My Son's Wife

by Shelia E. Bell

  Stiles looked surprised when he opened the garage and saw Rena’s car. He said, “I didn’t know you were coming home today. But then again, why would I?”

  He walked through the house and discovered Rena curled up in the bed; she was sleep.

  The jolt against the bed as he passed by woke her and she saw Stiles going into their walk-in closet. Clearing the sleep from her eyes, she watched his lean physique. She lay quietly while he searched for an outfit. Their eyes connected when he walked out of the closet.

  “So, you decided to come back, huh?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Okay, so what now?”

  “That’s what I hoped we could talk about, Stiles. I know one thing; we can’t go on like this.”

  “While you were gone, I thought the best thing would be to see a lawyer about a divorce.”

  Rena’s pulse beat rapidly.

  “But I thought about it some more and I recognized that I have a responsibility to more than myself.” He pointed a finger at his chest. “I have a moral responsibility to God. As bad as I may want to call it quits, I don’t believe it’s God’s will, at least not now.” He stood at the foot of the bed, arms folded.

  Rena sat up. “Stiles, don’t stay with me because you don’t want to look bad before the church.”

  “Like I said, I have a responsibility and I’m going to do what God has called me to do. My suggestion is for us to remain married. I’ll move my things in the guest room. You won’t have to be bothered about me. All I ask is that you refrain from disgracing me and yourself further.”

  Rena’s voice was sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” he quickly spoke up, “that you’re not to run to my sister’s bed anymore, Rena. As long as I’m in that pulpit, I’m demanding for you to act like the woman God expects you to be. But outside of these doors, I expect you to carry yourself in a morally correct way. Stand by my side as my wife,” he said in a harsh raw voice. “Inside these doors, I don’t expect you to do anything for me, and you surely don’t have to worry your pretty little head about me asking you for sex.”

  Rena sat on the bed surrounded by sheer terror at the thought of her future. “As much as I dislike your demands on my life, I agree that we should stay married. I’ll walk the walk, talk the talk, and play the role, if that’s what God wants me to do. The last thing I want to do is embarrass you, your family and the church.” She took a deep breath punctuated with several even gasps. “So, I’m willing to live with your decision. But I promise you this; somehow, I’m going to prove to you, Stiles, that I’ve changed and that I’m worthy of being Mrs. Graham, in every way.”

  Rena returned to work, thankful to Mr. Bolden for standing up on her behalf.

  Mr. Bolden hugged her when she walked in. “How are you, Rena?”

  Rena returned his hug. “Things are better.” Without going into details she explained that she had to deal with some serious family issues.

  He listened to Rena, without reservation, and because she was one of his best librarians, he was eager to have her back. “I’m glad you’re back, Rena. This place has been a mad house. In one week alone, we’ve had forty-one tours. Can you believe that?”

  “My goodness, that’s phenomenal. Seems like I’ll be too busy to think about my problems.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Plus, you know I’m here for you. Any time you need a shoulder. “I’ve got one for you.”

  “Mr. Bolden, thank you for everything.”

  “Sure. Now come on.” He jokingly snapped his fingers at Rena and chuckled. “No more messing off. It’s time to get some work done around this place.”

  Sunday morning arrived way too soon for Rena. Standing in front of the full length mirror in the master bath, she surveyed her less than perfect body. It was almost show time and she had to put on her game face. Her choice of a flutter sleeved charcoal dress with an empire bottom made her look sweet and sophisticated. Accented with the perfect pair of earrings and shoes, Rena dabbed perfume behind each ear, the base of her throat and on her wrists.

  From the sound coming from the front of the house rather than the guest room, Rena gathered that Stiles was more than likely up and dressed already. Sucking in a deep breath, she nervously walked out of the room and up the hall.

  “Good morning,” she told him as she entered the kitchen.

  Sipping on decaf from his favorite mug, he barely acknowledged her presence. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  He finally looked at her. “I think we should keep our same routine. You drive your car, and I’ll drive mine. I won’t be home right after church. I want to visit some of our sick and shut-in.”

  “Sure.” Rena eased pass him. With her purse and keys in hand, she opened the garage door and walked to her car.

  Stiles followed suit, pausing long enough for her to maneuver out of the two car garage before doing the same.

  Rena drove along East Shelby Drive with her radio tuned to Hallelujah FM 95.7, listening to her favorite radio personality, Christie Taylor, play one gospel hit after another. One of her favorite songs by the Clark Sisters was interrupted by her cell phone. The ring tone let her know it was Stiles calling. What does he want?

  “Hello.”

  “I forgot to let you know that I’m going to swing by Emerald Estates and pick up Pastor.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know he was strong enough to get out.”

  “God is able, Rena. Pastor is a man of faith. He expects to be healed.”

  “I’ll see you at church.” Rena abruptly ended the call, barely able to contain her irritation. He acted like she was a stranger who didn’t know anything about Pastor. She turned the corner and accelerated, going at least ten miles above speed limit.

  Hands went up and shouts of praise filled the sanctuary when Stiles wheeled Pastor up the aisle of the sanctuary. A broad smile enveloped Pastor’s face and the First Lady beamed with pride as she walked next to her husband and Stiles.

  Rena turned and watched as the three of them made their way down front. Two of the deacons and close friends of Pastor and Audrey helped him to the pulpit. The church roared even louder with praise and thanksgiving.

  Audrey went directly to the section reserved for the pastor’s family. Judging from the glow on Audrey’s face and the kiss and hug she gave Rena when she sat next to here, there was probably no one who imagined that Audrey despised her son’s wife.

  Rena played her part well too, by smiling and greeting her mother-in-law. The order of service followed. The choir sung Pastor’s favorite song, “Grateful”, and he almost bopped out of the pulpit chair. Tears streamed down his face, his hands flew up in total praise, and from his crooked mouth came, “Hallelujah, I’m grateful. I’m so grateful, Lord, God.”

  Stiles walked to the podium with an air of confidence. “The power of the Most High God is definitely in this place today.” Stiles repeated himself in a stronger tone. “I said, the power of the Most High God is definitely in this place today.” His lofty frame was supported by his size twelve’s as he rose up on his toes. Like Pastor, his hands stretched out and upward, and his head reared back in reverence to God. “This is a day that the Lord God has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. Aren’t you glad this morning, church?”

  “Amen, Praise God, and Hallelujah” reverberated off the walls of the church building.

  Stiles turned sideways and looked at his father. “Don’t tell me what God can’t do,” he shouted. “Don’t tell me that my God is not a healer. Don’t tell me that there’s anything too hard for my God.”

  Audrey bounced up from her seat. “Thank you, Lord. Thank, you, Lord,” she shouted, with hands tucked behind her back and her head jerking back and forth so hard that her First Lady’s designer hat almost popped off.

  Rena clapped her hands but inside her heart she felt totally different. Hypocrites, she thought when she looked at Audrey and Stiles. Praising God, while all the
time, treating me like I’m the daughter of Judas Iscariot.

  At the close of service, Rena dashed out so she could avoid being detained by any of the members. She didn’t feel like faking the funk. Leaving church, she wasn’t ready to face an empty, gloomy house, not just yet. She drove in the direction of Cordova. I think I’ll do a little window shopping, maybe even treat myself to a new dress. She went to Wolfchase Galleria and parked on the end near Macy’s. For the next hour, she window shopped, and just like she hoped, being away from dissension soothed her.

  Rena walked in the direction of one of the mall restaurants, when she heard her stomach growl. Just two stores from the restaurant, she was pulled by the sight of a sailor-blue square neck knit dress in the window at New York and Company, and stopped to look.

  “Excuse me,” a woman said who was standing next to her. “Don’t I know you? You look awfully familiar.

  Rena studied the woman. “You look familiar too. Do you live in Whitehaven?”

  “No.”

  “Where do you work?” the stranger asked.

  “Benjamin Hooks Library.”

  “I haven’t been there, so that can’t be it. I guess you just have one of those familiar faces,” the lady grinned.

  Rena extended her hand, “I’m Rena Graham,” she said and the two of them shook hands.

  “Graham? Hmmm. You wouldn’t happen to be any kin to Patricia Graham, would you?”

  “Patricia Graham?” Rena crinkled her eyes in thought. “Come to think of it, my husband has a cousin named Patricia.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Stiles and he has a sister too. Her name is Francesca Graham.”

  “That’s it,” the woman’s voice rose in surprise. “I don’t know if you remember, but I used to come with Patricia to some of the Graham’s family functions, although it’s been some time ago. Patricia and I were co-workers and friends. We both worked for the Commercial Appeal. My name is Teary Fullalove. Well, it’s Teary Runsome now,” the young woman blushed.

  “Yea, that’s right. I remember you now. It has been a long time. Didn’t you get married or something and moved out of town?”

  “Yes. I live in Colorado with my husband and kids. I’m here for a few days to finalize some things, and then I’m on my way back, and I can’t wait either,” Teary beamed with happiness.

  “That’s great.” Rena hoped the envy stirring inside of her didn’t show.

  “Thank you. Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

  “You’re close, it’s Rena.” The two ladies walked slowly as they engaged in conversation.

  Listen,” Rena said, and stopped in her tracks. “I was on my way to get something to eat. I don’t know if you know this but Stiles is a Pastor now. He’s visiting some of the sick and shut-in this afternoon, so I thought I would come to the mall for a while.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. I keep forgetting that Stiles is a minister too. I didn’t know he had gotten married.”

  “Yeah, he’s the associate pastor at his father’s church, Holy Rock. Did you know that his father had a stroke?”

  “No, I don’t have a chance to talk to Patricia that much since I moved. She doesn’t know that I’m in Memphis. I planned on taking care of my business as quickly as possible and then flying back home. How is he?”

  “He’s improving. He was at church today, which is a miracle in itself.”

  “God is good like that. He’s definitely worked miracles in my life.”

  “Hey, would you like to join me for lunch? I could use the company,” Rena offered.

  “Sure. I was going to grab something and take it back to the hotel, but I’d love to sit down and eat somewhere.”

  Rena and Teary left the mall and dined at J. Alexander’s. The two ladies, though never really knowing each other personally, enjoyed one another’s company. Other than Francesca, Rena never had any other close women friends.

  It felt good to be able to laugh and talk freely. In some ways, she imagined that many thought she lived a sheltered, reserved life, particularly the women at Holy Rock. Maybe they were right. Talking to Teary was a breath of fresh air.

  They sat at J. Alexander’s for well over an hour and a half before Teary announced she needed to get back to her hotel.

  “Rena, it was nice seeing you again. I had a great time.”

  “The same here, Teary. I hope you have a safe trip.”

  “Thanks. And you be sure to take care of yourself. Oh, let me give you my card.” Teary reached inside her purse and flipped through its contents until she ran across her business card holder. Opening the silver card holder, she pushed a card toward Rena. “Listen, I have to go. I need to go back to the hotel and pack. My flight leaves at seven this. Feel free to give me a call sometime if you’d like to talk.”

  “I’ll do that. Well, take care of yourself, Teary. It was nice seeing you again.”

  The ladies embraced before they parted ways. Teary to her perfect world. Rena to her nightmare.

  32

  Look in the mirror. The face that pins you with its double gaze reveals a chastening secret. Diane Ackerman

  The speech therapist worked with Pastor tirelessly over the months. Although he still slurred his words, Pastor was able to speak clear enough for most people to understand. Physical therapy had been just as good because he no longer relied on a wheelchair, but could ambulate with the aid of a quad cane and a leg brace. Still unable to drive, Audrey, and sometimes Stiles, drove him wherever he needed and wanted to go. Pastor often asked to see Francesca, but was always told the same thing, “No one knew where she was, and no one had heard from her.”

  “I want to see my daughter,” Pastor told Stiles again, when Stiles had taken him for physical therapy.”

  “Pastor, I want to see her too, but how many times do I have to tell you, I don’t know where she is.”

  “Rena?” His voice tremored.

  Stiles looked at his father, somewhat confused. “Rena doesn’t know where she is either, Pastor. I’m sorry.”

  Pastor’s eyes grew large and liquid. “Th..they hurt my Francesca,” Pastor said slowly. The tensing of his jaw betrayed his deep frustration with trying to talk.

  Stiles was caught off guard. Pulling into the driveway, he turned off the engine and met the pained look on Pastor’s face. “But Audrey said Fonda didn’t do anything to Frankie, and Minister Travis, well, he’s not here to defend himself.”

  “Jail,” he said.

  Surprise siphoned the blood from Stiles’s face. “Pastor, where is all of this coming from? You’re going to get yourself all worked up. I don’t know if Minister Travis is in jail, and Fonda, she’s married with children. If these things happened, what can we do about it now? “

  “Ask forgiveness…” his voice broke off in mid-sentence.

  Pastor probably didn’t realize the effect his words had on Stiles. It aroused old fears and suspicion so much that Stiles knew he had to find out the truth. “Father,” he said after much thought. “I’m going to make you a promise right here and right now.”

  Pastor looked at his son with eyes that shimmered with a glimmer of hope.

  “I’m going to do what I can to find out what happened to Frankie.” Stiles reached across the seat for his father’s frail hands. “I don’t know what the outcome will be, but whatever I find out, might tear this family even further apart. And if what she said about mother turns out to be true, we both have a lot to think about.” A heaviness centered in his chest at the thought of what would be revealed.

  “Thank you.” A look of tired sadness passed over Pastor’s face.

  “Come on, let me take you inside,” Stiles said. “It’s been a long day. You need to get some rest and I still have a class to teach this evening.”

  It was early evening when Stiles arrived home from the university. After his lecture, he dismissed the class early. It had been a long, exhausting and eventful day. He sat in the car for a few minutes and thought back to what he pro
mised Pastor, then went inside the house. The appealing aroma of soul food drifted through the air. His stomach growled in response. Rena was not in sight.

  In the kitchen, Stiles saw that there were several pots on the stove. Walking over to where they were, he lifted the top off of one then another. Turnip greens, pot roast with gravy, fresh fried corn, corn bread muffins. What was Rena up to? he wondered.

  “Hello.” He jerked his head around when he heard her voice.

  “Hey,” you startled me. “Something I should know about?” he asked, pointing to the pots.

  “Nope. I had a taste for a good home-cooked meal, that’s all. You’re welcome to eat,” she offered. “That is, if you trust my cooking.” Her words dripped with cynicism.

  Stiles didn’t address her smart comment. “I am hungry.”

  “Help yourself then.” Rena turned and retreated to the den.

  Stiles went to the guest bedroom, took a hot shower, put on his pajama pants and robe then went back to the kitchen to fix himself a plate.

  With a plate of food in his hands, he took off for the den. Rena was in there watching Dancing With the Stars. She had already fixed herself a plate of food and was obviously enjoying the taste of her own cooking.

  Stiles thought of going back in the kitchen to eat alone, but decided against it. No law against being civil. She’s still my wife. Sitting down in the chair across from her, he prayed and then hungrily dove into his food. “This is good.”