My Son's Wife

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My Son's Wife Page 18

by Shelia E. Bell


  KaPow! The loud sound cracked her ears. Frankie looked up to see Kansas turn the corner in her wrecked front end 1989 Grand Prix with a trail of smoke so thick, she could barely see the houses across the street. Frankie quickly brushed the last bucket of tears away from her lightly scarred face just as Kansas managed to steer the car into the driveway. Turning off the ignition, the vehicle sputtered and spitted like it had a mind of its own, while Kansas shuffled up the walkway to aid Frankie.

  Pecking her on the cheek, she asked, “Whuzzup? Who helped you get out here?”

  Still frazzled over the invasive thoughts that saturated her mind, her speech reflected her displeasure.

  “I didn’t need no help,” she snapped.

  Kansas responded by displaying both palms in a show of defense. “You ready to vamp?”

  “If only you could imagine just how ready I am.” Frankie wobbled alongside Kansas until they made it to the now quiet-as-a-whistle automobile. She did allow Kansas to open the passenger door for her to climb inside. After Frankie settled inside the car, Kansas turned the ignition. The car sputtered, shook and a white cloud of smoke filled the air again.

  Frankie laid her head back against the worn headrest and sighed heavily. “Dang, you don’t know how good it feels to get away from that dungeon. I gotta do something, Kansas. I need a place of my own again. I’m telling you, I can’t take it.”

  “Main, it’s like that up in there? I guess having a preacher for a daddy has to be rough, huh?”

  “Rough ain’t the word. Anyway, my daddy ain’t the one. It’s Audrey who gives me the blues. I swear; I can’t stay in that house with that woman any longer. She drives me insane. She makes my skin crawl.” Frankie scratched her arm like she had fleas.

  “It’s that bad?”

  “Yeaaa, it’s that bad. If I told you the real deal about her, you might start choosin’ up on men,” Frankie laughed harshly.

  “Aww, Lawd.” Kansas laughed. “Puhleeze, don’t tell me a thang about your momma if it’s gonna make me do somethin’ crazy like that, girl.” Kansas lit a cigarette, passed it over to Frankie and proceeded to drive in the direction of Interstate 240.

  Stiles paced back and forth over the area rug in the den. His mind was made up. He was going to follow Pastor’s advice and talk to Rena. This time, he wouldn’t let her weasel her way out of it either. He sat on the couch and picked up a Jet magazine when he heard the garage door going down and Rena’s key jingle in the kitchen door.

  “Stiles, are you here?”

  “In the den,” he answered.

  Rena followed the sound of her husband’s voice, placed her purse on the sofa before going in the den. She planted a light kiss on his lips. She asked, “How was your day?”

  “I guess you can say it was business as usual.”

  Rena picked up on the eerie calmness of his voice. Had he discovered her dreadful secret? Did Frankie call and tell him? The harder she tried to ignore the truth the more the thought persisted.

  “What about you?”

  “What do you mean?” Rena’s paranoia set in. She fumbled with the buttons on her shirt,

  “I mean, how was work today? You look a little tired.”

  Rena relaxed. “I am. The library was packed today. We had busload after busload of school children. It’s Read Across America Month and busy isn’t the word for what’s been happening around that place the past couple of days. What if I prepare one of those thirty minute meals for us.”

  Stiles was determined to bring everything to a head tonight. “Don’t bother on my account. I’m not hungry. I ate earlier,” Stiles told her.

  “Oh, well, that’s fine. I’m going to take a shower and then I’m going to fix me a sandwich. I think I’m going to call it an early evening. I’m beat.”

  “Rena, we need to talk, and we need to talk tonight.”

  “Talk? Talk about what?” Rena hoped the knot forming in her throat wasn’t noticeable. She swallowed hard.

  “About us. And don’t tell me there’s nothing wrong because you and I both know there’s plenty wrong in this marriage. The only way we’re going to work through this is by communicating. Come on, sit down.” Stiles patted the cushion next to him.

  Rena cautiously sat down.

  “Rena, I love you. Do you know that?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course, I know you love me. I love you too. What’s this all about?”

  “Us. You and me.” She noticed that he was watching her intently. “I believe our marriage is in trouble. I mean, you barely say anything to me anymore. You don’t want me to touch you. You’re always avoiding me and basically I don’t feel like you’re giving one hundred percent to this marriage.”

  Rena’s ears began to burn. Stiles was right, to a certain point, but not for the reasons he thought.

  “Stiles, I don’t know what you expect from me.” She looked at him then quickly looked away. With her head held down, she tried to think of what to say next. Glancing back up at his sad countenance, she told him, “I love you. I love you so much. I know that I haven’t been affectionate or wanting intimacy lately. But all I can tell you is that I need time.” A quick and disturbing thought came to her, then she said, “Sex, well I…all I can say is that I don’t seem to enjoy it as much as you. I don’t know why, but the thought of being intimate frightens me, Stiles. Maybe I should see a doctor.” God, more lies. But it was all she could think to say at the time.

  “I think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to come off like something must be wrong with you, but maybe there’s some underlying reason for your lack of interest. I mean all I do is think about you, about touching you and making love to you. I want you to have my children, Rena. When I see you, I want to reach out and grab hold of you and never let you go.” Stiles’s face lit up like Christmas lights. He took hold of Rena’s hands and kneaded them inside of his own.

  “Rena, if it’s me, please, please tell me, sweetheart. I don’t ever want to hurt you. I want to satisfy you. I don’t want to force you to do anything that you don’t want to do. I want you to want me. Tell me, is there someone else? Are you sorry that you married me? Just tell me what it is, so we can work it out.”

  “Stiles, no,” she gasped. “You have it all wrong. There could never be anyone but you. You’re everything to me. And not for one moment have I ever regretted marrying you.”

  “Well, talk to me, then. Tell me what’s going on? Is there some, some problem I don’t know about? Is there something about me that turns you off? Something you’re afraid to tell me? Whatever it is, you have to believe that with God, we can get through it.”

  “Baby, it’s nothing like that.” Rena could barely stand to hear him blame himself for the strain in their marriage. She was the blame for everything. Everything was her fault. When they got married, she had visions of being a mother, the perfect wife.

  “And children? We agreed we wanted to have children right away. So much is going through my head.” Stiles stood and paced in front of Rena. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this, Rena. All I know is that I can’t do it by myself.” His voice sounded like it raised, and Rena detected the yearning for answers in his voice.

  “I want the same thing, baby. Look, why don’t I make an appointment with a gynecologist and make sure that there isn’t anything physically wrong with me. Until then, try to be a little more patient with me. Just a while longer, Stiles,” Rena pleaded, and tried to erase the guilty thoughts creeping through her mind.

  “Let me know when you make the appointment. I want to go with you,” Stiles told her.

  Rena hadn’t expected him to say he wanted to go with her. She tripped over her own words as alarm stole away in her heart and mind. “Tha..that won’t be necessary, honey,” she managed to say and added a fake smile.

  “Are you sure?” he asked firmly.

  “I’m sure. If it turns up that something is wrong, then I’ll ask you to go with me.”

 
“Just so you know, we’re in this thing together. Now come on, I’ll start the shower for you,” he said and leaned down to kiss her full on her lips.

  His lips pressed against hers felt heavenly. Her heart pounded with desire and her body slightly trembled.

  Stiles eased one hand and then the other along the length of her arms. Slowly he pulled her up from the sofa and allowed his eyes to seduce her as they boldly raked over her. His warm, full lips met hers in a slow, drugging kiss.

  “Rena, baby, I need you so badly,” he groaned with yearning desire as his need for her pressed between her thighs. “I need you, baby. Please, let me love you. If you’ll trust me, you know I won’t hurt you. You know I would never do that,” he said hungrily.

  “Stiles, I told you,” she said apologetically. A single tear sparkled like a diamond in the crest of her left eye. “How I wish I could, but I can’t.” Pushing away from him, Rena rushed out of the den and went back to their bedroom. She hurried into the master bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

  Stiles stood as if time had came to a halt. Feeling dejected and confused, he rubbed his head with the palm of his hand and sat back down on the couch…alone.

  Later on that night, Rena tossed and turned while Stiles slept. She reached over and with the tips of her fingers she traced light feathery strokes along his chest.

  You look so peaceful. God, I love you, but I’ve ruined your life. How do I tell you? How?

  Ring, ring.

  Rena jumped at the sound of the ringing phone. “Who in the world is calling at this time of night?” She glanced at Stiles who continued to sleep undisturbed.

  The caller ID read, blocked call, and at first thought Rena started not to answer. With her curiosity mounted, she picked up the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Yeah, skip the small talk.”

  “Why are you calling here at this time of night?” Rena asked as soon as she recognized Frankie’s voice.

  “We need to talk.” Frankie’s voice hardened.

  “Are you crazy? It’s after midnight. What do we need to talk about anyway?” Rena whispered and glanced over her shoulder to make sure Stiles was still asleep.

  “We need to talk about when you’re going to tell my brother, and your husband, the truth.” With each slurred word that escaped Frankie’s mouth, Rena could tell that Frankie was high. She always could.

  Rena heard talking and loud music in the background. “Where are you?”

  “Don’t worry about that. You just concentrate on where you are,” Frankie responded with her off the wall answer. “I so sick of you tryin’ to live like you so good, and you so perfect. You ain’t doing nothin’ but making a fool of my brother.”

  Rena eased out of the bed and tip-toed into the hallway. “Look, I don’t have time for this tonight. You need to sleep off that high you’re on, then call me,” Rena answered sharply.

  “Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” she screamed in a stern and threatening voice. “Now you listen to me, you lil’ sneaky, conniving trick. If you don’t tell Stiles by tomorrow night, I’m gonna tell ‘em for you.” Frankie slammed down the phone so hard that Rena’s ears started ringing.

  Rena paced the hall; she frantically tried several numbers, hoping she could reach Frankie. After several failed attempts, Rena turned off the ringer just in case Frankie tried to call back. Just as quietly as she left, she returned to the bedroom and lay back in the bed. Praying within, she begged God for His mercy. Her marriage was sure to be over if Stiles found out the truth. The past was about to catch up with her. Looking at Stiles again, Rena turned on her side with her back facing him. God, help me. Please, help me. Part of a passage of scripture she learned as a little girl came to Rena’s mind─ for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more. God, I know I have to suffer the consequences of my sin, even if you have forgiven me. But does Stiles have to suffer because of me and Frankie’s mistakes?

  Suddenly, Rena’s head began to pound. Tears spilled from her eyes and on to the sheets. The skeletons inside of her closet were beating against the door...hard. They’d been hidden away far too long and were ready to come out.

  24

  Nothing ends nicely, that's why it ends. Tom Cruise

  Rena woke up late the next morning with swollen eyes, with her hair matted down where tears had settled during the night. Stiles’s side of the bed was empty. Looking at the desk clock, Rena saw that it was almost ten o’clock. Normally, on Saturday mornings, she was awake by no later than eight-thirty. After recalling what happened the previous night, Rena rubbed her face with her hands. She picked up the cordless phone and scrolled through the caller ID to see if Frankie had called back─there was another blocked call.

  Rena jumped up from the bed. A faint feeling came over her at the thought that Frankie may have already told Stiles everything. She went to see if Stiles was in the house. An uncanny stillness came over her at the emptiness that filled the house on Berry Hill. Too frightened to call his name, Rena moved quietly from room to room until she realized that Stiles wasn’t there. She ran to the door that led to the garage. His car was gone.

  “Where is he? He usually wakes me up to tell me that he’s leaving. Oh, God, this isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.” Spying the cordless phone on the kitchen countertop, Rena headed for it. Immediately she dialed the Graham resident, only for Audrey to tell her that Frankie left sometime the day before and hadn’t come back or called.

  The phone rang just after Rena hung up from talking to Audrey. Rena snatched the phone off the counter. “Hello.”

  “You told your husband yet?”

  “Frankie, where are you? I am not about to play games with you,” Rena yelled into the receiver.

  “Who’s talkin’ about games?” Frankie snarled on the other end of the phone. “I told you, you tell Stiles today, or I will.”

  “Where are you?” asked Rena, desperation pleading in her voice.

  “What does it matter?” The coldness in Frankie’s voice was enough to chill an entire room.

  Rena’s anger transformed to slush. “Because we need to talk. If I’m going to tell Stiles, I want to talk to you first.”

  “Be at Pastor and Audrey’s house at one o’clock. I’ll be there by then,” Frankie ordered and hung up the phone.

  Rena loathed the control Frankie still had over her. Rena tried to call Stiles on his cell phone but it went straight to voice mail. “Lord, this might be a set up. Stiles could be there waiting on me too. But I don’t have a choice. I have to go because if he isn’t there, then Frankie is sure to tell him. If he isn’t then maybe I can find a way to talk her out of telling him. She can’t hate me that much. We’ve been through too much together,” Rena tried convincing herself.

  At twelve twenty-five, Rena retrieved her cell phone and clutch purse. Grabbing the keys from the kitchen key holder, she entered the codes on the security keypad and slammed the kitchen door.

  In less than twenty minutes, fifteen and a half to be exact, Rena pulled into her in-laws’ driveway. She jumped out, ran to the door, and pushed the doorbell.

  It was almost three minutes before Frankie opened it, and nodded for Rena to come in.

  The first thing Rena noticed was how bad Frankie looked. Her hair was packed down on her head, deep circles cradled her eyes and her pimpled skin was dry as a bone. Rena stepped inside, looking around to see if there was any sign of Pastor and Audrey.

  “There’s no one here, if that’s whatcha tryin’ to see.” Frankie said, closing the door.

  The two of them went into the family room. Frankie slowly maneuvered herself so she could sit down in the recliner facing Rena but Rena continued to stand. Her folded arms and hands resting under her arm pits revealed her uneasiness.

  “Rena, I’m going to get straight to the point. It’s time for you to come clean.”

  “Did you just say, come clean?” remarked Rena, with an expression like that of a marble statu
e plastered across her face. “How can telling Stiles that I had a sexual relationship with another woman possibly be called, coming clean? And then, it was with you, his sister?” Rena lashed out.

  “Whaddaya mean, it was with me? You sound like the fool that you are. But baa-by, you ain’t Miss Innocent, so girl, puhleeze. Marrying my brother don’t make you a saint.” Frankie screamed.

  Rena stomped across the floor. “You’ve always been selfish, Frankie. Always. Just because you’ve managed to screw up your life, you want to screw up mine too. Isn’t it bad enough that you gave me an incurable STD? Haven’t you done enough? How can I tell my husband about that? And how can we ever have children? Don’t you have an ounce of goodness left in you?” Rena’s fair skin turned a glowing red as she unleashed the fury mounting up inside her.

  Frankie leaned forward, slightly, in the chair as if she was about to get up. “Obviously, I don’t ‘cause what you sayin’ sounds like a personal problem to me. Maybe you shoulda thought about that before you married him, considering the life style we were leading, you know. I have no pity for you. If I’m gay, then so are you. You’re just a fool trying to hide behind religion to shield what you really are. You’re stupid, Rena; a stupid, lesbian wench.” Frankie laughed out loud at the sickened look that came on Rena’s face.

  Rena balled her fists and went toward Frankie to strike her, but an invisible force kept her from doing so.

  “Go on, hit me. That’s the real you, Rena. Let it come out.”

  Arguing so loudly, neither of the women heard the front door open and then close. Pastor followed the voices he recognized as Francesca and Rena. He stood in the kitchen by the refrigerator, hidden from their view, and listened to the blaze of accusations spewing from their mouths. My God, Lord I know this can’t be true what I’m hearing. Pastor walked toward the family room to stop the vicious words being passed between Frankie and Rena. He ignored the sudden lightheadedness and his unsteady gait.

 

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