Felicia Denise's Blog, page 89

“Free, A Novella Part V”

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“Free, A Novella”

by Felicia Denise

Part V

She would miss this room.

Where the pantry was Lenore Porter’s anchor as a businesswoman, the family room was her fortress for love. Regardless of what negativity was going on in her life, it ceased to exist when she entered this room. Here is where she was a steadfast mother to her boys, always putting them first. There was no question they couldn’t ask and no plans they couldn’t make. Discussions on friendship, school and grades were commonplace. Sleepovers, weekend getaways and family birthday parties had been planned here with much detail. As the Porter boys got older, their home was always the favorite hangout, and go-to spot after sporting events…owed in part to Lennie’s loving nature and talent in the kitchen.

After the revelations of Aunt Di’s letter, Lennie had felt uneasy around her parents, knowing how they felt about her marriage to Ranard. Avoiding the conversation for nearly a week and missing her parents terribly, Lennie invited them over for an early dinner. Afterward, while sitting in the family room, Burt and Linda Kelimore attempted to apologize to their daughter for not believing in her marriage.

Patting his stomach, Burt beamed. “That was an amazing dinner, Lenore, my compliments to the chef! Your dinner choices are always spot on! I’ve been begging your mother for lamb chops for over a month.”

Linda waved him off while speaking to her daughter. “Number one, he hasn’t mentioned lamb chops since Christmas; and number two, he’s never begged me for anything.”

“I most certainly have!”

Lennie didn’t miss the wicked smirk on her father’s face and threw her hands up. “TMI! TMI! Knock it off you two! I may be an adult, but no way am I old enough for this conversation with my parents!”

Burt snickered while leaning back on the sofa, wrapping an arm around his wife. “All right, all right. But we have no taboo or off-limits topics, Lenore. You know you can still come to us anytime you want or need to talk.”

“I know that, daddy. I’ve always known that.”

Linda Kelimore couldn’t contain her smile. “Good, dear. We never want you to feel there’s anything you cannot discuss with us.” Her smile faded. Linda glanced at her husband, then back at Lennie. “Honey, we’re sorry if we ever made you feel-”

Throwing up both her hands, Lennie left her seat and knelt in front of her parents. “Stop right there.” She enfolded one of her hands with Linda’s and rested the other on her father’s knee. “I have the most amazing parents on the planet.  You both have always been there for me and supported me even when you didn’t agree with me. I know I can be single-minded and stubborn, but that’s partly your fault. You raised me to be strong and focused…to make decisions following my first mind, and to be prepared for the consequences.”

Linda quickly nodded in agreement. “Yes, we did…and I blame your father.”

Burt Kelimore allowed his jaw to drop open, feigning offense. “You blame me? And just what are you blaming me for, MRS. Kelimore?”

Lennie ducked her head to hide her smile.

“You are the one who put all those grand ideas in her head about following her heart and her dreams. Never letting anyone deter her from her goals. The only limits she had were the ones she put on herself.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Linda leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek. “Not at all. You were absolutely right.”

“Did you just say I was right about something?”

Swatting him on the arm, Linda addressed her daughter. “I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you are, sweetheart. You are a fantastic mother, a shrewd business woman, and a loving daughter.”

“Just wish some of you had rubbed off on to those two sisters of yours,” Burt piped in.

“Burt! Hush! There’s nothing wrong with Elaine and Penny!”

He raised an eyebrow with a dubious look. Lennie couldn’t hold her laughter in any longer. Falling sideways from her knees to her butt, Lennie shook with laughter and said a silent prayer for the two people who could always bring a smile to her face. Exhaling heavily, Lennie tried to form a serious look.

“Mom, daddy…listen. I’m trying to say you don’t owe me an apology for anything. I should be apologizing to you.”

“Oh, Lenore! Whatever for?”

“For not having the same trust in you as you both have in me. I should have explained…certain things to you from the very beginning about Ranard and me.”

 

Exchanging worried glances, Burt and Linda sat forward on the sofa. Barely above a whisper, Linda was the first to speak.

“What things, sweetie?”

Crossing her legs, Lennie took a deep breath and told them…everything. About Ranard’s mother dying in childbirth, and Gilbert Porter having nothing but contempt for his youngest son ever since. About the constant bullying from his brothers; Ranard’s low self-esteem; and Lennie taking it upon herself to ‘heal’ Ranard and build him up. She stopped short of telling her parents about how Ranard was becoming his father and his constant verbal attacks upon her. Burt and Linda sat in stunned silence.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us? I know we could have helped in some small way.” The pain in her mother’s voice caused Lennie’s chest to tighten.

“Ranard didn’t want you to know. He felt you would feel he wasn’t worthy of me. And, honestly Mom…I thought if I supported him mentally and emotionally, and loved him enough…things would be okay.” Seeing the hardness in Burt’s face, Lennie stood and retrieved two glasses of wine from the wet bar near the window. Handing the glasses to her parents, she folded her arms and ducked her head sheepishly. “Obviously, I was off base in my assumptions. Our marriage is far from perfect.” Exasperated, Lennie dragged her hands through her hair. “Who am I kidding? Our marriage is even far from good.”

Lennie poured a glass of wine for herself and sat next to Linda. “I know you and Auntie Di had concerns about me. She may be gone, but I know you both still have issues with,” Lennie waved her hand around the room. “All this. Ranard and I are talking more now, and I believe I’ve almost convinced him to attend marriage counseling with me.

Burt bristled, the hard set of his jaws nearly pulsing. “Almost convinced? What does that mean? Does the man want to save his marriage or not?”

“It’s not that easy, daddy.”

“Well, why-”

“Burt!” Linda interrupted him. “I’m pretty sure it took a lot for Lennie to share this with us. Let’s not interrogate our daughter, okay?”

“It’s okay, mom.” Pausing briefly, Lennie met her father’s questioning gaze. “When he was little, Ranard’s dad put him into some sort of tough love counseling. He had to admit his guilt for his mother’s death, and accept the consequences of his actions. He had to stand in corners for hours on end, sit in tubs of ice cold water, sleep on cold floors, and go without food for a day. Daddy, he was only seven years old. His memories of it still haunt him. That’s why he shuts down at the mere mention of counseling.”

“God in heaven! Who does that to anyone, let alone a child? That’s not therapy, it’s torture! How could Gilbert allow it?” Anger radiated off Burt Kelimore, while Linda tried to calm him down.

“I know, daddy. I’ve never understood my father-in-law. The best I can come up with is losing his wife warped his mind somehow. How else could he blame Ranard and expect him to admit guilt for something he had no control over? I would think if nothing else, he would have raised Ranard with even more love and affection in her memory.”

They all sat quietly for a few minutes, sipping their wine, and trying to understand. Burt finally stood and began to pace in front of his family.

“I cannot imagine what life was like for Ranard, Lenore, and I’ll never understand how some parents do not cherish and protect the bonds they have with their children.” Burt stopped his pacing in front of Lennie. “But like your mother said, we are here for you, and will try to do whatever you need us to do. You’ll never know how sorry I am for what Ranard’s been through, but you and our grandsons are our first concern. I know you will try to work things out with your husband because it’s the right things to do. But honey, please do not sacrifice yourself for a man you may or may not be able to reach.”

Lennie stood and pulled her father into a tight embrace. “I won’t, daddy, I promise.” Kissing him on the cheek, Lennie reached back and pulled her mom from the sofa and into their group hug. With an arm around each of her parents, Lennie looked from one to the other. “But you know I must try, right?”

Linda Kelimore palmed her daughter’s cheek. “You wouldn’t be our Lennie if you didn’t.” Fighting back tears, Lennie was about to respond, but Burt spoke up first.

“Didn’t you say something about peach cobbler and homemade vanilla bean ice cream?” Lennie laughed aloud as Linda shook her head, lips pursed.

“You’re awful!”

“I can’t help it if our daughter is a dynamo in the kitchen! I have to get it while the getting is good. Lord knows when we get home, you’ll be giving me rice cakes with Greek yogurt and something with quinoa in it. And what the hell is quinoa anyway?”

Still laughing, Lennie enjoyed their usual banter as she led her parents back to the kitchen.

***

Remembering that evening from so long ago, Lennie Porter smiled to herself as she crossed the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She had been blessed with amazing parents. They were always true to their word. Even though their conversation from that evening was never mentioned again, Burt and Linda had stood by her through it all without any disparaging remarks or judgment.

Lennie’s smile quickly turned into a full grin when she stopped in front of the window seat. Labeled the ‘Meeting Place’ by the Porter boys, the window seat was where all the serious family discussions had taken place. The large three-section Sunrise Bay window seat had more than enough room for four. However, most of the time only two family members would occupy the space – either Lennie and one of her sons, or two of the boys. Duncan and Myron had many long discussions stretched out on the ultra-thick cushions which covered the bench. The window overlooked a grassy, shaded area in the back yard which the Porter boys landscaped themselves.

Taking a seat on the bench, Lennie looked out at the last handiwork done by her boys before Duncan deployed for the second time nearly two years ago. Perennials in shades of pink and purple circled the Sugar Maple tree and bordered the brick retaining wall. The buds were just beginning to open and by the time the new homeowners arrived next week, the backyard would be filled with vibrant colors and scents.

A single tear made it down Lennie’s cheek before she swiped it away. After her breast cancer scare, Duncan, Myron and RJ became staunch supporters of breast cancer awareness. They all took part in a variety of sporting events supporting outreach and free mammograms for low-income women. After Lennie’s pathology report came back with no signs of cancer or precancerous cells, her three young men openly cried.

 

“Hey Porter Patrol, I’m going to be fine. Dr. Chaney said no cancer, remember?”

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Myron took her hand. “We’re just happy, mom. We have no clue what we would do without you.”

Reaching out with her other hand, Lennie froze and winced at the pain.

“Hey, hey! Take it easy, mom.” Duncan was on the other side of her bed in a heartbeat.

Leaning back against the pillows, Lennie exhaled roughly. “Who knew a few little stitches could hurt so much?”

“Dr. Chaney assured us the tenderness would be gone in a few days, and your biggest problem would be the itching as the wound site heals.”

“Guess that gives me something to look forward to.”

“Mom, c’mon.” Myron squeezed her hand. “Just take these few days to rest. Let us take care of you.”

“You’re right, sweetie. I’m just a bad patient. But Dr. Chaney did say I could go home tomorrow morning – guess I’m just anxious to get back into my routine.”

“Why? Does that change how serious this situation is?” All eyes turned to RJ standing at the foot of the bed. “You’re acting like you were here for the flu or something.” The pain in his eyes belied the harshness of his tone.

“RJ? Man, take it down a thousand. You okay? Talk to me.” Myron stood and stepped towards his younger brother, but RJ backed away.

“Breast cancer…kills. I don’t think we’re taking this seriously enough.”

“But honey, I’m fine. Our lives won’t change. We’ll continue on like always.”

“I know, mom, and you’ll never know how grateful I am for that.” The obvious turmoil on his face was confusing to his family. “Remember Peter Gleason from the baseball team? His grandma died from breast cancer when we were in sixth grade. When we were juniors, his mom had to have a breast removed. Now she’s undergoing treatment again for the other breast.” RJ scrubbed his hand over his face. “And his sister just found a lump in her breast.”

Duncan’s eye widened. “Cynthia? She’s my age. Are you kidding me?” He shared a quick glance with Myron, and they both nodded. “That’s why you’ve been so keyed up. Even after Dr. Chaney gave us the good news. Myron and I just chalked it up to more in-depth things you were learning in med school.”

“I guess I was so intent on hearing a different outcome-”

“You’re right.” Her boys watched her as Lennie slowly sat up and reached out to RJ. “Even with a positive outcome, this is still a serious situation. The doctor told me about lumps reappearing or new ones showing up in other spots. When I go in for my post-op check next week, I’ll be set up for regular labs and screenings.”

RJ visibly relaxed.

“I’m aware of the situation I’m in. I just didn’t want to burden my boys with it. You’re all at such great places in your young lives, and the sky’s the limit for your futures. I did not want negativity about my health scare impacting any of your decisions.”

Putting his hand on RJ’s shoulder, Duncan pulled Myron closer. “Mom, we’re at these great places in our lives because you busted your butt keeping negativity away from us. Nothing…and no one…came before us. We were still kids when we realized you’d do anything for us. Of course, you are a factor in every decision we make, and you always will be.”

Tears instantly sprang to her eyes as Lennie ignored Duncan’s obvious reference to their father.

“I am so proud of my boys.”

“We know, mom, and I’m sure big brother wasn’t trying to make you cry.” Myron leaned over and kissed her cheek. His brothers then did the same. “We should take off now and let you get some real rest.”

“Good idea!” Duncan herded his brothers towards the door. “We’ll be back bright and early in the morning to bust you out of here, Mom!” With that, her Porter Patrol disappeared down the hallway.

Lowering the head of her bed, Lennie stretched out and slowly adjusted the pillow under her side. She knew her oldest son was up to something. However, before she could give it more thought, Lennie drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

***

Lennie was halfway through her breakfast – after mastering using her left hand to eat – when she heard her boys making their way to her room. They sprang into the room, panting as though they’d just finished a race. The young men wore unusually bright smiles, and Lennie did not miss the small smudges of dirt on their clothing.

After quick kisses, they each grabbed a seat and pulled out sandwiches from Lennie’s favorite deli.

“How in the world did you get Mira to sell you those during breakfast hours?”

RJ grinned. “That was easy. We told her you were in the hospital and craving one of her special sandwiches!”

“Seriously? You use me as your excuse, and you’re just going to eat those in front of me?”

“Mom! We’re not heathens!” Duncan pulled another sandwich from his bag. “Reuben on rye/sourdough blend with extra sauerkraut.”

It was Lennie’s turn to grin. She slid the plate of powdered eggs aside and watched Duncan unwrap her sandwich.

The family chatted amiably as they ate. Nurses were in and out of the room, and by the time the sandwiches were gone, Lennie’s discharge was complete. While a nurse helped her dress in the private bathroom, her boys packed her bag, and Myron left to pull Lennie’s SUV – the only family vehicle big enough for all of them – around to the patient discharge doors.

Only a few minutes later, a young patient care aide wheeled Lennie through the double doors, stopping curbside. Duncan and RJ huddled around Lennie as she stood.

“Gentlemen, I got this, okay? I’ll probably need someone to close the door for me, but getting in is no problem.” Moving before she finished speaking, Lennie hopped up in the front seat. Her boys looked at each other frowning as the young aide backed the wheelchair away from the vehicle and returned inside…laughing.

Closing her door, RJ smirked. “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you mom?”

Lennie just grinned. Duncan and RJ got comfortable in the back seat, exchanging looks with Myron. He turned around to see his mother staring at him.

“What are you waiting for? Home, James!”

His brothers laughed in the back seat. Myron shook his head. “We are in so much trouble.”

Caught off guard by a wave of fatigue, Lennie relaxed back in her seat and closed her eyes, enjoying the laughter and banter of her three young men.

***

Waking to the sound of a car door closing, Lennie opened her eyes, trying to get her bearings. Duncan and Myron were standing near the front of the vehicle while RJ opened her door.

“We’re home? Oh, my god, I slept the whole way?”

RJ held on to her hand as though his mother was fragile. Lennie slipped down from the seat, suddenly aware of the brightness of the morning.

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“We were enjoying the peace and quiet, mom. Well, except for the times you snored.” Duncan quipped.

“Ha, ha, Mr. Funny Man.” Lennie glared at him as she rounded the vehicle, heading for the walkway to the front door.

“Mom? Before you head inside, we want to show you something.” Duncan was backing towards the open garage bay.

Looking at each of their faces, Lennie nodded and wordlessly followed her firstborn through the garage. Myron and RJ fell into step behind her. When they reached the corner door which led to the backyard, Duncan turned and reached out his hand.

“You have to close your eyes.”

Lennie smirked, but took her son’s hand, closed her eyes, and allowed him to guide her through the door. They had only taken a few steps when he stopped.

“Okay, mom. Open your eyes.”

Lennie opened her eyes, looking in Duncan’s direction, but quickly followed his gaze.

Gasping, Lennie clutched her chest with one hand as she walked deeper into the back yard. The area around the Sugar Maple tree which had been empty when she left for the hospital, now exploded with color. There were flowers everywhere. Exotic blossoms of pinks, lavenders, and purples, obviously strategically placed, stretched proudly towards the morning sun. Tears streamed down her face as Lennie turned to face her boys. Overcome with emotion and unable to speak, she looked at each of them with a questioning glance.

Silently, RJ approached his mom, turning her back towards the tree and leading her to the other side.

She saw the banner immediately.

“Lennie’s Love Garden.”

RJ caught his mother effortlessly as her knees weakened. Audible sobs racked Lennie’s body. She held on firmly to RJ with her left hand, her right hand still clutched to her chest.

Myron walked over and knelt by the banner. “We wanted to do something special for you, mom, to let you know how grateful we are to have you for our mom, and that all your tests came back negative.” He slowly waved his hand over the floral array. “This was all Duncan’s idea.”

Lennie turned to her oldest son, and he was already at her side, kissing her on the temple.

“These are perennials. With a little weeding and a bit of pruning, they’ll bloom indefinitely.” He pointed out different flowers. “The large bell-shaped flowers are Agapanthus. These are Agastaches, and these small bell-shaped blooms are Campanulas.”

Regaining her composure, Lennie found her voice. “This explains the dirt smudges on your clothes. You all worked through the night, didn’t you?” She quickly glanced at RJ and Myron – who winked – then returned her gaze to Duncan. “And when did you become such an authority on flowers? Are the Marines including that in training now?”

RJ and Myron laughed aloud, but Duncan ducked his head sheepishly.

“Only when you’re late to PT two mornings in a row and your C.O.’s wife wants a flower garden dug.”

“Oh, Duncan…no!” Laughter overtook Lennie almost as fast as her tears had.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. She was a nice lady and explained everything to me while we worked. When she talked about perennials, I immediately thought of you.”

“Of me?” Lennie frowned. “How so?”

“Perennials are sturdy and seem to thrive in adverse conditions. Some flower bulbs need to be dug up and stored during winter. But, perennials’ roots run deep. They grab hold of the earth and pull nutrients from it. They learn to get by with less, but they still sustain themselves. As the weather warms up, perennials ‘relax’ and let their buds grow until their blossoms burst forth in the warmth of the sun. Perennials are some of the most beautiful flowers you’ll ever see.”

Duncan swiped his mother’s cheek, wiping away her fresh tears. “You’re a perennial, mom. Strong, determined. Through the worst of times, you held fast. You never let anything or anyone blur your focus. Not even our father. You gave us a great home life; supported us in all our extra-curricular activities and ran a successful business. You were an amazing mom…still are. We love you, mom.”

Planting another kiss on her temple, Duncan stepped aside as Myron kissed Lennie on the cheek. “Yeah. We love you, mom.”

Still holding her left hand, RJ raised it to his lips. “You’re the best, mom. We love you.”

RJ felt her weight shift again, and quickly slipped his arm around her. Myron did the same from Lennie’s other side, careful not to hold her too tightly. Duncan came up behind them and grabbed hold of each of his brothers, and they stood there, silently holding each other up.

***

Still looking out the bay windows, Lenore Porter smiled at her memories. She was a blessed woman, and she knew it. The more love she gave her boys, the more they gave back. She had braced herself for all sorts of conflict and resentment during their teen years. All the things other parents told her to expect. None of it ever appeared. Not having Ranard take an interest in their lives, and then not having him around at all made them stronger and more supportive of each other.

Most of the time, her husband didn’t notice or chose to ignore the regular family activities that took place without him. With all the memories flooding Lennie’s mind during her last walk through her home, she couldn’t block the one she wanted to remember least. The one time Ranard decided to insert himself into his family’s life.

Lennie couldn’t block the one memory that changed their lives…and nearly cost a life.

Part IV     Part VI

 

©Felicia Denise, 2016

~ Sunday Quote ~

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“I want to do something splendid… Something heroic or wonderful that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead… I think I shall write books.”

― Louisa May Alcott

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~ Sunday Quote ~

Reading Goal #Quote

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Email the daily item to feliciadenisewrites@gmail.com. A winner will be drawn from all correct responses and posted with the next day’s clue, and in my December newsletter. (Random winner will be drawn using WheelDecide.)


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~ Sunday Quote ~

Felicia Denise and the “12 Days of Christmas!”

Tis the season of giving, and I’m giving away a $5 Amazon gift card OR $5 in PayPal cash EVERY DAY between December 5th – 15th! There are TWO WAYS TO WIN!

Follow me on Twitter (@MsFelicia) and Instagram (@fle_d). (I do follow back!)


Watch for the daily post with a holiday-related item *Highlighted*. Item will be posted between 9 AM – 3 PM EST from ONE of the accounts. Even if you don’t participate in the daily drawing – KEEP TRACK OF ALL POSTED ITEMS!


Email that clue to feliciadenisewrites@gmail.com. A winner will be drawn from all correct responses and posted with the next day’s clue, and in my December newsletter. (Random winner will be drawn using WheelDecide.)


AFTER the eleventh clue is posted on December 15th, send me an email with a list of ALL ELEVEN CLUES! A random winner will be drawn from ALL CORRECT responses and receive a $25 Amazon gift card OR $25 in PayPal cash!

 

It’s just that simple!

Watch for the first item to be posted on Monday, December 5th!

“Free, A Novella, Part IV”

“Free, A Novella”

by Felicia Denise

Part IV

A sudden car horn blast from down the block shook Lennie from her memories of long ago. Leaving the living room, she wandered into the kitchen where she had prepared thousands of meals. She ran her hand across the marble counter-top that had been part of her total home makeover after she filed her divorce papers.

After reeling from her aunt’s letter all those years ago, Lennie had chosen not to tell Ranard about her inheritance. Instead, she worked harder at getting close to Ranard again, and solidifying their marriage. Once they were on solid ground as a family, Lennie had planned to not only tell Ranard about their good fortune, but share it with him…allowing him to indulge in more of his dreams.

It wasn’t meant to be.

The rekindling of the Porter marriage only lasted long enough to produce Ranard Nelson Porter, Jr – RJ. Even before the birth of the youngest Porter son, his parents were again at odds. Ranard was more verbally abusive to his wife, and Lennie was running low on patience. Her husband had taken to showing up at home in time enough to shower, dress and leave again each morning. Tempted to change all the door locks, Lenore Porter decided to bide her time…waiting for the right time to end her marriage.

Instead, Lennie poured herself into her children, and her business. As the Porter boys grew, they began to understand their family situation was not normal. They saw their friends’ fathers bring them to school and pick them up; take them to the park; cheer them on at sporting events…and take them out to eat afterwards. Making a concerted effort not to paint Ranard in a negative light to his sons, Lennie always explained how busy their father was and how important his job was. It wasn’t that Lennie was trying to build Ranard up in their children’s eyes, but she didn’t want Duncan, Myron, and RJ to wear her bitterness and become cynical about love and family even before they became men. She knew in time, the boys would form their own opinions about their relationships with their father – or lack of one – just as Ranard had with Gilbert Porter.

As her boys grew, so did “Always…From Scratch”.  Lennie’s fresh sandwiches had been a hit from the start, but adding vegan and vegetarian items to the menu gave her an advantage over the other lunch caterers, and made her even more popular. By the time, RJ was ready for preschool, Lennie had stopped using her SUV for deliveries and had purchased a commercial van with a service window.

Walking into her former pantry, Lennie turned in a circle, smiling faintly. This was probably her favorite room. Her days had begun and ended in this room most days with Lennie pulling out necessary ingredients and slicing and dicing sandwich fillings even before she woke the boys for school. She glanced at the walk-in freezer in the corner that had replaced the usually overloaded upright fridge in year seven of her business and shook her head. It was a full year after the freezer had been installed before Ranard even noticed. He railed at her for overspending on such a luxury and accused her of taking out a business loan in his name. Lennie had calmly told him the freezer was paid for…in cash…the day before it was installed, and walked out of the room. Of course, he followed, insisting she was lying because there was no way she could sell enough sandwiches from her “little business” to pay for anything.

Lennie never responded to Ranard’s accusations and rants. In fact, she didn’t speak to him again until three days later – after she had filed for legal separation and had him served.

The “Ranard” who approached Lennie that same evening was the opposite of the man who’d verbally assaulted his wife over a new freezer.

“Lennie, I went overboard about the freezer and said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. But a legal separation, Lennie? Isn’t that overreacting a bit?”

Pinning him with the same perturbed look she gave her boys when they misbehaved, Lennie also used her ‘mom-voice’. “Ranard, do you seriously believe I want a legal separation because of a freezer?” She gave him no time to respond. “I want it because I’m tired of being a single parent; because I’m tired of waiting and hoping and praying that you’ll become an active participant in this family…and this marriage; because I’m tired of being your target every time something doesn’t go your way; but most of all, Ranard, I want it because there is no love between us, and I don’t believe there ever was. There will be a divorce too, Ranard. I’m just not ready to put the boys through that yet. However, this playing house needs to end.”

Dumbfounded, Ranard looked lost, searching for the right words to say to his wife. Lennie didn’t wait, turning quickly, and heading for the stairs. He suddenly sputtered, “I do love you, Lennie. It’s just all the pressure of dealing with my fa-…”

Lennie whirled around and cut him off as anger flared in her eyes. “No! No! You do not get to play the Gilbert Porter-card! This doesn’t have a damn thing to do with your father! This is about you, Ranard! You! And the decisions…the choices YOU make. The boys and I don’t exist for you unless you need to trot us out for one of your happily-married-family-man events. You spend money faster than you can make it. And the women! Do you really believe I don’t know about the women? ALL of them?”

Ranard threw up his hands to stop her. “I wouldn’t have needed to find love and comfort in other women if I had it at home.”

Shaking with rage, Lennie slowly walked towards her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Ranard? Poor Ranard Porter. His mother died bringing him into the world, and his father has hated him ever since. Poor Ranard Porter. Shunned by his father and berated by his older brothers. Poor Ranard grows up unloved, with low self-esteem.” She stopped mere inches away from him. “Is that the story you told them all, Ranard? Is that how you pulled them in and played on their sympathies? Or were they just basic immoral cows who thought they were putting one over on me…the poor, stupid wife?”

“You’re out of control, Lennie! Stop talking like that!” He took a step back.

Lennie moved with him, continuing her tirade. “No, Ranard. For the first time in ten years, I’m in total control, and this”, she motioned between them, “this is over. Good luck explaining it to Daddy!” Turning abruptly, Lennie strode from the room, Ranard calling out behind her.

“I’ll never give you a legal separation or divorce, Lennie. I’ll never sign these papers! Never!”

Without slowing down or turning around, she responded, “Yes, you will. Eventually…you will.”

Ranard stood firm…for less than four months. His attorney’s fees were growing, and he couldn’t live the lifestyle he wanted and fight Lennie. Ranard had attempted to keep the house for himself, and Lennie was more than ready for that battle.

“How soon do you think you and the boys will be moving, Lenore?” Not even looking in his direction, Lennie responded almost flippantly.

“I’m not moving my boys, Ranard.” His smirk was nearly hostile.

“Seriously, Lenore? You actually believe I’ll allow you to keep my dream home? You think I’ll just scurry away with my tail between my legs because it’s what you want? You’re nuts.” He strode to the bar with far too much swagger in his steps. After pouring himself a double shot of Scotch, Ranard turned to find his wife facing him, arms folded across her chest. “Oh, please don’t start with the tears, Lenore. They won’t work on me.” Lennie slowly approached her husband, her steps punctuating each word.

“What kind of man values his dream home over his children? What kind of man values his dream home over the woman who tried to loved him and spent their entire life together trying to help him be successful?” She stopped in front of Ranard. “What kind of man presents himself as a dedicated family man to the world, all the while living a lie?” Lennie uncrossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “That man…isn’t a man at all, Ranard. He’s a spoiled little boy who’s used to getting his way. “

Lennie must have hit a nerve with her ‘spoiled little boy’ comment, because Ranard was packed and moved the next day. Personally, Lennie always felt Ranard was secretly glad to be from under their huge mortgage payment. While she had made full financial disclosure to her attorney, he informed her Ranard’s legal team never asked for it. He said it rarely happened, but was not unheard of if the complaining party requested no support of any kind.

Her parents didn’t understand at first why Lennie had kept the house she never liked or wanted. They saw her separation as a way of unburdening herself of the past, and making a fresh start for her boys. They also hoped she would quickly make the separation permanent. But Lennie couldn’t be dissuaded. Duncan, Myron, and RJ had gone from babies to men in this house, and there was no way Lennie could just walk away from those memories. Her role as a wife may not have lasted, but Lenore Porter had excelled in the role of mother. She stayed in the house Burt Kelimore usually referred to as ‘the tomb’, and redecorated from top to bottom. Ranard’s showplace was gone, and the house had finally become a home.

Leaving the pantry, Lennie walked through the formal dining room that had been used more for homework and science experiments that it was meals. She and the boys had preferred eating together at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, or the dining area in the family room. This dining room…it was pure Ranard Porter. Haughty and cold.

Crossing the hallway, Lennie stood at the double entrance doors of the family room, and it had been a family room in the truest sense. Countless blanket forts were built and sleepovers shared. Her boys had gone from watching “Sesame Street” to “The Wire” in this room. Kisses had been stolen from girls who supposedly had come over to ‘study’ with one of the boys.

Lennie closed her eyes as if hearing the voices of a thousand conversations over the years. But one conversation stood out, louder and angrier than all the rest. Remembering the pain the voice also held, Lennie felt the sting of tears.

It had been the one conversation she knew could happen, but had hoped never would.

 

Part III       Part V

©Felicia Denise, 2016