by Beth Rinyu
“Jack. Stop. You don’t owe me an explanation for anything. We’re not married anymore, and whatever it is we’ve been doing, it needs to stop. It was stupid and irresponsible on both our parts.”
“What?” I sensed shock and dismay in his voice. “Where is all this coming from? I thought we were in a good place finally.”
“We were in a comfortable place, not necessarily a good one.”
“Aw, man,” he groaned. “Don’t do this again.”
Was he for real in actually telling me not to do this again? “I’m not the one doing it again, Jack.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have to go. Thanks for calling and—”
“Can I just say one thing before you hang up?” he interrupted.
“What?” I whispered, my emotions bubbling over inside of me, hoping I could keep them intact for the rest of the call.
“I love you, Stephanie. I never stopped loving you and these past few months—”
I pulled the phone away, partly because my heart couldn’t take any more of what he had to say, the other part so he wouldn’t hear the sob that had just escaped me. How could he be in love with me while he was out and about with other women? I refused to challenge him and bring that into play. That was an ugly, hurtful road I’d already been down years ago, and I didn’t intend to travel it again.
I swallowed the baseball-sized lump in my throat and put the phone back to my ear. “Jack, I think you’re confusing the two. You’re in love with what we once had, not me. Now, I really have to get going. Stay safe.” I ended the call before he could get anything else in that may break my heart a little more or tempt me into spewing off accusations I’d regret. I was proud of myself for handling it like the strong woman life had molded me into. As I replayed the call in my mind, trying to be pleased with my mature behavior, I knew I was only fooling myself. Inside the grown-up Stephanie was still a teenage girl who had just said goodbye to her one and only love.
Chapter 34
“WHAT A DAY!” I said to Francesca as we finally settled in front of the television after a day of shopping, sightseeing, and some wine tasting. We ended the day having dinner at Jennifer’s where I got to meet her partner, Dana, and their son, Kevin. Everything about where Francesca lived was beyond gorgeous, making me wonder why I had never visited California before. Francesca’s meticulously maintained ranch-style home was located about thirty miles north of San Francisco and about sixty miles south of wine country. We managed to have covered it all in just one day.
“It really was so much fun!” Francesca remarked. “I think being that it was your first time here made it even more exciting for me.” In the midst of all the excitement of the day, I had forgotten what tomorrow would bring. Now that we were finally settling down, and I had time to collect my thoughts, I was nervous for Francesca and the bold move she was going to make. “So, Jennifer and Dana had this crazy idea,” Francesca blurted out.
“What’s that?”
“Dana works with this really nice guy who’s getting transferred to the New York office in a few months. He’s divorced, around your age, a lawyer, and very nice looking.”
“Okay…” I still wasn’t following.
“They thought maybe while you were out here, you’d want to go out for a drink with him. If you guys hit it off, he’d be living not too far from you once he moves, and if you don’t, then no harm done.” She shrugged.
“A lawyer?” I crinkled my nose. “I think I’m done with any man whose profession has anything to do with the law.”
“He’s very nice.” Francesca pleaded her case.
“You’ve met him?”
“I have.” She nodded and paused. “In fact, he’s the lawyer we’ll be meeting with tomorrow. The one who has the media contact.”
“Oh, great. So I guess I’ll get to test the water before I agree to anything.”
“Well…” Francesca started. “Dana…and I.” She guiltily placed her hand on her chest. “Kind of told him about you.”
“Oh, boy.” Now my nerves were churning for myself as well.
“I’m sorry. I just thought…what could it hurt?”
“Yeah. What could it hurt?” I smiled and sighed, playing along.
_______________
Francesca and I sat in the office of Ken Schroder, the lawyer Dana did paralegal work for—and the lawyer who was at the center of Dana and Francesca’s matchmaking quest. I had to give them credit, he was definitely a nice-looking guy. Tall, dark hair with some gray mixed in, hazelnut eyes, and donning a suit that looked like it was designed just for him. I tried to maintain a professional stance as I sat with Francesca while he advised her on what questions to answer and which ones to avoid. I could sense she was getting nervous as the interview drew closer and she tried to remember what to say and what not to say.
“Okay, I think I got this,” she announced, taking a deep, cleansing breath.
“You sure you’re ready?” Ken asked.
Francesca nodded.
“Okay. Let me see if they’re good to go.” Ken got up from his desk and exited the office. I scanned photographs on the credenza behind his desk, trying to get a glimpse into his world, but the only thing I could garner from them was he liked to travel to tropical places, and he had a black lab. My attention focused back to what would be taking place in the next few moments in the conference room of the law firm. I had to admit, even I felt my stomach churning upon seeing the camera people setting up when we had walked past earlier. I couldn’t imagine how Francesca was feeling.
“Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out. We can walk out of here if you don’t feel comfortable with this.” I wanted her to know I would respect whatever choice she decided to make, and there was no pressure for her to move forward.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve come this far. I let that bastard get away with it for too many years. I’m doing this for me. I’m doing it for Tommy. I’m doing it for the poor girl who took her own life because of his actions—and most of all, I’m doing it for my daughters and my granddaughter. I want to empower each of you to be able to do the same thing if something like this were to happen, not bury your head in the sand like I did for so long.”
I reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You were right. He is rather nice looking.” I grinned. She let out a loud chuckle, and I was happy to be able to momentarily take her mind off what was about to come. “I’ll be standing right behind the cameraman and if it gets to be too much, give me a sign, and I’ll have them stop it right away.”
She nodded, seeming deep in thought. “How about if I wiggle my nose?”
“Wiggle your nose? Is that even possible?” I found myself making some ridiculous contorted facial expression trying to find out.
“Guess you didn’t inherit the gene.” Francesca smiled. She closed her mouth, stared straight ahead, then actually wiggled her nose.
“Wow! That takes some talent.” We both busted out with laughter. The lighthearted moment was short-lived when Ken appeared, resting his head on the doorframe of his office.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Sure, why not.” Francesca raised an eyebrow and we both stood up, following behind Ken like two scared puppy dogs. When we entered the room, Francesca was immediately ushered off by a woman who was running around with a clipboard and barking out orders. She directed her to a seat and another woman rushed over with what appeared to be makeup. She was actually powdering her nose.
“I think we’re safe sitting here.” Ken pointed to a set of chairs away from the action. I took a seat, and he sat down next to me.
“So how long is this interview going to last?” I asked.
“Well, they want to run a segment of it on their nightly news channel tonight, then I think the full interview will be available online.”
“So the shitstorm starts tonight?”
“Hey…have a little confidence.” He nudged my a
rm and grinned. I smiled back, and he cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’d want to go out for a drink later to celebrate.”
“To celebrate? You have a lot of confidence, don’t you?” I laughed.
“Okay, so I don’t come across as your typical arrogant lawyer…which I am not, by the way. Let’s say to hopefully celebrate, but possibly to commiserate.”
I could tell already he was the nice guy Francesca made him out to be. He had the personality of someone I could see myself laughing with, and after this interview, I may be needing just that.
“All right.” I shrugged.
“Great.” He smiled just as the room began to quiet down.
I sat up straight and focused on Francesca and the woman sitting across from her as the bright lighting from the camera shone on the two of them.
“Okay, we’re ready in three, two, one…” one of the men behind the camera shouted.
“I’m Robin Michaels, and I’m here today with Francesca Armenti, who has something very personal she’d like to share with our viewers. Francesca, do you care to tell us what that is?”
I wrung my hands together, holding my breath until Francesca began to speak.
“Yes, I do. First I want to thank your station for allowing me to use this platform for my voice to be heard. It was a voice I kept quiet for too long, and maybe in doing so, I caused some pain to others.” She swallowed hard and continued. “Forty-eight years ago, I was a seventeen-year-old girl who was in a relationship with Thomas Cavlan. We had big dreams as young people in love often do, but then he got sent off to Vietnam. Shortly after he left, I discovered I was pregnant. It was a secret I kept to myself, knowing it wouldn’t bode well with my strict Catholic upbringing. Instead, I had grandiose dreams that Tommy would return, we’d get married, raise our child together, and live happily ever after.”
“But things didn’t seem to work out that way, did they?” the reporter asked compassionately.
“No, they didn’t.” Francesca paused a moment, then continued. “A few months after Tommy left, his brother Dominick raped me.” She pulled a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed her eyes. “I know what everyone is probably thinking. Why now? Why after all these years? I’ll give all of you the answer to that question.” She looked directly into the camera. “Because Dominick Cavlan’s reckless behavior has taken so much from so many others. Yet he continues to move forward in life like it’s nothing while those he’s affected are the ones who are left to bear the burden of the outcome of his actions. Some of them carrying it around for most of their life with others ending their life because they can’t bear the guilt or shame of it. All while he goes on television and does what he’s always done best…lies. I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to do this just a few months ago, but then someone very special entered my life. Someone I was forced to give up over forty-eight years ago. The child I had with Tommy Cavlan. The child Tommy and I could’ve raised together if it hadn’t been for his brother’s lies.”
“Is it true that you have a letter from Thomas Cavlan that he had written right before he decided to take his own life, asking you to move forward and speak out against his brother for what he’s done?” the reporter asked.
“I do.” Francesca nodded.
“Wow. That’s a real bombshell, considering how close the two brothers were.”
“Tommy had contacted me some months ago when the rape allegations from Karlyn Wells came out. I had written to him when he was in Vietnam, telling him what his brother had done to me, but his brother put a spin on it and said it was me who came on to him.”
“That wasn’t true?”
“No. He raped me, and he was trying to cover his tracks with a lie. The same way he had with Karlyn Wells and possibly others who haven’t come forward.”
“So, I know this next question may be hard for you to answer, but did Mr. Cavlan give you any indication as to why he planned on taking his life in that letter?”
“He did.” Francesca took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “He was aware I was pregnant back then. I had written him and told him. He just wasn’t aware he was the father. He had assumed his brother was.”
“So let me get this straight. Dominick Cavlan raped you while you were pregnant with his brother’s child.”
Francesca nodded and reached for another tissue, her voice wavering as she began to speak. “I had gotten pregnant the night before Tommy got shipped out. I know this because it was my one and only sexual experience at the time. I was just about into my fourth month of pregnancy. When he…” She dabbed her face with the tissue. “When he raped me,” she managed to get out.
“Did he know you were pregnant?”
“Yes. I told him, thinking that would prevent it from happening. I wasn’t showing at all, so he thought I was lying and that seemed to make him even angrier.”
“Angrier in what way?” the reporter asked.
“Is she really going to make her relive this nightmare?” I leaned over and whispered to Ken.
“Trust me, it’s only making her look more credible,” Ken whispered back. It irked me that Francesca was the one who had to make herself seem credible when she was the one who was telling the truth.
“He became violent,” Francesca spoke. “He smacked me across the face and called me horrible names. Accused me of making up a lie to try and trap his brother into marriage.” Francesca averted her gaze to me. I flashed her a caring smile, hoping it would be enough to help her carry on with the horrific account of what had happened to her.
“You never reported it to the police back then?”
“No,” Francesca whispered. “My parents wouldn’t allow me to. They said it would just draw attention to the family and the sin I committed. They sent me across the country to Massachusetts to go live with my aunt until I had the baby.”
“You had the baby and put her up for adoption.”
“I did.” Tears were now streaming down Francesca’s face faster than she could wipe them away. “It was the hardest thing I ever did, but I knew I was in no position to raise a child.”
“Wow. That’s heartbreaking. I can’t even imagine how scared you must’ve been,” the reporter added. Francesca nodded and dabbed her face with a tissue. “So, you didn’t have any more contact with Senator Cavlan or his brother after that?”
“No. I moved away, started my own business, and met a great guy who I ended up marrying. It wasn’t until a few months ago that Tommy had gotten in contact with me, asking to meet up.”
“And that’s when you told him about the child you gave up?”
“Yes.”
“And how did he react to that?”
“He was shocked, saddened…angry.”
“Excuse me, Ms. McGuire.” One of the film crew snuck up behind me, breaking my attention from the interview.
“Yes?”
“Would you have any objections to going on screen if Robin decides to lean that way in the interview?”
“Umm…I really wasn’t planning on it.” I looked at Ken to back me up.
“It’s totally up to you, but if the viewers actually see you…the child she gave up because of Senator Cavlan’s actions, it will resonate with them more,” Ken explained.
I had two seconds to make a decision that would normally take me two days. I looked at Francesca, pouring out her heart and soul into this interview, allowing the world into her ghastly experience. The least I could do was show my face on camera if needed. “Fine,” I agreed. Within a matter of seconds I was standing up, feeling as if I was getting felt up by two of the film crew members wiring me up with a mic. It suddenly dawned on me how I was dressed—casually in jeans and a turtleneck. I hadn’t planned on showing my face on national television when I had chosen my attire that morning. “I’m not exactly dressed for this,” I murmured to Ken.
“You’ll be okay.” Ken reassured me as my stomach churned with apprehension.
“Well, I understand through all
of the heartache from this story, something good did come out of it all.” My attention turned back to the reporter and the interview.
“It did.” Francesca smiled for the first time since sitting down. “Tommy was able to find my daughter…our daughter.”
“And not only have the two of you been in contact with each other, I understand she’s here today, supporting you through this.”
“She is.” Francesca nodded.
“Oh God,” I whispered as my body heated up.
“It’ll be fine.” Ken was being my sideline cheerleader once again.
“Famous last words,” I sneered. Ken let out a lighthearted chuckle, seeming to be amused by my turmoil.
“Can you tell us a little bit about her?” the reporter asked.
“Well, she’s a beautiful, intelligent woman. She’s caring and loving, everything I could’ve hoped for.”
“And what’s her name?”
“Well, for the past forty-plus years and while I was pregnant, her name was Annie, but as I came to find out not too long ago, she’s Stephanie.”
“Well, I think we need to meet Stephanie,” the reporter said.
Francesca’s eyes widened, seeming just as shocked as I was moments ago over the prospect of being brought on camera. The man who had helped with my microphone directed me where to go. Each step I took felt like a mile before I was standing front and center of the action.
“Stephanie, it’s so nice to meet you,” the reporter greeted. “Please have a seat.” I looked behind me to find an empty chair, uncertain of when or how it even got there. I sat down next to Francesca and she grabbed my hand. “So, tell us how you were feeling when you found out about this whole other family you had.”
“I had just learned I was adopted only a week or so before Francesca contacted me, so I think I was still a little in shock over the whole idea in general.”
“I guess you guys are making up for lost time as mother and daughter.”
“Yes, we’re getting to know each other.” I flashed a nervous smile.
“You were raised on the total opposite side of the country from where your mother lived.”
