“I guess tomorrow will be good. What time?” he asked.
“Around three?”
“Three it is.” His tone was nonchalant. “We’ll see you then. Anything else?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact there is.” Rena began to speak extremely fast. “I love you, Robert Becton. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I understand if you don’t want to marry me anymore, but I can’t keep fooling myself. I can’t—”
“Whoa, hold up. Slow your roll. Are you serious?” Robert interrupted. “Don’t play with my heart, Rena.”
Rena heard the children playing in the background. “I wouldn’t dare. I’ve done that far too long.”
“Give me an hour. The kids and I will be over there. I suddenly feel like grilling,” he said and started laughing over the phone, as did Rena.
“But I thought you said—” Rena halted. “Never mind. I’ll see you when you get here.” Rena hung up the phone. She couldn’t help herself and burst out in uncontrollable laughter. “Ahhh,” she screamed. “Thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Chapter 25
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who
gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will
be given to him.
—James 1:5, NKJV
Stiles looked at the clock on the car’s instrument panel. Nine forty-five. He disregarded the time of night. Pastor was more than likely already in bed, reading his Bible, something he did almost every night around this time. Stiles had already surmised that this was one of those situations that couldn’t wait until morning. He had the security code and a spare set of keys to Pastor’s residence. He was set on talking to his daddy tonight.
Along the way, Stiles chastised himself for not seeing the truth of what had happened to his father. The one time his spirit tried to instruct him, Stiles had ignored it. He didn’t understand what was going on in his life. Why did he keep making mistakes when it came to women? He was a man in his early thirties, articulate, God-fearing, yet it seemed he didn’t have an ounce of wisdom. At least, that’s how he felt. He’d been blind to Rena’s indiscretions, and now he was experiencing the same betrayal from Detria.
He pulled into the gated community, used his security pass card, and drove to Pastor’s apartment.
Stiles knocked on the door and rang the doorbell more than twice. He waited anxiously for Pastor to answer. After several minutes, Stiles decided to use his door key. Just as he was about to put it inside the lock, Pastor opened the door.
“Stiles.” Pastor looked concerned and rightfully so. “What’s going on, son? Is everything all right? Is it Francesca?”
“Francesca is fine. Everyone is fine. I know it’s late, Pastor, but this couldn’t wait until morning. I believe you know the real reason I’m here, whether you want to admit it or not.” Stiles did his trademark head rub and then sat down on the living room sofa.
Pastor moved toward his chair and sat across from his son. “Talk to me. Is this about your sister accepting Tim’s proposal to get married? Son, God can change the hardest of hearts, you know. His ways are not our ways and His—”
“Hold on, Pastor. Before you go any further,” Stiles interjected, “this isn’t about Francesca and Brother Tim. Francesca did call and tell me about her engagement, and I’m really happy for her. I have no problem with that. I’m grateful for the way God is moving in her life. She has a major testimony about the majesty of God. But this isn’t about Francesca or Tim. This is about my wife and what she did.” Stiles laid his hand against his chest. “And I need you to tell me the truth,” Stiles insisted.
“What do you want to know?” asked Pastor.
“Did Detria physically abuse you?”
Pastor looked away and then looked back at Stiles. Pastor’s words became shuffled more than likely because he was nervous about how to handle Stiles’s inquiry.
“Pastor, please, no antics tonight. I just need you to tell me if my wife is the one responsible for beating you.”
“Yes, but listen to me, son. As far as I’m concerned, what Detria did is in the past. It’s over. I’m trying to move on with my life, and you need to do the same thing.”
Stiles reared his head back, and a guttural sound came up and out of his throat and filled the small living room. “Move on? Oh, God, no,” he screamed. “How can I move on? Who is the woman I married? How could she be so evil, so violent, and I not see it? Don’t get me wrong. We’ve had some tough battles, she and I. And now that I look back on our marriage, I do recall a time or two when I questioned her temper, but for her to do something like this . . .” Stiles stood up and rubbed his hand over his head. “Pastor, what’s wrong with me? Where is my spiritual discernment? I’ve gone all of this time believing that the agency staff was responsible for harming you, and all the time it was my wife? My God, how much more can I take?”
“Stiles, this is not your fault. As for Detria, I’ve talked to her, and she’s settled her account with me. But more importantly she said she’s gone before God and asked His forgiveness. I told her that if you came to me with this, I would tell you to talk to her about it because it’s part of my past.”
“So, you and Detria have already discussed this? When? Did she fix you a nice meal and get you in a good frame of mind before she confronted you, like she did me?”
“No, quit it, Stiles.” Pastor’s weak voice rose at least an octave. “Detria has been tormented by what happened more than you or I will probably ever understand. What she did was wrong, but I’m glad it was me she took it out on.”
“What are you talking about? How can you sit there and act like she’s the one who got the short end of the stick? How can you talk like she’s the victim? My wife physically and emotionally abused you, Pastor. What part of that are you missing? The woman is somebody I don’t even know. Thank God Audrey isn’t here to witness this. What Detria did to you is despicable, cruel, and insensitive. There is no way a woman of God, a true woman of God, could do what she did and then act like nothing has happened. That’s the ultimate deceit.” Stiles’s hands flew in all directions. “Then she has the audacity to tell me how sorry she is with all of that game talking. I thought I had the woman God wanted for me. I thought she was the one, Pastor.” Stiles hung his head and cried.
Pastor leaned on his walker until he was able to stand. He balanced himself, and then he walked over to where Stiles was and sat down next to his son.
“Stiles, the wounds that were inflicted upon me are healed. They were temporary. I couldn’t speak at the time it happened. I was helpless, so to speak. But God understood. What you see as being evil and wrong is not what I experienced. Detria was hurting. She lost her child, son. A child she wanted to give you so badly. She looked at me and saw me as the enemy. She saw me as the man who stole life away from her. The wounds inflicted upon Detria are still open and fresh. I understand why she did what she did. It may not make sense to you, but you know the Word, son. Lean not to your own understanding. Trust God fully, and He shall direct your path. The physical pain I endured was nothing compared to the emotional abuse Detria has gone through these past few months.”
Stiles looked and listened. He couldn’t comprehend how Pastor could be so compassionate toward someone who had purposely harmed him. The love Pastor had for his daughter-in-law and his forgiveness of her hurtful act were present in every word he spoke. Stiles felt calmness entering into his spirit. The anger he felt started to disappear.
“You and your wife lost your baby. You moved past the loss. You worked through your grief. Your wife carried the loss with her every day. Think about it. There were hormonal changes in her, mental changes, physical changes—all of that combined with the fact that she miscarried, and you have a ticking time bomb. I know she shouldn’t have done what she did to me, but I shouldn’t have done what I did to her.”
Stiles frowned. “What did you do to her?”
“I moved in with the two of you.
You were newlyweds trying to start a new life together. I never should have agreed to move in with you all. When I had the stroke, you weren’t there. It was Detria who strained to pick me up. How do you think she felt when she turns around shortly after and miscarries?” Pastor’s voice grew stronger with each word he spoke. “For a while, Detria wasn’t herself. She’s just beginning to get over the loss of her child. She came to me and poured her heart out, Stiles. She asked me to forgive her. Who am I not to forgive when God forgives us? Who are you not to love and forgive your wife? She is not Rena, son. You are not reliving your past. Now, I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you something I heard someone say years ago, and I’ve never forgotten it. ‘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.’ That’s what Detria has done.
“She came to me with a spirit of sorrow, needing my forgiveness. She can’t change what happened. Neither can I, and neither can you. But we can learn from what happened. We can move on, and we can learn to forgive. I know there are times when you’ve thought that maybe you should have given Rena a second chance. But you didn’t. You did what you believed was right at the time. God gave you an opportunity to love again when Detria came into your life. All I want to say to you is, pray. Pray and ask God for His guidance and for His will. Don’t look at this through physical eyes, son.” Pastor moved his hand to Stiles’s shoulder.
Stiles grabbed hold of his father and cried into his bosom. He felt like a lost little boy, unsure of which direction to go, which path to take. When he raised his head moments later, Stiles looked at Pastor. “I need some time to think and pray. You mind if I camp out on your sofa?” Stiles asked.
“Yes, quite frankly, I do mind. You have a home to go to. I suggest that’s where you return. If you don’t want to sleep in the same room with your wife, that’s your decision, but I will not be an enabler for you, son. You have plenty of room at your own place. Go home and face your problems like a man.”
Stiles was shocked at his father’s answer. “I can’t believe you’re telling me to get out.”
“Believe it,” Pastor said and smiled.
Stiles stood and then helped Pastor get back on his feet. “Let me walk you to your bedroom, and I’ll lock up.”
“Sounds like a good idea, son.”
Before he left his father’s home, Stiles made sure Pastor was comfortable and back in his bed. He thanked Pastor for his words of wisdom, and then he left.
Stiles replayed the words Pastor had fed him. “God, I need your help,” Stiles prayed out loud. “This time I don’t want to act on my own accord, Father. I want to do your will. I want to do what’s right for my wife and for my marriage. I don’t want to run away this time, like I did when I was married to Rena. But I need you to help me through this, Father. I’m asking you to help my wife. I was blind to her hurt.”
Stiles continued the drive home. His cell phone rang. He touched the button on the steering wheel to answer the call.
“Hello,” he said. “Hello,” he said again. He looked at the instrument panel to see the caller’s number. Before he could digest whose number it was, Stiles heard the sweet voice on the other end.
“Stiles? Did I catch you at a bad time?” Rena asked.
Stiles sort of shook his head in disbelief. “Rena? Is this you?” he asked. “How did you get my number?”
“Of course it’s me, silly. And you were the one who gave me your number, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry ’bout that. I’ve got a lot on my mind this evening.”
“You concerned about Francesca?” Rena asked.
“Oh, so you heard, huh?”
“What? About her and Brother Tim?” Rena responded.
“Yeah,” replied Stiles.
“She called me and told me the great news. Isn’t it great, Stiles? Francesca is about to embark on a new life. I’m so happy for her.”
“I am too,” Stiles said as he tried to push away thoughts about his own sinking marriage.
“Look, I know it’s late there, and to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to reach you. I thought I was going to get your voice mail. I hope I’m not disturbing you and Detria. That was not my intent,” Rena apologized.
“No, I’m on my way home. I just left Pastor’s apartment.”
“Apartment? Pastor has an apartment? I thought he was living with you and Detria.”
“He was, but he decided it was best that he had his own place. He’s still renting out Emerald Estates, but he lives at Kirby Pines Community.” Stiles then flipped the subject. “So, what about you and your fellow? He still can’t convince you to marry him, huh?” Stiles laughed and then his voice turned serious. “Maybe it’s divine intervention of some sort. I know my life has certainly changed in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Stiles, what are you talking about? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just babbling. Anyway, what’s up? To what do I owe the honor of a call from my ex-wife?”
“I thought I’d let you know that I’m getting married,” Rena said.
“What?”
“The last time we talked, I remember telling you that you would know when or if I decided to marry Robert. So, for the record, I want to let you know that Robert asked me to marry him and I accepted.”
Stiles paused before saying, “Good . . . good for you. I’m glad to hear that. I hope you two have a happy life.”
“Like you and your darling wife?” Rena commented.
Stiles stiffened in his seat. Flashes of his troubled marriage made him shake his head to clear his thinking. A car horn honked and Stiles jumped.
“Sounds like you need to get off those Memphis streets.” Rena laughed into the phone.
“You’re probably right. I’m almost home now.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rena commented.
“Oh, about me and Detria? I hope you and Rob will be just as happy as me and Detria.” Stiles would never give Rena the benefit of knowing that he was unsure about his future with his wife. “Seriously, Rena, you’re a great person. Things didn’t work out for us, but that’s the way it is sometimes. I’m glad that God brought someone into your life. And I’m not just talking. I’m being for real.”
Rena cleared her throat. “Thanks.” She paused for a moment. “Anyway, it was good talking to you. I only wanted to call and mess with you.”
“Hey, before you go, I do have something to say,” Stiles added.
“Go for it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Stiles, what’s going on with you tonight? What are you talking about?” Rena sounded concerned.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but I truly am. For our marriage failing, for not having a forgiving heart when things first went awry, for everything I did that hurt you, Rena, I’m sorry. You were my wife, and I should have given our marriage a chance to work, but I didn’t. I ask that you forgive me for giving up on us.”
“Wow,” Rena replied. “I don’t know what to say. That’s the last thing I expected to hear from you.”
“I know. But I mean it. And one more thing.”
“What’s that?” Rena asked. She sniffled over the phone like she may have been crying.
“I want to ask you if you will forgive me for the way I treated you.”
Rena replied in a choked voice. “If you can forgive me, then my answer is yes.”
“Then it’s done. Now maybe God can do what He wants to do in both of our lives and our futures. I wish you and Robert nothing but the best, Rena. Take care of yourself, you hear?”
“Yes, I will. You too. Bye, Stiles.”
Stiles pushed the END button on the steering wheel. “Father God, you made your will for my life clear right away. I didn’t see that coming,” he told the Lord as he made the left turn onto his street. “That definitely was a sign that I need to make things
right with my wife. Help me to go inside this house and tell her that I forgive her. If Pastor can understand, and he was the victim, surely I can have a heart of forgiveness.”
Stiles pushed the garage remote and pulled inside. For a few seconds, he remained in his car and whispered a final prayer to God for direction. He then went into the house to face his wife.
“Detria,” he called out to her, but there was no answer. “Detria,” he called again. Still no answer. He walked upstairs and found her curled in a ball like a kitten, asleep in her chair. He quietly walked over to her and leaned down to pick her up and carry her to their bed.
Detria woke up startled. She jumped in Stiles’s arms.
“It’s me. I’m home,” he whispered into her ear and lay her on the bed. He pulled back the covers on the opposite side. Detria moved over and pulled back the covers on the side of the bed where Stiles had laid her. She sat up in the bed and watched Stiles remove his clothes down to his boxers.
“Where have you been?” she asked him.
“I went to see Pastor.”
“Oh,” Detria remarked.
“Detria, we need to talk. Well, let me rephrase that. I need to talk. You’ve done all the talking so far, so I guess it’s my turn.”
Detria remained quiet. She pulled her knees up to her chest and waited to hear what Stiles had to say.
“Detria.” Stiles positioned his shirtless body on the bed so that he was face-to-face with her. He propped his legs underneath him Indian style. “What you told me tonight struck me right here.” Stiles laid the palm of his hand over his heart. “I can’t begin to tell you my first thought, my first reaction. It was like being swished away to another time. What you laid on me was so heavy.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Stiles. But I didn’t want to deceive you, either. The only right thing to do was to tell you. I know I stand a chance, a huge chance,” Detria said, stretching her words, “of losing you, of destroying our marriage.”
“You say you didn’t want to deceive me, yet you didn’t come to me and let me know what you were feeling. It’s like you didn’t trust me, Detria. I experienced a loss, too, and I hurt, too. We are husband and wife. You should have talked to me before things got out of hand like they did.”
My Son's Next Wife Page 21
