“Why didn’t you point to the bedpan, Pastor? It’s right next to you.” Detria got up and went to Pastor’s chest of drawers to get a clean Depend pad and bed covering. The stench was so overbearing when she opened the adult diaper that she had to step back. “This is ridiculous, Pastor. I know you can’t talk, but you can use your hand to point. My goodness, this is too much to have to do.” The more she tried to wash his soiled body, the more Detria’s anger mounted. She finally got him cleaned up, only to have him lose control again. A look of disbelief, mixed with rage and frustration, consumed her to the point where she began to yell and scream at Pastor. She jerked his body and used as much force as she could when she cleaned him for the second time. Before she pulled the cover up, she punched him on his thigh. “Next time, point to the bedpan,” she yelled. “You’re no baby. Remember, you made me lose mine, and I’ll be darned if I treat you like one.”
Detria was physically and emotionally ill after that first time. She’d heard about elderly abuse, but she reasoned that wasn’t what happened with Pastor. She’d merely lost her temper. It was hard to change mess off a full-grown man. Added to that was the fact that Stiles had been totally acting weird. He had dismissed her advances toward him, and they hadn’t made love, even though Dr. Henderson had given Detria the go-ahead to do so. Stiles managed to either be asleep by the time she went to bed or in his study. There were other times when he came home later than he normally did, and the sweet kisses of love and affection and the whatnots had disappeared. How could life change at the drop of a dime? How could her once picture-perfect dream life be turning into a nightmare of sorts? How had she changed from a God-fearing woman to a person who abused a helpless, defenseless human being?
“What are you just standing there for?” Stiles asked, which caused Detria to snap back to reality.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about something.” She proceeded to pull off her robe and climb in the bed next to her husband. She pulled up the covers and then leaned over to kiss Stiles. This time he didn’t move, but Detria believed it was only because she kissed him on his cheek.
“G’night,” he said and turned on his side with his back toward her.
“I love you,” Detria told him.
“Me too,” he answered.
Detria massaged her sore knuckles. It was a cruel reminder of the person she tried so hard not to be.
Chapter 11
We come to love not by finding a perfect person,
but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.
— Sam Keen
Stiles lay in the bed. Normally, before he went to sleep, he and Detria would spend time talking, cuddling, and basking in their love for each other. The kiss she’d given him made him feel somewhat guilty. He turned away from her and silently prayed.
Lord, I need your strength to help me to make things right. I ask that you help me to love my wife the way a husband ought to. I need you to deliver me from the grip of grief that has me neglecting what I am to do toward her.
Stiles turned toward Detria and began to caress her hair. “Detria, I love you,” he told her. Detria remained flat on her back. No words escaped her, and Stiles continued to verbalize what God had placed in his heart to share. “I’m sorry for not being here for you. Losing our baby was hard for me, but what I failed to see is that it was probably even harder for you. I’ve been behaving like a fool.”
He eased closer to Detria. She turned her head toward Stiles and their eyes met. When his warm lips touched hers, a light sound of passion rose from her, and Stiles allowed his love to resurface. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” he whispered into her ear. His hands roamed over her softness. “Please forgive me,” he pleaded.
“There’s nothing to forgive. It was all my fault,” she said.
“Don’t think like that.”
“I can’t help it. I didn’t want to lose our baby.” She began crying. “I wanted our baby so badly.”
“Shhh, I know you did. And none of this is your fault. I’m going to be here for you like I should have been in the beginning.” Before Detria could say anything, Stiles’s lips seized hers once more, and he began to really kiss her. There was no turning back. He was where he needed to be, and where he wanted to be. The sensation of her body took Stiles to new heights as it answered his in return.
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much,” Detria said as they lay in each other’s arms, spent from their lovemaking.
“I’ve missed you too,” Stiles responded. He continued to hold on to her and plant light kisses over her body. They fell asleep in each other’s embrace.
The following morning, Detria and Stiles got up at their usual time. Stiles spent part of his time getting ready for the day ahead by continuing his affection toward Detria. They dressed and went downstairs. The sun hadn’t quite come up all the way.
Detria darted to Pastor’s room. Guilt ate away at her like acid on skin. “Good morning, Pastor,” she said and turned on the light in his room. She stood next to his bed and looked at him. His eyes opened, and Detria saw fear and pain. “Why did you make me do that last night? You know I wouldn’t hurt you for anything in the world, but you just seem to do everything you can to make me angry.”
Pastor groaned, but his eyes did not leave Detria’s face.
“You don’t have to worry. I promise not to hurt you again. Stiles has actually forgiven me. And don’t worry. I didn’t tell him that it was your fault that I lost our child. You should be grateful for that.” Detria walked away and returned with a washbowl filled with warm, soapy water. She washed Pastor’s face with soft strokes. “It’s hard taking care of you every day, Pastor, knowing you caused my miscarriage. But I’m trying. I want to be a good daughter-in-law, and you’ve made it difficult for me, but don’t worry. I’m going to keep praying for God to help me.”
Pastor opened his mouth like he was trying to speak, but only the familiar groans escaped.
Stiles walked in the room. “Good morning, Pastor.” Following his routine, he walked over, took hold of Pastor’s hand, and squeezed it lightly as he leaned forward to kiss him on his forehead. “You know, today is rather special. Not only is it a day that the Lord has made, but it’s the first day of your therapy. Two occupational therapists are coming today. They’ll be here two hours for three days a week. And if you’re thinking about the home health aide, there’s no need to. She’ll still be here every day.” Stiles stood erect. “I think you like her.” Stiles chuckled. He turned to Detria. “Honey, what do you have to say about Pastor and what’s the aide’s name again?”
“Ms. Tammy is the one I think Pastor’s a tad bit sweet on,” Detria continued, joking where Stiles had left off. “The other one is Ms. Edna. I think she’s a little too timid for Pastor.” This time round, Detria giggled.
Stiles wrapped his arm around her waist. The doorbell rang. “That should be Ms. Tammy, so we’re going to get out of here, Pastor.”
“Honey, I’ll get the door. Buh-bye, Pastor.”
Stiles said a morning prayer for his father. When he finished, he turned to leave the room and saw Ms. Tammy standing in the doorway, lifting her bowed head. She must have come while Stiles was praying.
“Good morning, Ms. Tammy.”
“Morning, Pastor Stiles. How’s my favorite patient doing this morning?” she asked as she and Stiles shook hands.
“I think he’s better now.” Stiles turned and winked at Pastor. “Oh, Ms. Tammy, I told Pastor that the occupational therapist will be starting today.” Stiles looked down at his watch. “I believe they’ll be here around ten o’clock. They might call before they come.”
Ms. Tammy waved her hand. “The office already called and told me. Ten is right. You have a good day, Rev. Graham.”
“You too, Ms. Tammy. Bye, Pastor.” Stiles met Detria in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table with a bagel and a glass of orange juice. She had a banana, a bagel, and a cup of hot green tea ready and waiting for Stiles.
/> For Detria, last night had been the answer to her prayers. Stiles had forgiven her. The past weeks had been unbearable. And Pastor hadn’t made it any better. There was just no getting around the fact that he’d been responsible for her loss and for Stiles’s lack of attention. But after spending last night in the arms of her husband, she had her desires met, and she fulfilled his needs. The next thing on Detria’s prayer list was to correct the wrong she’d done by convincing Stiles to allow Pastor to move in with them. It had been the worst decision of her life, and now she was living to regret it every day. There was no getting around it. In the beginning of their marriage, Detria couldn’t have been happier, but progressively things had gotten worse, and she had to find a way to fix it.
Fixing it meant getting Pastor into a long-term care facility where he could have round-the-clock care and be out of her hair. She’d played the Good Samaritan for far too long. Furthermore, she hadn’t banked on Pastor having another stroke. For goodness’ sake, he was young on the age scale, and here he was, having a third stroke. No way was she planning on spending her life wiping some grown man’s butt. Cooking for him and checking on him were one thing, but she had bitten off more than she cared to chew.
“Stiles, I’m on my way to the gym, and then I’m headed to the office, so if you need me, you can reach me on my cell.”
Stiles took a couple of sips of the piping hot green tea. “Ahhh,” he said. “Okay, baby, have a good workout—not that you need to work out.”
“I really don’t, especially after last night. I think we both had a good workout,” she said. Her lips turned upward, and she swayed seductively before she pulled his blue and white striped tie and kissed him. “I should be home no later than four thirty today.”
“I’ll meet you here. We can go to Bible study together. That is, if you plan on going.”
Detria had missed several Bible studies since the miscarriage. She wanted to avoid the pity stares and comments she was sure to get from Holy Rock. She’d already been bombarded with cards and phone calls. She loved the attention, but she didn’t like the reason for it. Now that Stiles had come alive again, Detria felt that maybe her life could finally get back on track.
“Yes, I think I’ll go tonight, so will you let Ms. Tammy know that we’ll need someone to sit with Pastor this evening?”
“Sure thing. Have a good day, baby. I love you,” Stiles told her and walked her to the door.
“Me too,” she answered.
With his cup in one hand, Stiles hugged Detria with the other and watched until she got in the car, opened the garage, and drove out of sight. Stiles remained in the entryway for a few seconds with an indelible smile plastered across his handsome face. “Thank you, God, for answered prayer.”
He returned to the kitchen and completed his breakfast. Before he left the house, he returned upstairs to his study and spent a half hour meditating on the Word of God.
Chapter 12
Be who you are and say what you feel
because those who mind don’t matter
and those who matter don’t mind.
— Dr. Seuss
“How are things on the home front?” Brooke asked Detria. The sisters had talked earlier that morning and decided to meet for lunch. They sat at a table at the East End Grill. Detria picked over a garden salad while Brooke devoured her order of chicken wings and loaded baked potato.
“Actually, you have perfect timing,” Detria replied.
“Perfect timing? Tell me about it,” responded Brooke.
“Well, Stiles and I, we sort of . . .” Detria couldn’t stop grinning.
“Come on, tell me.”
“We made up last night.” Detria wiggled around in her chair.
“See, I told you that the two of you would be all right. Detria, that man loves you. And you have to understand that he was not the only one who suffered a loss. We all did. Now, maybe you think it wasn’t the same magnitude as your grief and pain, but the truth of the matter is, we were all sorry about your miscarriage. And the good news is that now that things seem to be turning around for you and Stiles, this will strengthen your marriage. Anytime you go through a trial or hardship as a couple and come out on the other side still together, sis, I’m telling you, it is a blessing. Do you know how many couples split over something not even as major as this?”
“Yeah, I know. And I’m so thankful that we made it. I love that man so much, Brooke. But I have come to one conclusion,” Detria said.
“And? It is?”
“Pastor needs to be in a long-term care facility. I can’t do it anymore, Brooke. I won’t do it anymore. I mean, he needs round-the-clock care, and at first I thought I could do it, but that was before the miscarriage. If it wasn’t for him, I would still be pregnant.”
“What? Hold up, girl. How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Brooke placed a forkful of the baked potato in her mouth.
“I didn’t tell Stiles or anyone about this before because there was too much going on. But I tried to lift Pastor when he had his stroke. You know I found him in the bathroom with his head busted, and so without thinking, my first instinct was to try to get him up. I felt a strain in my belly and a sharp pain in my lower back, so that’s when I had to give up and leave him on the floor until paramedics arrived. If it wasn’t for him—” Detria felt a knot form in the base of her throat.
“Detria.” Brooke saw the serious look on her sister’s face. She reached across the table and embraced her hand. “Sis, don’t do this to yourself or Pastor. I’m sure if you talk to Dr. Henderson, she’ll tell you that this miscarriage was not your fault or Pastor’s. It takes more than trying to lift someone off the floor, especially someone as lightweight as Pastor is, to cause a miscarriage. Please, don’t carry around that weight.”
“I keep telling myself that. But every time I look at that man now, I can’t help but think about it. You know, what if?”
“Detria, you’ve got to pray. And I’m going to be praying for you, too. The idea of putting Pastor in a long-term home might not be such a bad idea. I know he’s only fifty-eight, but his body isn’t fifty-eight. The man has been through a lot over a short period of time. And the type of care he needs should be done by professionals. So I agree with you on that.”
Detria sighed and then placed some salad into her mouth. While chewing, she said, “You are my favorite sister, you know that?”
“Yeah, rah, rah, rah.” They both started laughing.
Later that evening, Stiles and Detria went to Bible study. Stiles preached from the book of St. John, chapter fourteen. “‘Let not your heart be troubled.’ . . . People, we have to learn how to lean and depend on Jesus. I know there are some difficult days for many of you. That’s life. As soon as you get over one trial, there’s another one waiting for you. As soon as you think everything is about to be good, something else bad comes along. But this life is not one that is free from trouble, people. We are not promised days of ease, without problems and situations. On the contrary, God says that we will endure various trials, but we are to be of good cheer because He has overcome the world. We have no reason to walk around with our heads hung low and our hearts heavy. When we find ourselves in a trying situation, that’s the time to pick up the Word and begin to encourage yourself.”
Bible study ended on a good note. Detria had always enjoyed the manner in which Stiles so easily broke down the Word of God. He had a knack for making it sound so simple. Detria closed her Bible and began to mix and mingle with some of those in attendance who couldn’t wait to give her a hug, ask how she was doing, and tell her how much they had been praying for her.
It was almost eight thirty by the time they arrived home. Detria had made up in her mind that since things were better between her and Stiles, it was time to talk to him about Pastor. The time was even more perfect when they walked inside the house and met Ms. Edna retreating from the laundry room. She looked at both of them and shook her head.
“I don’t know how
to do nothing but come out and say it.” Ms. Edna started talking nonstop. Every now and then her arms glided through the air like she was about to take off from a runway. “That man needs to be in one of those assisted living places. I’m telling you, the care he’s getting here isn’t enough. I been gone a week, had to take some time off work for myself, and I come back to this.” Ms. Edna was much older than Pastor. Her thin frame was no match for her booming voice. She pushed back strands of gray hair that kept falling in her face with each word she spoke. “Something just ain’t right—and I’m not about to get the blame for nothing. I don’t know why no one else saw this. Must not been cleaning him up properly or something for them to miss it. But I tell y’all, you betta do something and do something now. This poor man ain’t been looked after properly. I’m telling you—”
“Hold on, Ms. Edna.” Detria swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s going on? What brought on this outburst?” Stiles asked the aide.
“Didn’t you hear a word I said, young man?” Ms. Edna said.
“Yes, ma’am, but—”
“But nothing,” she interjected. “I’ll tell you what brought this what you call outburst. I just had to change your father’s soiled clothing three times. And I’m not talking about just urine. And come here. Let me show you what I’m really worried about.” She used her forefinger as a leader, and they followed her. “Look at this. I tell you, it’s a crying shame,” she said. “Some folks need to get a taste of their own medicine. Going around taking advantage of the sick. It ain’t right.” She pulled the cover back from Pastor.
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