six months like the doctor suggested, and your test comes out negative every time. You have to believe, Rena. As for children, there’s nothing that stands in the way of you having children. I know there’s a chance that a pregnancy for you might mean complications for a baby, but we have to stand on the Word of God. We have to give all of our concerns to Him, sweetheart.” Robert leaned his head against hers. “I love you, Rena. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wish you felt the same.”
“I do, Robert. Just give me time.”
“I don’t want to sound pushy, but I guess I am. How much more time do you need, Rena?”
“Robert, we need time to learn more about each other. You don’t even know if your children’s mother will come barging back into your life. What are you going to do if that happens?”
“Rena, stop making excuses already. Don’t make this about me or my ex-wife, because you know it’s not about that. It’s about you and me.” Robert pounded a flat hand against his chest. His face turned a shade lighter.
“I don’t want to do this right now,” Rena yelled. “Why can’t we just go out and spend some time together, just you and me?” Rena turned and looked at Robert again. His face appeared to be drained of color. “Robert.” She grabbed his hand. “I don’t like to see you upset with me. I want to make you smile and laugh.”
“You know what? Sorry if I don’t feel like laughing right now.” Robert stood and took off in the direction of the front door. “I’m out of here.”
Rena quickly stood up and took hold of Robert’s elbow in an effort to stop him from leaving. “Don’t do this, Robert. You’re acting really petty right now.”
Robert snatched his arm out of Rena’s grip. “Petty? Is that what this conversation is to you? Petty? You know what, Rena? You might just be right. Maybe I’m the one taking this too seriously. But I thought loving someone, proposing to that person, and wanting to spend the rest of your life with that person was serious. Thanks for setting the record straight.” Robert hurried to the front door and opened it. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Before Rena had time to respond, Robert had walked outside and closed the door behind him.
Rena opened the door and chased after him. “You are so full of it,” she shouted.
Robert kept walking toward his car. This display of avoidance fueled her flames. “You want me to believe that you’re so high and mighty, like you’re rescuing some damsel in distress.” Robert stopped inches from his car door. He bit down on his bottom lip. Rena could see his chest, deflate like he’d taken a huge sigh.
“I’ve never come at you like that, Rena. I’ve been real since the first time we met.”
“Real? Did you say real? Oh, I don’t think so. You’ve been fake. That’s what you’ve been. There is no way a man is told by his woman’s ex-lover that they’ve had a longtime sexual affair, and he just waves it off like it’s nothing. That’s exactly what you want me to believe. And,” Rena said with added force, “not to mention that the ex-lover happened to be another woman. Come on, Robert. Be for real. You really want me to think you can overlook something like that? I don’t think so. But let
’s not stop there, Mr. High-and-Mighty,” she mocked.
She moved so close to him he probably could feel tiny splatters of her spit as she spoke angrily to him. “I have herpes—that, by the way, is contagious. Oh, but you know that already. I may not be able to have children. Suppose I come back home one day from having an HIV test and tell you that it came back positive? You want me to wave that off and pretend like I’m totally healthy? You want me to run off and marry you, and we’re supposed to live happily ever after like some fairy tale? Well, I don’t think it’s that cut and dried, Robert Becton. I will not wake up one day and have you blame me for giving you herpes, or anything worse, for that matter. I won’t be the one responsible for making life for you and your kids miserable. So don’t you dare—” She pointed a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare come off like you’re some saint and that you can see past all my faults. You’re not God, Robert.”
“Don’t you know I know that,” he screamed back and pointed his long, thick finger toward her. “I never have said I was God. I’ve never tried to portray this . . . this perfect man you’re describing. All of this time, and you don’t know a thing about me. I’m not your ex-husband. I’m not the one who told you to get out. I’m not the one who has the problem with forgiveness. He is. Stop looking at me and seeing him.”
“How dare you accuse me of looking at you and seeing him? I’ve never done any such thing. Yes, I’m having problems letting go of my past. I can’t help that right now. Only God can deliver me from the battle I’m fighting against myself. As for you, you are just so darn self-righteous.”
“Self-righteous? Isn’t that something? Here I am, standing before you, pleading with you to be my wife. All I’m guilty of is falling in love with a woman who happens not to be perfect and who happens to have made her share of mistakes just like me and the rest of the people in this world. But here I am, getting bashed because I choose not to dwell on those mistakes, and instead would rather spend my time loving you, not making you feel bad about something that’s done and over with. I’m through.” Robert opened the car door and got inside. He started the engine and left Rena standing in her driveway with a look of anguish and shame on her face.
Rena watched him speed off before she dashed back inside the house. She slammed the door behind her, leaned against it, and cried. Robert was right. She avoided the subject of marriage like the bubonic plague. There was far too much fear inside her—fear of what marriage to Robert would mean. There was no way she was supposed to believe that Robert could accept her unconditionally. No way at all.
Chapter 21
You can’t undo anything you’ve already done, but
you can face up to it. You can tell the truth. You can
seek forgiveness. And then let God do the rest.
— Unknown
Detria left Brooke’s house after she awoke from a two-hour nap. Brooke had been right about one thing: she was exhausted. For her to fall asleep like that at someone else’s house, even if it was her sister, was unlike her. She drove in the direction of home. It was time for her to make a decision about her life. The only problem was, she didn’t know what that decision was going to be.
Detria neared the expressway. Her car operating like it had a mind of its own, she found herself taking the 240 North exit toward downtown. She had to go see Pastor. Stiles had told her that his health was improving considerably. If he couldn’t talk, he could listen to what she had to say.
Detria pulled into the circular driveway and drove around the lot until she came upon an empty parking space. Before she got out of her car, she prayed for God to direct her words and for Pastor to be receptive toward her.
She sucked in a deep breath, let it go, and then proceeded into the building. Detria had drilled herself on what she was going to say to Pastor Graham.
Detria approached the information desk and asked the receptionist where she could locate Chauncey Graham. After receiving the room and floor numbers, she continued toward the elevators and pushed the button.
“Lord, help me get through this,” Detria whispered as she studied herself in the mirror-like reflection inside the elevator.
Detria approached Pastor’s room. The door was open, so she cautiously walked inside the semiprivate room. She nodded her head at the man in the first bed. Pastor looked up from the chair where he was seated, watching one of his favorite judge shows.
Detria thought she saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes as she spoke. “Hello, Pastor. How are you feeling today?”
Pastor did look frightened. He reached toward the side of the bed like he was trying to find the button to call for a nurse.
“Pastor, don’t. I’m not here to hurt you. I promise,” Detria said when she saw him fumbling for the button. “I need to talk to you. Please, Pastor.”
In a manner that could be described as conscientious and deliberate, he opened his mouth to reply. “He ... hel . . . lo,” he stammered until the word escaped his lips.
“My goodness, you’re talking, Pastor. Praise God.” Detria smiled and walked closer to him. She leaned over and gave him a light hug. “I know you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” she commented. Pastor looked at her but didn’t say a word. “I’ve been thinking about you. Stiles has kept me informed about your progress. You look well.” Detria continued to ramble, unsure how she would approach the subject with someone else in the room. She hadn’t planned on Pastor having a roommate. “I had some errands to run close by, so I thought I’d stop in to see how you were getting along,” she lied without reason.
Pastor remained quiet, but his eyes stayed on Detria. She began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. “Have you talked to your son today?”
Pastor shook his head.
“He hasn’t called?” Detria scanned the room but did not see a telephone. She remembered suddenly that Stiles had said that Pastor didn’t have a phone in his room. “Well, you know Stiles. He’ll be here sometime today, I’m sure,” she said. Her uneasiness mounted. For a few minutes she kept quiet and pretended like she was enjoying the judge show along with Pastor.
A commercial gave her an opportunity to speak again. “Pastor, how would you like to take a walk with me? Not far. Maybe to the recreational room I saw down the hall. Do you feel like walking? Getting a little exercise?”
“Umm.”
Detria thought he was about to tell her no, but contrary to her thought, Pastor slowly reached for the walker that was propped against the wall.
“Let me help you with that,” Detria offered. She grabbed the walker and released the holding mechanism until the walker opened up like an umbrella. She helped Pastor stand. “You’re doing great, Pastor. I am so proud of you.” Her voice was soft and smooth. She was still nervous about being at the hospital, but she did her best not to let it show. What if Stiles popped up? What would she say then? No need to worry about that. I’m here now. God is with me. I can do this.
With extra caution, Detria held on to Pastor until he placed both hands on his walker and began to take small steps.
It took them almost ten minutes to arrive at the vacant recreational room. Detria saw several round tables and chairs. She chose the table closest to the door to make it easier for Pastor and helped him sit in one of the chairs.
“I’ll let your walker stay next to you. No need to fold it up. I won’t keep you in here long, but I do want to talk to you, Pastor. Do you mind?”
“No,” he answered.
“I don’t know where to start. I thought I had what I would say all planned. I prayed on my way here because there has been so much turmoil in my life, Pastor.” She reached across the table where Pastor’s hands rested and laid her hands on top of his. “Pastor, I’m here to tell you how I’ve been feeling, to talk with you about why I did what I did. I know there is nothing that can make you understand why I treated you the way I did, but I have to try to explain my actions, anyway.”
Pastor struggled to speak. He finally got the words out. “T
hadz fine.”
“Pastor, I’ve been angry a long time. I’ve been angry at you.” Detria thought Pastor’s eyebrows furrowed, but she couldn’t be sure. She continued to talk. There was one thing she was glad about: Pastor, whether he could speak plainly or not, had full understanding of what she was saying. His brain and memory had not been affected from what Stiles told her the doctors said. That was a miracle and a blessing in and of itself. “I guess you’re asking yourself, ‘Why would she be angry with me?’ You should be the one angry at me. But that’s why I’m here, Pastor. You see, I believed that you were the cause of me losing my baby. The day I found you in the bathroom and tried to pick you up, I thought I did damage to my child.” Detria fought back tears, but she suspected her eyes were probably shining, anyway.
This time, Detria did see Pastor’s eyebrows furrow. He shook his head. “No. No,” he mumbled.
“Maybe you’re saying no because you think I’m crazy for believing you were to blame. Or maybe you’re saying no because you don’t know what else to say. Whatever the reason, I’m just here to tell you how I felt. And to be honest, I still feel some anger toward you at times, but I’ve been praying, Pastor. I’ve been praying so hard,” she said. “But after I lost the baby, every day I saw you, every day I spent taking care of you meant another day I was reminded of my loss.”
Detria patted her chest. “You deprived your son of his first child. I hated you, Pastor.” Detria waved her hands and shook her head. “Now, you might be thinking that I was wrong, and maybe I was, but again I’m just speaking the truth. That anger and rage led to my abusing you. I’ve never done anything like that to anyone, Pastor. You must believe me. The first time I struck you, I thought I was going to lose my mind. I hated myself for what I had done. But then, thoughts of my baby kept flooding back over and over again, and every time I saw you, I hated you more. My rage mounted, and I wanted you to hurt like you had caused me to hurt.”
My Son's Next Wife Page 17
