Pastor turned to the nurse again. “Will you get her cleaned up and ready for us to take her to the hospital?”
“Yes, sir,” the nurse quickly remarked and began gathering some clean clothes for Audrey to put on.
“Honey, I don’t want to hear another word out of you. Stiles and I are going to step out of the room while Nurse Pettigrew gets you cleaned and dressed. Then when she finishes, we are going to take you to the hospital. Son, am I right?” he looked at Stiles, not for an answer, but for confirmation that Stiles understood Pastor’s orders.
“Yes, sir,” Stiles replied.
Audrey’s coughing spell simmered down, but she had broken out in a heavy sweat. She could hardly speak, so she certainly couldn’t fight against what her husband ordered. She exhaled after another cough before she resigned herself to doing what Pastor said.
On the other side of Audrey’s bedroom, the two men walked down the hallway and into the study. “You put on quite a show of authority in there,” remarked Stiles and patted his father on the back.
“I can count the times on one hand that I’ve had to use that tone with her during our marriage. Other than that, I usually don’t balk against your mother. I’m a peacemaker. I don’t like arguing. I don’t like confrontation, and I sure don’t like dissension in a marriage or any type of relationship if I can help it. What you heard back there was a decision that was best for your mother. It hurts me to see her going through this. But it would hurt me even more if I sat back and let her dictate about her health when it could be a matter of life or death. That cough is the worst I’ve heard since she started doing it a couple of days ago. She has bedsores forming on her buttocks and legs. She can’t feel them, nor see them, so she thinks that she’s fine. She’s becoming weaker, and despite the insulin injections, her sugar level teeters on the high end. Enough is enough.” Pastor paced back and forth across the carpeted floor in the study. His hands were tucked behind his back, and there was an edge in his voice that Stiles had never heard before either.
When Nurse Pettigrew knocked on the door to the study and said she had finished grooming Mrs. Graham, even though she had continued to fuss, Stiles and Pastor went back to her bedroom.
“Honey,” Pastor said in a voice that forbade any questions or discussions. “Do you want me to call for an ambulance to transport you, or do you prefer Stiles to drive us to the hospital?” He looked at her sternly and waited on her answer.
Stiles couldn’t believe what he heard. His mother’s voice wasn’t high pitched and forceful like it was when they left the room before. Audrey spoke in a calm, almost childlike tone. “I’d like an ambulance to take me, but I want you to ride in the back with me,” she said.
“That’s my girl,” Pastor remarked and kissed her on the lips. Everyone in the room released a welcoming sigh of relief. The nurse called 911 and Stiles went to the front of the house to wait on the ambulance. The nurse rode with Stiles in his vehicle, while Pastor and Audrey rode in the ambulance. They sped to Methodist University Healthcare in midtown. The admissions department of the hospital had performed it’s job well. They already had a room ready and waiting for Audrey’s arrival.
“Baby, I’ll be on up to your room as soon as I complete the rest of this intake paperwork,” Pastor said in a consoling voice.
Audrey nodded her head.
“Pastor, I’ll stay down here with you, and we’ll go to Mother’s room together,” Stiles stated.
“Son, you don’t have to wait for me. I can make it by myself.”
“Stiles, don’t listen to Pastor. You stay down here with him,” Audrey instructed as a patient orderly began wheeling her away. “Wait just a minute.” Audrey crooked her neck upward until her eyes landed on the young face of the orderly. “Don’t you hear me talking? Where are your manners?” she scolded the young man.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said. He stopped and gave Audrey the time to say what it was she wanted to say.
Audrey focused her attention back on Pastor. “If I have to come to this God awful place, then the least you’re going to do is let your son stay with you. You need a wheelchair yourself to get to my room. This hospital is too big for you to think you can just walk along one or two corridors and that’s it. You know for yourself this hospital is like a giant maze. So Stiles,” Audrey pointed her fingers flippantly at him, like she was shooing him away from her, “stay with Pastor.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered Stiles respectfully.
Pastor huffed but gave in without a fuss. Whatever pleased Audrey and would help her remain settled is what Pastor wanted to do.
After completing some additional intake paperwork, Stiles located a wheelchair and coerced Pastor into sitting in it. Audrey was right. It took two elevator changes and countless long, winding corridors before they made it to her hospital room. When they opened the door, Audrey had been placed in a hospital bed and was hooked to an IV. She held the television remote in her free hand and surfed the channels.
“We made it,” said Pastor. “They sure work fast around here. They already have you in the bed, and you got yourself an IV too?” remarked Pastor.
“You would have thought I was some famous celebrity or something, the way they moved to get me in here.” Audrey laughed slightly.
“You’re my celebrity,” Pastor flirted. Stiles stood back and watched his parents’ love interaction.
Stiles’s cell phone chimed a gospel tune. He reached on the side of his hip and pulled it out of its slender black case.
“Hello,” he said.
“Pastor Stiles, this is Detria. I was calling to check on Mr. and Mrs. Graham. I called the house and no one answered, so I took the liberty to stop by Emerald Estates. There was no one home. Is everything all right?”
“Let me call you right back.”
“Oh, okay,” Detria said.
Stiles went back inside of his mother’s hospital room. He called Detria on the patient room phone.
“Detria, I’m sorry about that. I’m at the hospital with mother. The doctor told us to bring her here. Her sugar level is high, she’s developed some serious bedsores, and she has a terrible cough. Thank you for being concerned about my parents.”
“It’s no big deal. I’ve known Pastor and Mrs. Graham since I was a teenager. Now that I’ve been interacting with them almost on a daily basis, I’ve grown rather close to them. You have great parents, Pastor Stiles.”
“Thank you, Sister Detria.”
“I’m not going to keep you on the phone. Please tell Mrs. Graham that I’m praying for her. And if there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Sure, God bless you.”
“Pastor Stiles,” Detria blurted. “I mean it; if Mrs. Graham needs or simply wants someone to sit with her to keep her company so you and Pastor Graham can go home, rest, and you can attend the services you need to attend, just call me. I usually make it home from work around three o’clock.”
“Again, God bless you and thank you so much, Sister Detria. I’ll pass that on to Mother. I know she’ll be glad to know that you’re praying for her.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, Pastor,” Detria said softly, and then she ended the call.
Stiles heard the dial tone, stood still for a moment, then smiled and refocused his attention on his mother.
“That was Sister Detria. You don’t have to tell me,” Audrey said with a wide smile on her face. “I’d know that angelic voice anywhere, and then when you left the room, I knew for sure it was her. Did you do what I told you to do?” asked Audrey in a raspy tone of voice.
“No, Mother. I didn’t. That’s the last thing on my mind right now. I’m concerned with making sure you get better.” Stiles looked in the direction of his father who was sitting in the hospital recliner and nodding. “Pastor?” His dad’s eyes sparked open when he heard Stiles call him. “Sister Detria asked me to tell you and Mother that she is praying for you. Mother, she said if you need her to come sit with y
ou, or do anything for you, then tell me and she will be here. I hope that makes you feel better.”
“It does. You see what I mean about her? She’s so thoughtful and caring. And she sure likes you,” insisted Audrey.
“Mother, please. What’s ticking in that head of yours now?” asked Stiles.
“She could easily have gotten my hospital room and phone number from you, but she didn’t. She told you,” Audrey pointed at Stiles, “to call her if I needed her. She didn’t say she would call me, now be honest. I can read between the lines. I know how other women think.”
Pastor shook his head, grinned, and continued to nod. Stiles folded his arms together. “Mother, you’re a true piece of work.” He started grinning like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Stiles remained at the hospital with Audrey for another hour. Pastor insisted on spending the night with his wife.
On his way home, Stiles called Francesca to tell her about Audrey. Francesca didn’t sound overly concerned or caring. She told Stiles to call her if something serious happened. Stiles and Francesca engaged in an argument because of Francesca’s lack of concern for their mother.
“Look, don’t try to call me like I’m supposed to get up and run down there every time Mother or Pastor sneezes. You’re there. You’re her golden boy, so you handle the situation. I have faith in you,” taunted Francesca.
“Francesca, what happened to you? You’re all up in the church pretending like you’ve got it all together and—”
“Don’t even try it, Stiles. Nothing you say is going to make me feel guilty. So let me tell you how it’s not going to be,” yelled Francesca. “You know what; I think I’ll show you instead.”
Stiles heard her end the call. He was furious. “I can’t believe she hung up on me.” He hit the lower palm of his hand on the console of his car. “Stupid,” he mouthed.
Twenty minutes after leaving the hospital, Stiles was at home. He called to check on his parents again, and Pastor answered the hospital phone. He told Stiles that Audrey had just been taken to have some x-rays done. Father and son chatted for a minute or two. At first Stiles was going to tell Pastor about his tiff with Francesca, but then decided that it would only upset his father more than he already was. After he finished talking to Pastor, he did his usual end of the day duties, and then sat back in his recliner and turned on the television. He flipped through channels until he settled on ESPN Sports channel. He didn’t know he had dozed off until the ringing cell phone woke him. He popped open his eyes and reached on his side for the phone.
PRIVATE CALLER, the ID read.
“Hello,” Stiles answered.
“Pastor?”
Stiles’s breath deflated when he heard the throaty voice on the phone. It was not who he wanted it to be. Why would it be Rena, he thought. She isn’t going to call me again. “Yes, Brother Jones. What can I do for you?” asked Stiles.
Stiles listened to Brother Jones who played many roles in Stiles’s life: friend, church deacon, and confidante; of which, by choice, Stiles didn’t have many. Brother Jones confided in him about a relationship matter that he’d gotten himself entangled in. The two of them talked until Stiles convinced his friend of the right thing to do.
I don’t know how I just gave him advice when I don’t know what direction I’m headed in myself. I just wish she would call, one more time. Rena, I wish I hadn’t messed up what we had. If I had the chance, I’d say things differently. I would have acted differently. I woulda, woulda, woulda. Just shut up. You woulda, but you didn’t. He turned off his cell phone and the television and slowly walked to his bedroom. The day had been one that had really tested his faith and his strength to hold up under taxing situations. On top of all that had transpired today, he didn’t feel the need to stay up any longer with thoughts of Rena bobbing around in his head. He needed an escape. He needed sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
“Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.”
~Arthur Koestler~
For the next few days, Audrey’s hospital care intensified. Her cough continued to worsen, and it was difficult to treat her bedsores. Audrey’s immune system weakened, and her blood sugar level and blood pressure remained elevated.
Stiles sat beside her hospital bed. He had finally convinced Pastor to go home and get some rest. Pastor had never left her side since the day she was admitted, but his energy had waned, and Stiles pushed him to leave for a few hours.
“Pastor,” Audrey called out and looked around the hospital room. Her eyes were droopy and her voice sounded weak. Stiles jumped up when he heard her call for his father.
“Mother, Pastor has gone home to clean himself up. Get some sleep. It won’t be long before he comes back.”
“Stiles, I don’t feel so well.” Stiles noticed the tiny beads of sweat forming on her forehead. He touched her head slightly and she felt unusually warm. He poured her a cup of ice water. She took only a few sips from a straw before she turned her head aside.
“Mother, maybe I should get the nurse in here to check your temp. She can give you something to help you to feel better.”
“Wait,” Audrey said in a weak voice. “I want you to know how much I love you, son. I want to tell you that I’m sorry for all of the trouble I caused.”
Stiles looked at Audrey and tears started forming. “Mother, please, get some rest. There’s no need to apologize about anything.”
“Ye . . . Yes there is,” she began struggling to talk. “I did wrong by Francesca. I was so wrong. God forgive me. Please, Lord, forgive me.” Stiles saw tears run down his mother’s smooth cheeks.
“Mother, I’m calling for the nurse.” Stiles pushed the call button and asked the nurse to come in to check on Audrey. Audrey didn’t put up a fuss. This heightened Stiles’s concern for his mother even more. The nurse came in straight away and took Audrey’s temperature. It was elevated: 103 degrees.
“I’m going to call her doctor. I’ll return shortly with something to help decrease her fever,” she said to Stiles. She patted Audrey on the arm, and then turned around and exited the room.
Before the nurse returned to the room, Audrey screamed loudly. Stiles pounced up from the chair beside her bed.
“Mother, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked in a terrified voice.
Audrey’s eyes rolled upward and her body jerked like she was being electrocuted. She took the hand with the IV embedded in it, and flopped it across her heart. Stiles ran toward the hospital room door and yanked it open. He collided with the nurse who had returned to administer medication to reduce Audrey’s fever.
The nurse dropped the medicine cup when she saw Audrey convulsing. She buzzed for assistance. “Code Blue, room 402, Code Blue, room 402,” she announced when Audrey went unconscious.
Suddenly a team of nurses, doctors, and a medical cart rolled through the door. One of the nurses pushed Stiles outside and instructed him to go to the patient waiting area, where someone would let him know what was going on. Stiles rubbed his hand nervously through his hair. It took him a minute to get himself together enough so he could go to the waiting area. Once there, he continued his pace, back and forth, back and forth. He reached on his side and pulled out his BlackBerry and called Brother Jones.
“Look, I need you to go and get my father right away. Bring him to the hospital.” Stiles almost screamed into the phone. He was terrified.
“What is it, man?” Brother Jones talked to him like the best friend that he was to Stiles instead of Pastor and church member.
“It’s my mother, man! She just, she just went unconscious. They called a Code Blue. I’m in the waiting room.” He spoke nervously and his voice trembled. “Get Pastor here as quickly as you can. I’ll call him and tell him you’re on the way, but don’t tell him that Mother is unconscious. I don’t want him speculating anything. Just get him here,” Stiles said in a pleading voice.
“Will do, man. And you hold on. I’ll be praying.” Stiles cal
led Sister Detria next. Her voice mail came on and he left her a quick message.
“Lord, please. Help my mother; do it, Lord. Please.” He begged God with tears pouring from his eyes.
“Mr. Graham?” he heard the throaty sound of someone calling his name. Stiles did an abrupt turn and wiped his tears with the back of his hand.
“Yes, that’s me. I mean, I’m Stiles Graham,” he said in a confused state. He looked at the doctor’s ashened colored face, and Stiles suspected what he didn’t want to face. “How is she? Can I go see my mother now?” Stiles asked.
“I . . . Mr. Graham, we did...”
Stiles fell down to his knees and onto the tile floor. “Noooo,” he screamed. The doctor knelt down and another person in the waiting room rushed over and they helped Stiles to his feet.
“We did all we could. But your mother went into sudden cardiac arrest. We couldn’t revive her. I’m sorry.”
“No no no. Not my mother. Not my mother.” His cries turned into sobs of pain. The doctor held his hand on Stiles’s back.
“Is there anyone you’d like me to have our staff call? Are you here alone?” The doctor asked with true concern.
“My father is on his way up here,” Stiles managed to tell the doctor. “I’m a pastor. I’m going to call my church. Some others will be here shortly.”
“Good. You don’t need to be alone at a time like this,” the doctor told him.
“Can I see her?” asked Stiles and looked up at the doctor with eyes bloodshot from crying so hard.
“Yes, but it’ll be a few minutes. I’ll have one of the nurses come get you when it’s okay for you to see her.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” said Stiles. He looked at the stranger who sat beside him; the person that had helped him up when he collapsed. “And thank you too.”
The stranger nodded his head once before he returned to his original seat.
For Stiles, it seemed like time had stood still. A wave of thoughts about Audrey rushed through his mind. The nurse came shortly after the doctor left. He led Stiles to his mother’s room. She was lying in the bed and looked like she was asleep. Stiles saw the crooked expression on her face, one that looked like she had been in pain when she died. It hurt so bad to see her lying so still. He heard the cries of his father, as he came down the hallway and joined Stiles in the hospital room. The doctor or one of the nurses must have told him that Audrey had gone into cardiac arrest and died.
My Son's Ex-Wife: The Aftermath Page 15