Chapter Twelve
Frances Come Home
Lisa looks over at her husband. He frowns. "I would have thought he'd be excited."
"You and me both," Lisa says as she opens the refrigerator and takes out two eggs. "Tom could you get me that large bowl in the cupboard." He hands her the bowl, "Thank you." She places the bowl on the countertop, cracks the eggs and begins to scramble them.
He crosses his arms as he leans against the counter, "What are you preparing now?"
"Chicken cutlet, I don't want you guys eating crap all next week, you do remember that I am working the 4 to 12 shift next week."
"Yes I remember."
The door suddenly opens and Bobby rushes through the kitchen and up the stairs, followed closely by Andy. "Bathroom break," Tom chuckles. "Maybe he felt like he'd be imposing on us, asking us to take him to pick her up."
Lisa dunks the chicken pieces in the egg and lays them on top of the breadcrumbs, "No, I don't think so because he could have called Denise and she would have taken him without hesitation, I think it's more than that."
A repeat of the boys running down the stairs and through the house, "Boys," Lisa says. "Slow down."
She can hear two "I'm sorry" as the kitchen door slams behind them. The dribbling starts once again. Tom takes a quick peek out the window over the sink, which has a view of the driveway, "Nice shot," he says quietly. "I think you may be right. I mean look at him. He's playing out there like he doesn't have a care in the world," he turns back to his wife. "He's given up on her, like all the others?"
"Maybe," she waves her hand. "I'm not sure. What do we do?"
Tom shrugs his shoulders; "I have no idea," he hesitates then sits down. "I think we should talk to him."
"And say what?"
"I don't know," he points at her. "That's where you come in."
She chuckles shaking her head, "Oh no, no."
"Come on," he reaches for her hand. "You always seem to be able to talk to him. But," he lifts her hand up. "Don't push it." He checks the time and then stands, "I am meeting a client, who is very interested in buying the old Barker home."
She covers the prepared chicken and places it in the freezer, "The handy mans special." She begins to clean up the counter top.
"Yes, I think when this guy is done with that house it will be worth twice what he paid for."
She whispers, "Chicken." He raises his eyebrows then kisses his wife on her cheek, "Be back in a couple of hours."
Later That Afternoon
Lisa had sent the boys to the store to buy some cold cuts for lunch, when they return they forgot to pick up rolls. Andy volunteers to return to the store.
Lisa un-wraps the deli packages and places the turkey and roast beef in plastic wrap. She opens the garbage can and it is full once again. "Bobby could you do me a favor?"
"Yeah sure."
"Could you empty the garbage for me?"
"No problem." He empties the garbage in the outside can and he returns to the kitchen to replace the can.
"Thank you."
He smiles, "Not one of my favorite chores but I guess someone has to do it." He is just about out of the kitchen when she calls him back.
"Bobby."
"Yeah." He leans in the doorway.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He nods. She pulls out the kitchen chair, "Please sit."
"Oh boy, what now?" he shuffles into the room.
"Tom and I were wondering, maybe it's none of our business but we were………" she glances at him. He is frowning at her. "No it's not bad. We were wondering why you didn't ask Tom or I to drive you to pick up your Mom? We would have made arrangements."
"Mister Sawyer took care of that, besides Coach doesn't like it when you miss practice."
"Bobby, Coach Jenkins may be a bit of a," she snaps her fingers. Bobby interjects, "A hard ass." She chuckles and pats his hand. "Couldn't have said it any better myself, anyway he would have excused you if you asked, you know that."
"I suppose, I just," he starts fidgeting in his seat. "I didn't want to go back there," he stands up, raising his voice. "Let alone bring you or Tom with me, all the arrangements have been made so don't worry about it." He abruptly turns and at a quick pace leaves the room.
She exhales, "Well I'm not sure if that went good or bad." Tom has since returned. She notices him, "Hey Hon," he says.
"Hey, I didn't even get a chance to suggest Denise, maybe we should do what he says, not to worry about it."
"Yeah but you will anyway, won't you?" he says.
Lisa spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen preparing meals for her family for next week's dinners. She has finished wrapping up the meals and has stored them in the freezer. She blows out a long breathe and sits down at the table.
"Mom!"
She opens the door, "Gees what is it Andy?"
"Sorry, could you put on the light over the garage; it's getting dark out here."
"Sure."
"Thanks Mom."
The clock chimes five times, "Great, she thinks. Now it's close to dinnertime. No way am I making dinner tonight. She stands and calls out to her husband, "Tom what do you want to do for dinner?"
He shrugs his shoulders, "Whatever you want, Hon."
You're a big help. She opens the back door. "Guys," she watches as Bobby feeds the ball to Andy and when he goes in for a lay-up Bobby cuts in front steals the ball pivots and shoots. "Yes," he says as he pumps his fisted hand.
Andy puts his arm up, they high five. "Nice shot, man."
"Guys," Lisa calls to them once again.
"What Mom." Andy says as he wipes his shirt across his forehead.
"What do you guys want to eat for dinner?"
Andy answers as Bobby continues to dribble and shoot from different angles. "Anything Mom, we're starved, right Bobby?"
Bobby sinks a ten footer, "Always."
"Oh forget it," she lets go of the door and it closes behind her. "I'll order in a pizza. If they're not in the mood, I don't care. I ask for an opinion and they all give me the same answer."
"Lisa," Tom calls to his wife. "Who are you talking too?"
"Just thinking out loud."
Monday
South Beach Psychiatric Center, 9 AM
Frances wakes early this Monday morning, excited about going home. After breakfast she showers and changes from her gown into a pair of slacks and a sweater that Mister Sawyer brought to her last night. She slips on her shoes and combs through her hair. She looks through the bag that held her clothes. He forgot my makeup bag. She smirks at her reflection in the mirror. There is a knock on her door. "Come in," she says.
"Morning Misses Goren, are you ready?" asks Nurse Fuller.
She nods, "Yes I am." She looks past the nurse in the hope that her sons would be there; she bows her head as she gets into the wheelchair. School, Mister Sawyer changed the time, they both have school. I'll see them later. A faint smile crosses her face.
She is wheeled to the exit and sees a cab parked outside. She looks up at the nurse, "I thought Mister Sawyer had requested for an ambulance?"
"You have to arrange for that service at least five days in advance."
A small wave of panic hits and she feels uneasy, "I don't have any money to pay for a cab." The driver has since exited his vehicle. "Ma'am I have already been paid," he reaches for her hand and she takes a hold.
The ride back to Brooklyn is quiet and unsettling for her. The driver escorts her to the front door. She thanks him and shrugs her shoulders as she absent-mindedly searches for her purse. The driver lightly touches her hand, "It's alright, Ma'am, have a good day." He slowly walks down the walkway.
"Thank you ah," he turns back around.
"Chester," he says with a wide grin on his face.
She nods, "Thank you Chester."
"You're very welcome." He waves as he walks down the driveway toward his cab.
She digs into her jacket pocket and takes out the house key, good thing, she thinks to herself, reminding Larry to give me a key. She opens the door and smiles at the fact that she is home. She walks slowly through the house, the stuffiness of the air causes her to cough, and she proceeds to open the windows on this unseasonably warm November morning. The house is as she left it. Neat but a little dust has settled on the furniture. She notices the paper bag that Larry had told her held her mail. He discarded the newspapers. I'll go through those later.
She goes up stairs into her bedroom, changes into something a little more comfortable. Her bed is unmade and she pulls off the sheets and walks with the bundle down the hall. When she passes Franks' room she opens the door and stands in the doorway; all that remains in the room are his bed and dresser. She sits on the bed and hugs the pile of sheets in her arms. He'll be a success and he'll be there for me when I need him. She wipes the tears from his eyes and leaves the room. A few more steps and she notices that Bobby's' bedroom door is open, she peeks in the room, unmade bed and few items on the floor, she smiles. I'm sorry Bobby, I am so sorry. She stands in the doorway and tears stream down her cheek. She grabs the doorknob and closes the door.
She continues her task of washing the sheets and putting on a fresh set. She dusts the furniture and runs the vacuum. She stops and looks around the house, "Better much better."
She replaces all the cleaning supplies, and then picks up the paper bag, that contains her mail and goes into the kitchen. She dumps the mail on the table. She begins to sort through it when a hunger pain hits, she checks the time, twelve forty five. I'll look through this mess while I eat. She opens the refrigerator, takes out two eggs and prepares on omelet for herself.
Larry had taken care of any bills that needed to be paid; all that was left was junk mail and a letter from a school friend, Janine Tucker. How odd why would she be writing me a letter? The contents of the letter included that she was coming up from Georgia and she had written to her old girlfriends in the hope that they could get together for a night on the town. She also stated that Frances was the only hold out for the twentieth high school reunion party that was held two years ago. Frances tosses the letter on the pile then quickly picks it up and tears it into pieces. She stands up suddenly and with a quick motion all the mail is on the floor. She sits back down and covers her face with her hands as she sobs.
The phone rings and she wipes her eyes and with great anticipation, one of my boys, answers the phone, "Hello."
"Good afternoon Frances,"
"Larry," she leans against the sink.
"How is everything? Do you need anything?"
"Everything is fine Larry, thank you."
"Ok I'll check back later, remember if you need anything call me and I'll make arrangements."
"Yes I will," she turns around to look out the kitchen window. "When will my son come home?"
"I have no control over that, as I told you before you will need to go before a judge. I will be with you in court."
"He's never coming back is he?"
"I……..I can't answer that question, Frances I'm sorry."
"I was very nasty to him in the craz…….hospital and that women, whatever her name was, heard everything. She tried to make me believe that she understood but I could tell what she was thinking." She says mockingly, "I'll find a better place for him to live."
"No sense in getting yourself upset about that now."
"I suppose you're right."
"Remember anything you need."
"Yes I know Larry, thank you."
"Goodbye Frances."
"Goodbye."
After she hangs up the phone she looks at the mess on the floor. She picks up the torn letter that her high school friend sent her, wishing now that she hadn't reacted that way. She smiles when she remembers, her along with Janine, Ellen and Vicky, cheerleaders all through high school. We were good.
She proceeds to clean up the papers on the floor. She chuckles to herself. "If they could see me now," she laughs aloud and covers her mouth. As suddenly as she started laughing she begins to cry.
She stands erect, "Stop it!" A rustling noise outside the front door startles her, Bobby. She hurriedly walks through the living room and opens the door. The swing on the front porch is swaying, it needs to be oiled. She closes the door and heads back toward the kitchen. She finishes cleaning up and then checks the freezer, pulls out a package of pork chops for tonight's' dinner and sets the package in the sink to defrost.
She walks slowly through her home. Memories of her childhood growing up in this house come to mind. She smiles to herself, remembering when she was a girl, running through the living room to greet her father when he came home from work. He worked very hard and he often came home tired but he always would make time for her and her little brother.
"Richard." she says the name aloud. Pleasant memories turn to unhappy ones. Richard's wife, Carol. She sneers when she thinks of her. She remembers what Carol had told her brother about them visiting. "I don't want my children around her."
"Carol, she is harmless, besides that, she is my sister and Bobby and Ronny are very close. They are family."
"You can visit her whenever you want but you are not to bring my children there anymore. Lord knows what she might do to them."
Richard would visit from time to time but five years ago he was offered a job in Chicago. He never told her he was moving, she found out when he sent her a Christmas Card. Frances never sent him one in return.
She sits in her favorite chair and picks up a book. The new medication she thinks seems to agree with me. She is calm and able to focus. She tries to read, but she can't concentrate on the words. She keeps replaying the words that she said to him.
"Better than at home with me," she looks at him. "Is that what you think Bobby?" He turns his back on her and looks out the window, "Is that what you're saying? The both of you?"
"No Ma'am."
Frances turns her head away and waves at them "Get out of here and take that ungrateful bastard with you."
"Misses Goren, please think about what you're saying."
Bobby moves quickly past Denise and is out the door when Frances yells to him, "That's it, run away just like your father. You're going to grow up to be just like him, you little son of a bitch. I just know it."
"No not my boys they will never emulate that man. Bobby I'm so sorry." She nods her head confident in the fact that he knows she didn't mean what she said. She looks down at the page in the book. She re-reads the same paragraph, three times. Slams the book closed, "I still don't know what I read." She hears a noise on the front step. She smiles, there he is, she hurriedly places the book on the table and opens the door. "Afternoon Misses."
Mail carrier, "Afternoon."
"Here you are."
"Thank you." She closes the door softly and resumes her seat and sorts through the mail. Same ole crap.
She closes her eyes, and falls asleep. The book she was reading falls on the floor and it wakes her. She checks the time, 5 PM.
She returns to the kitchen and prepares her dinner, she seasons her chops and places them in the oven, the only vegetables are the frozen ones and she brings them to a slight boil, she absent-mindedly prepared three chops. She stares at the front door while her dinner is cooking. She checks the time. "I wonder what he is doing now? Basketball practice is over."
She walks slowly through the living room and opens the front door. Alone, I don't like being alone.
TBC
