“Okay, it’s your call.” He leaned in next to her and kissed her, followed by a light chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just being with you, having you as my wife, makes me happy. I love you, Francesca.”
Francesca looked deeply into his sexy eyes. “I love you too. I don’t know what I would do without you, Tim. You, I mean you loved me when I was at my lowest, when I wasn’t loveable. You are a God sent man, and I want to live out the rest of my days with you.” She massaged the side of his face with the back of her hand.
Francesca still couldn’t believe the deep feelings that had evolved toward Brother Tim. Initially, when he confessed his feelings to her she thought something was wrong with him. That maybe he was well, slow, is what she called him. But it didn’t take long, not long at all for Francesca to realize that Tim was a real, true-life man of God. He had the gift of looking past a person’s appearance and seeing the kind of person they were on the inside. He took people at face value. Something Francesca believed she did as well, only it had backfired on her in a terrible, terrible way.
Growing up, falling in love, and getting married was something Francesca had rarely thought about. When Fonda started molesting her, Francesca thought about it then. Thinking of being with a boy and falling in love helped her to remember that what Fonda made her do was wrong. But her brief, childlike thought of boys was forever damaged when Pastor Travis, the former youth minister of Holy Rock, raped her right in his office at Holy Rock. She refused to trust anybody anymore.
It was the main reason Francesca turned away from God. She thought if God was supposed to love her so much, then why did he let Fonda and Minister Travis do those things to her? God had to hate her, is what she came to believe. Francesca grew angrier toward Him the more she relived her molestation and rape. She credited her friendship with Rena for helping her to survive.
Francesca felt a kindred spirit with Rena. They were both fifteen years old when their friendship changed into a sexual relationship. They had been old enough to understand the decision they made, but too young to believe it mattered.
Francesca believed Rena and her to be best friends, but she still could never tell Rena about what had happened to her; she was too ashamed and embarrassed to tell anyone, including the police.
As their friendship strengthened, and shortly after Minister Travis raped her, Francesca vowed she would never under any circumstances, let another man touch her. Then she thought about Fonda and told herself to choose the lesser of two evils. Fonda, Francesca had decided. I can be in control with another woman. I can be like Fonda. That way no one, male or female, can ever hurt me like that again, she’d thought all those years ago.
“You make me feel,” Francesca broke out singing and grinning at the same time. “Uuuuuu make me feel.”
Tim leaned backward on the sofa and started laughing at his wife.
“I said, uuuuuuuu make me feel like a nat…u…ral…woman.” Francesca’s cat, Jabez, started meowing and strolled away from where he was propped against her ankles.
“You are so bad, so bad.” His fingers curling underneath her chin as he spoke. Next he kissed the crown of her hairless head. “And I love every note of it.”
Francesca popped her head up and started chuckling this time. “You are so full of it, Brother Tim Swift. You’ll use anything to try to seduce me, won’t you?” she asked him between laughing.
“You can’t blame a man for trying.” He lifted both hands and hunched his shoulders.
Playfully, Francesca hit him on his shoulder. “At least I was singing the truth, or trying to sing the truth. ‘Cause you do make me feel like a woman. I can’t ever remember feeling like a real woman, a natural woman. You know what, Tim?”
“No, I don’t know what. So tell me,” he answered as he tenderly toyed with her right ear.
“I think I can honestly say that I’ve missed feeling this feeling that I feel when I’m with you. God never gave up on me. He brought me back around. Gave me another chance to live, to experience genuine love from him and love from him through you. I’m a woman, Tim. I’m a real woman.”
Francesca looked at herself like she was unfamiliar with her own skin. Perhaps in a way she was because she saw herself differently. Francesca had come to love herself. She’d finally started the process of forgiving herself knowing that God already had.
“You are a real woman, Francesca. And that’s why I fell in love with you so easily. You were wounded, but we all are in some way. I know I am,” Tim emphasized. “I’m just grateful that God loved me so much that He blessed me with you,” Tim said then stood up from the couch. He reached his hand toward Francesca. She accepted it and stood up.
He nipped her on the lip. “Now, what do you want to eat today, natural woman? Do you feel like going out?”
Her smiled widened. “I believe I do feel like going out. It’s a beautiful day outside, it’s not too humid, and plus I’ve been feeling pretty since we’ve been back home. Those herbs and my changed diet are really doing wonders on this body. Thank God for that.”
“Great.” Tim rubbed his hands together. “So where would my natural woman like to go?”
“I have a taste for one of those vegetable shish kabobs from that new place in midtown.” Francesca licked her lips.
“ALL Veggies?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Okay, ALL Veggies it is. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m ready,” she answered. She grabbed hold of the cane parked next to her and stood up.
Tim took hold of her free hand, and the two of them left their house to go enjoy spending time with one another over a good meal.
◊
“So what do you think your brother has to tell you?” Tim asked as he poked a pile of nachos ‘n cheese on his fork and guided it into his mouth.
“I don’t know, and honestly I don’t care. Do you think it’s wrong for me to feel like that?”
“Baby, from all you’ve told me, you’ve been through a lot with your family, especially your mother, so I understand the reason you feel the way you do. But on the other hand, you know I’m going to tell you how I feel from a Godly standpoint.”
Francesca picked up her glass of lemon water, took a sip and nodded her head. “Yea, I know. So let it rip.”
“You already know one of my favorite passages in the Bible talks about letting go of the past. Right?”
“Right,” Francesca answered while pulling a piece of red bell pepper off the kabob and popping it into her mouth. “And I’m trying to let go of the past. Believe me, Tim. But it’s hard. Every time I think about my life and all of the horrible things that were done to me and the terrible things I did to myself, I get all messed up on the inside. I’ve made so many mistakes and to add insult to injury, my own mother acted like she despised me.” Tears gathered up in the corners of her eyes. Francesca wiped them away before they had a chance to fall down her face.
Tim extended his hand and used his thumb to brush away the remaining tears. “It’s going to be just fine. You’ll see. But first you have to stop looking back, Francesca. You have to forget what’s behind you, baby, and strain toward what’s ahead. And what is remembering the past going to do but keep you bound and upset? You know what the Bible teaches us about that.”
Francesca frowned, put down her fork and exchanged it for her glass of water. “I know, but still, it’s easy for you to say. You had a normal childhood with two loving parents and two sisters who still spoil you to this day. You have no idea what it’s like to be an outcast, to be raised in a household that’s supposed to be so spiritual but nothing but hell going on in the inside. Here my father was, a preacher, a pastor of a church, standing up Sunday after Sunday preaching the word of God. But his own house was falling apart. And my mother, let’s not even go there with her. She was parading all up in Holy Rock, dressed to the nines and acting like she was all that, when she was nothing but evil and lo
wdown. All she cared about was what other folks thought.”
“Look.” Tim reached out and grabbed Francesca’s trembling hands and wrapped them inside his. “We’re not going to do this. We’re supposed to be having a good time this evening, not rehashing all the hurt of yesterday or comparing each other’s pasts. Okay?” he said then caressed her cheek.
Francesca stared into his inviting sea green eyes. “You’re right. It just gets so hard sometimes. And now Stiles is coming up here with more drama from my past. Tim, I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. Why couldn’t I have had a normal childhood, with a normal family like yours? Why did it have to be me?”
Tim placed two fingers on her lips. “Shhh, stop that. You’re not going to go back to questioning why things happened the way they did. The important thing is that you’re here, right now, with me and you are loved. I love you more than life itself, Francesca. My family is crazy about you. Our church family loves you, but most importantly, God loves you. And if you don’t want to see Stiles or hear what he has to say, then don’t see him. It’s simple as that. You’re one tough cookie and you know as good as I do that if you tell him that you don’t want to hear whatever it is he wants to tell you, then he can’t do anything but respect that.”
“I know. You’re right, but I’m going to let him come on up here and get it over with. Then I’m going to tell him that whatever else he has to say, he needs to tell it to somebody else because I’m not hearing it.”
“See, that’s my girl.” Tim smiled and so did Francesca. “Now let’s finish grubbing before our food gets cold.”
“I love you, Tim.”
“Of course you do. How can you not love a good-looking, suave fellow like myself,” he said jokingly.
“Boy, please. Eat your food so nothing else crazy comes out of your mouth,” Francesca responded.
They laughed together and Francesca pushed the worries of the past out of her mind, and concentrated on the man sitting across the table.
14
“Simply having children does not make mothers.” John A. Shedd
Stiles pulled up in the driveway, opened the door to the garage of his home and much to his surprise his wife’s car was parked in her space. “She better be here,” he mumbled. “I’ve had too much to deal with today and her shenanigans is something I’m not going to put up with.”
He parked next to her, got out of his vehicle and slammed the door, and walked toward the entrance into their spacious home.
“I’m home,” he shouted. No response “I’m home,” he said again as he walked from the kitchen into the hallway. Still nothing. He made his way up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Laying across the bed was Detria minus Baby Audrey. He stared at her for several seconds before he turned and walked down the hall to the nursery. No Baby Audrey.
Where in the world is my daughter? Lord, help me to keep my calm. He bolted back to the bedroom.
“Where is Audrey?” he yelled as soon as he darted the door of their bedroom.
Detria jumped up suddenly. “What?” she asked like she was confused. “Why are you yelling?”
“I said, where is my daughter?”
“Oh, she’s with Mother Brown,” Detria answered nonchalantly. She got up and slowly walked toward their on-suite master bathroom.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Stiles said and with two giant steps he was at her side and holding her by the elbow.
“Take your hands off me,” Detria yelled. “Don’t even think about─”
“Don’t think about what?” Stiles barked. “Tell me why she’s with Mother Brown and not with her own mother, Detria?” He loosened his grip on her but he bit into his lower lip.
“I’ve been at the church practically all day with your daughter,” she said like she was mad. “I have to tend to her while you run off to church or to that university. You have all the time you want to run around but as soon as I leave her for a few hours with someone we both trust,” she said with emphasis, “you want to come up in here yelling and flying all off the handle. Now, I told you, she’s with Mother Brown. She’s going to bring her to church tomorrow. That way I can get me some rest tonight and get up early tomorrow morning, go to church and get things set up for our first children’s church service in the new children’s center.”
“You’re telling me she’s supposed to spend the night away from home? Are you crazy?” Stiles fumed. He was furious. How could Detria leave their child for somebody else to take care of. True enough, Mother Brown was someone he trusted to take care of his daughter, but only when they really needed her services. And being tired was not a good enough reason for Stiles. What kind of first time mother would dare think about leaving their baby with someone else? Was Detria gone mad or what?
“Call Mother Brown,” he ordered and picked up their landline phone from the night stand and shoved it toward Detria.
Detria looked at the cordless phone in Stiles’ hand and attempted to walk past him. “I’m not calling her. For what? Audrey is fine. She’s probably down for the night anyway.”
“I said, call her and tell her you’re on your way to get our child.”
Detria stopped, put her hands on her hip and said, “And I said, I’m not doing it. If you want her, you go get her and you’re going to stay up with her all night if you bring her home. You know for yourself if you wake her up from her sleep, she’s going to be up all night long. She’s just like your mother, cranky,” Detria smarted off and dashed past Stiles and into their bathroom, pushing the door closed behind her.
Stiles balled up his fist and hit the door so hard it put a hole in it.
Detria opened it up. “What in the world is wrong with you? Are you gone mad or something? Look at my door,” she continued ranting. “You’re going to fix it, Stiles. I don’t know what your problem is lately with all of these violent outbursts, but you’ve got the wrong sister. I’m not going to sit back and let you beat on me. You think you miss your precious little Audrey now, wait until I up and leave your tail. Keep on acting like you all big and bad,” she pointed a lone finger at him, “and you’re going to find yourself up in this house all alone, Mr. Preacher Boy cause me and your daughter will be outta here. Believe that,” she said and turned away and went back into the bathroom.
Stiles found it hard to believe that she had threatened to leave him and take his daughter with her. He rubbed his hand over his head and started pacing across the span of the spacious bedroom. His cell phone rang from the clip on his belt.
He ignored it. The phone rang again. He ignored it. It rang again. This time Stiles removed it from the clip, glanced at the ID and then answered it.
“What is it, Pastor?” Stiles said as soon as he pushed the green TALK button. “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses. I don’t want to hear an apology for screwing up not only my mother’s life but my sister’s as well.”
The door to the bathroom opened and Detria slowly walked out, arms folded. She stood almost directly in front of Stiles.
“I said I don’t want to hear it,” he screamed. “And you call yourself a man of God. How could you force my mother to keep a child that you know was the result of a rape?”
Detria’s hand flew up to her mouth. “What?” she screamed. “Who are you talking about? Audrey, your mother? Who? Frankie, I mean Francesca?”
Stiles turned and walked out of the room and went to his study. This time it was his turn to slam the door in Detria’s face, and he did just that, locking it as well. In between his father’s pleas for understanding and forgiveness, he heard the doorknob being turned back and forth followed by Detria pounding on the door.
“Let me in,” she yelled from the other side. “I have a right to know what’s going on in this family, Stiles Graham. Open this door,” she screamed.
Stiles ignored her and remained focused on telling Pastor exactly how he felt. “I don’t care if you believe in abortion or not. It was not your decision and you had no right to impo
se your beliefs down my mother’s throat.”
“Son, listen. I know what your mother said in that letter, but honest it’s not like you think.”
“You’re a liar, and you know it and God knows it. And to think all of my life I’ve thought of you as my father. But you’re nothing but a bully. You used God’s word against my mother. You twisted it and made her feel like she would be wrong if she aborted the seed of a rapist.”
“When your mother said she was pregnant, it was hard, extremely hard for both of us. You think that I didn’t feel sickened by what had happened. If only I had been there that night then I could have stopped it, but I wasn’t. But God is still in control, even though what happened was horrific.”
“It was more than horrific. I’m sure it was devastating for her. To have someone violate you like that.”
“But still, the fact remains, having an abortion was not the answer. And just think about it; if you’ll do that you’ll agree with me. You wouldn’t have your sister if Audrey had aborted her, and I wouldn’t have been blessed with my dear, darling Francesca.”
“Open the door,” Detria kept yelling.
Stiles clinched his mouth and chuckled nastily, all while ignoring Detria. “Are you serious? Blessed? Do you think Francesca is going to feel that way when she finds out the truth? And what about her life and the way mother treated her? How is that a blessing? Sounds more like a curse to me. My sister has been going through pure hell since the time she was a little girl. And she’s never known why. All the time you had the answers. All the time it was because of a decision you made over my mother’s life? No wonder you acted like a spineless man when it came to Audrey.”
Pastor’s voice escalated over the phone. “Don’t you call me spineless. I did what I thought was best. I prayed about it and God gave me a peace about it. He wanted us to have Francesca. I know He did,” Pastor said vehemently. “Me and your mother talked a long time about whether she should keep the baby or not. It wasn’t me who forced her to have that child; we both agreed on it.”
My Sister My Momma My Wife Page 9