Broken Together Page 6

  “You sure about that?”

  “That’s what I said.” Tracey directed her attention to the doctor in front of her. “Hello. My father is under your care?”

  “Yes he is. I’m Dr. Srinivasa. Good to meet you.”

  “Good to meet you, too.” Tracey got straight to the point. “What exactly happened to him?”

  As the doctor proceeded to launch into the definition of the transient ischemic attack and what it would mean as far as her father’s future health was concerned, Tracey listened closely, but her heart fluttered as she thought of Brian. This was not fair. Not fair at all. Her dad needed her to be there for him. Her feelings were torn now. One part of her wanted to stay with her father, and the other wanted to dash out of the hospital, jump in the car, and search for her husband.

  Dr. Srinivasa finished his talk with, “Are you going to assist with your father’s care?”

  “Uh … yes, definitely.” Tracey stammered.

  “He will need to follow up with a neurologist. His appointment will be scheduled before his discharge tomorrow.”

  When the doctor headed into the room to take a look at her dad, Tracey stayed in the hallway. Jamal shot her a puzzled look. “Go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Jamal shook his head as he went inside, while Tracey whipped her phone back out.

  She dialed Brian’s on call phone, leaving a 911 message, then leaned on the wall and waited. It took only a minute before he called her back.

  “Brian,” Tracey said flatly.

  “Tracey, you know this phone is for emergencies only. Why didn’t you call my personal phone?”

  “I did. You didn’t answer it.”

  “I must not have heard it.”

  She ignored that statement and pressed on. “My dad had a mini-stroke. I’m over here at Temple Hospital with Jamal visiting him. He’s under observation.”

  “No way! When did all this happen?”

  “He woke up this morning having a hard time talking and couldn’t see straight. Uncle Ray called an ambulance and they rushed him here.”

  “How is he?”

  “Right now he’s resting. He sounds normal, but we don’t know all the damage yet. He’ll be released tomorrow and has to see a specialist.”

  “They’ve done all the necessary scans?” Brian asked.

  Tracey sighed. “I don’t know. His doctor came down the hallway a few minutes ago. I’m about to go find all that out. Look, I need to spend some time here so I need you to make sure the kids are squared away of this afternoon. Call and make sure Ty goes to pick up Brianna from Jayda’s after school. And when you get home, let them know about their Pop-pop. Oh, and see what they want for dinner tonight.”

  “Tracey, that’s your job.”

  Tracey pursed her lips. She’d let that comment slide. She clutched the phone tight in her fist and swallowed hard. “Yes. And today it’s yours.”

  “Tracey.” Brian said, his voice dripping with displeasure.

  “My dad had a mini-stroke. A stroke! I need you to see about our children this evening.”

  She paused to see if he would offer a lie about working. He didn’t.

  “See you at home later,” his voice trailed off.

  Tracey clicked off then squeezed her eyes shut tight and counted backwards from a hundred. She got to ninety before she stopped and took a deep breath. She hadn’t meant to make Brian take over the house and kids that afternoon, but she decided to use the one thing that could keep him from going out to be with Lisette. That’s if he wasn’t with her already.

  Jamal peeked his head out of the room door. “Will you get in here?”

  Tracey turned and put her hand on the room door. “I had to take care of something important.”

  “Well, is it taken care of?”

  “For now,” Tracey sighed.

  8

  “Sister Jones, is somebody dead?” Pastor David Downes’s deep southern drawl stretched the words as far as they could go, looking like he wanted to make Tracey smile.

  “No.” Tracey frowned, far from ready to laugh. Instead, she sat stiff in a chair in her pastor’s super clean office, trying to figure out how to ask for advice for her marriage while revealing as little as possible about the situation.

  “Is someone sick or critical?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Excellent. Everything else can be worked out. Amen?” He gave a warm smile. “Let’s pray, and then put your worries on pause and tell me what’s going on. Heavenly Father, we adore you and give you all the glory. We bless your name Lord, for you are worthy to be praised. As we talk together, may your presence be known. Guide our thoughts and our words. Please provide comfort and hope for Sister Jones at this time. We love and honor you Lord. Thank you Lord. In Jesus Christ name we do pray. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Tracey said.

  Pastor Downes ran a hand over his bald head as he reclined in his chair. “I’m here to help. Please share what’s on your mind.”

  “Well,” Tracey cleared her throat, then continued. “There’s a situation in my marriage right now. I confronted it and I thought everything would die down, but … ” She paused. She might as well put it out there. “Brian is cheating on me.”

  Pastor Downes raised a bushy eyebrow. “He’s admitted this to you?”

  “Yes and no.” She directed her gaze to the top of the pastor’s desk. “I’ve asked him about his relationship with a nurse at his practice. He said they’re only friends. I don’t believe him.” She lifted her eyes to meet the pastor’s, and repeated herself. “I don’t believe him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He and this woman, they call and text each other a lot. So, I confronted him about their conversations, but then last week I caught him rearranging his schedule and taking time off without telling me, on a day when the nurse was also away from the office. Pastor, I was so mad! I shut down for a couple of days to keep the peace. There’s something going on, but I can’t get to the full truth with him.”

  “Do you know the woman?”

  “I met her once,” Tracey said, quickly adding, “and I don’t care to know her.”

  “Sister Jones, has your husband known her for a long time?”

  “Not very long. About five months I think. That’s how long she’s been working at the practice.”

  “I see. Are you concerned about anything else you experienced with your husband?”

  The skin on Tracey’s face burned as she recalled Brian’s words, which she was about to repeat. “He admitted to me he’s grown close to her. He likes her. He enjoyed his conversations with her, and I’m not totally convinced he didn’t enjoy anything else with her.”

  Pastor Downes leaned in, understanding coloring his face. “You’re nervous because there could be a threat to your marriage. I know you, so I know you’ve prayed about your marriage. But you think you may need to do something more. Is that correct?”

  “Exactly.”

  “All right. Wait just a minute.” Pastor Downes stood up and shuffled out of the office. In less than a minute he returned with a small book. He passed it to her before he settled behind his desk. “Take a look through it.”

  Tracey turned it over in her palm. The cover had fancy black script text written over a faded gray picture of an empty bedroom. Letting Go and Letting God Work in Your Marriage by Dr. Frank H. Dockens, PhD.

  The pastor nodded at her when she looked up again. “Go home and read that. Meditate on the scriptures in there. Incorporate the prayers into your private time with the Lord. Follow the guidelines in the book. Your situation isn’t very different from what I’ve seen with other couples throughout the years. This book helped them. It can help you.”

  Tracey frowned. “Pastor, no disrespect to you, but this is—”

  “Not what you’re l
ooking for?” he asked.

  Tracey let the book drop to her lap. “I’m not having problems with my spiritual disciplines. I read my Bible. I spend quiet time with the Lord. I pray daily. None of it stopped my husband from outright lying to me.” She took a deep breath, exhaled and tamed her voice before the heat of her frustration continued to push it higher. “I think I need more than this.”

  Pastor Downes’s voice was warm but firm as he leaned in again. “Sister Jones, I hear you. I want you to know I didn’t pull out any random marriage book. There are exercises for you in there. If you want your marriage to improve, you should use it.”

  Tracey nodded.

  He settled back in his chair. “Now, I’m going to ask you some questions and I’m trusting you to answer honestly.”

  “Okay.”

  “When was the last time you spent private time with your husband?”

  “That depends on what you mean by private.”

  “Honesty, please,” he reminded her.

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  “When was the last time you went out to have a good time together, just the two of you?”

  Tracey had to think on that for a minute. When was that? Oh, right. The kids had been hanging out with Ricky and Charla that weekend. Tracey and Brian had gone to Sunday brunch. She remembered wearing her favorite red wool dress to match Brian’s red sweater. “Early December. We went to the jazz brunch at Relish.”

  “Has he tried to take you out any other time recently?”

  “No.”

  “All right,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Do you have a lot of family in the area? Any people around to help you so you can get out more often?”

  “Sure. Well, my parents, they’re in Philly. His parents are over in Voorhees. My brother is in Philly. Brian’s two brothers and their wives, they live in Conshohocken. My close girlfriends are in Delaware County. But they all have their own lives. My teenager’s life is full because of school and sports teams and his study groups. Everyone’s so busy. Though I guess I should make an effort to search for a regular babysitter for Brianna.”

  “Okay. Big question for you. Has your husband tried to be affectionate with you?”

  “Yes. But he did that after an argument.”

  “Did you go along with him, or did you push aside his affection?”

  She did the uncross and re-cross thing with her legs. Laced and unlaced her fingers. “I told him I didn’t want him in my space.”

  “I see.”

  She looked up at her pastor. “So, you probably think I deserve what’s happening, don’t you?”

  Pastor Downes’s brown eyes connected with hers. “I’m not here to judge. I’m serious when I say I’m here to help. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

  She offered a half-smile. “But I want to know what you think.”

  He chuckled. “Well, now that you’re asking. I’m only your pastor. I might as well give you my humble opinion.”

  Tracey allowed a small laugh. She sat up straight and stopped fidgeting. “Go on.”

  “An actual affair is a big charge. But there are some things I do know from what you’ve told me. You and Brian need a regular date night each week, even if you stay in the house. Spend more time together. I know he’s busy, but he can manage something. Around here, my schedule stays packed. But when it’s time for me to be with Sis. Downes I block out the time.”

  She crossed her arms and made a face. “Why do I have to ask him for time he should be giving me already?”

  “Do you want your marriage to get better or worse?”

  “Better.”

  “Good.” He took a sip of water from the bottle on his desk. “Sister, yes—you are right. He should be giving you his undivided attention. But since he isn’t, you’ll need to pursue him. And pray for him daily. Call up some of those folks in your family, or get a regular babysitter for your daughter and get out with him.”

  “Okay.”

  “The exercises in the book will help you formulate specific prayers for your situation. Remember, at this point you’re seeking truth and at the same time trying to reestablish bonds in your relationship. Don’t alienate your husband. You want to draw closer to him and rebuild trust so you can walk together.”

  “And if this thing is deeper than he’s told me about?”

  The pastor’s eyes still brimmed with kindness, but his smile faded. “If that’s the case, you’ll have a battle on your hands. Brian could be emotionally enmeshed with this woman, have a hard time letting her go, and both of you might think about divorce.”

  Tracey kept quiet as she allowed those words to do cartwheels around in her brain, then fall down and sink in slow.

  “But as you know,” he cleared his throat, “we don’t do divorces here at Rise. I haven’t lost a couple yet and you two are not going to mess up my record. Let’s pray and you can go home and do your homework.”

  Tracey waved the book at him and sighed. “I start reading this, and … ”

  “Do the exercises. And before this day ends, schedule a date with your husband. Make inroads to clear the air and talk openly with him. Try to listen to him without judging.”

  “Okay.”

  “Last thing. You have an enemy. But the enemy is Satan. Not Brian. Not the nurse.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now, let’s pray.”

  A minute later Tracey headed out of the office. She stood in the hallway, the book resting in her hands. She flipped through the pages and read the introduction. Verses. Prayers. Chapters ending with a list of questions and action items. It seemed like a condensed version of The Love Dare nearly every Christian couple she knew completed after the Fireproof movie came out a few years back. All the same nuts and bolts. Maybe it would help. She zipped the book into the front pocket of her bag and headed out. Time to see about her father.

  Taking Pernell to see the neurologist that morning was crazy. Tracey bit her tongue and stayed silent as Pernell dragged his feet and stalled for time. He pouted like an overgrown baby while he shadowed her into Dr. Remir’s office.

  “You know, I feel great today,” Pernell reassured Tracey as she opened the car door and took his hand right after they pulled up to the hospital.

  “Terrific,” she said. “Keep right on feeling good while you get these instructions and plan to follow them.”

  In the office, Dr. Remir spoke plainly. “Mr. Watson, mini-strokes are definite warning signs for a full-blown stroke.”

  “Does that mean it will happen to him soon?” Tracey asked apprehensively, reaching out to touch her father’s hand.

  Dr. Remir held his hands up as if to say he couldn’t make a prediction. Then he looked over at Pernell, whose eyes were downcast, and spoke about debilitation, paralysis, and diminished quality of life. Tracey looked over at her father and noticed his stillness. He sat wordless in the molded blue plastic chair. No blinking. No movement. He did not ask any questions. Tracey stared at her father’s face for a long moment. Immobile like granite. He must be getting the point.

  When Tracey dropped Pernell off at home, he tried to reassure her again. As he got out of the car, he told her, “This old man will be fine.”

  “Yes, because this old man will listen to his doctors from now on.”

  Driving toward home, Tracey sank deep into her seat. She deep breathed to a count of seven. In though her nose, out through her mouth until the snakelike coil of anxiety in her belly started to fade. Her thoughts darted from Brian, to her father, to her mother, to the kids, and back again. When her phone chimed, she ignored it. Instead, she took a moment to pray. Lord, whatever else is coming across my path, give me your grace and provide me with the courage and strength to handle it. Amen.

  Tracey didn’t bother to pick up her phone to find out who’d called. She’d get to it when she got in the house.

 
Her ringtone chimed once again, jolting her out of her thoughts. This time she focused her eyes on the road and put the device on speaker.

  “Hello.”

  “You felt the need to talk to Pastor Downes, huh?” Brian didn’t yell, but he still sounded ticked off.

  Tracey focused on keeping the car straight while she drove. Why lie? She didn’t do anything wrong. “Yes, I did.”

  “And you talked about me?”

  She cleared her throat. “Of course I talked about you.”

  Brian sighed. “Now Pastor Downes wants me to meet with him tomorrow. He also asked me to stop teaching the Men’s Wellness class on Sunday afternoon, effective immediately.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “Said he had concerns about my home life. He doesn’t want anyone serving if it’s taking away too much time from their family.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Listen, we were just talking.”

  “I thought you and I were clear everything is fine. There should have been no reason for you to discuss our private life with that man.”

  Everything’s fine? Had Brian taken a couple of whiffs of laughing gas that morning?

  “First, that man is our pastor, and I trust him. And second, I do not feel fine, Brian. Not at all. You hurt me, and I’m not sure where our relationship is going, and I chose to talk about it with someone who could give me some sound guidance.”

  “Without asking me?”

  “I don’t need your permission!”

  “Tracey, all I’m saying is if you wanted to go see a counselor, that’s a discussion we should have had before you talked about this with anyone at church.”

  Traffic on the road grew thick. A huge semi whizzed past her window and she eased off the gas, keeping the Volvo from drifting too close to the truck. This was insane. If Brian wanted to fight with her he needed to do it face to face and not smack dab in the middle of gas-fumed gridlock.

  “Tracey, are you there?”

  She gritted her teeth as she tried to keep the Volvo away from the heavy crush of cars that followed the trucks. “I’m here. But can we talk about this when I get in the house. I’m almost there.”