“Free, A Novella”
by Felicia Denise

Part VIII

Slowly making her way down the hall, Lennie suddenly was exhausted. Her memories had not only overwhelmed her but reliving them in this house…alone, as she was trying to break from her past consumed her energy.

Glancing into the small sitting room as she walked past, Lennie shook her head thinking of the hundreds of Christmas and birthday gifts this room had stored over the years. She stopped abruptly and looked back at the sitting room door. A sense of nostalgia washed over Lennie and brought something to mind she rarely had – a good memory of Ranard. A small grin graced her face as she reflected on their first Christmas in this house. A frustrated Ranard Porter had already injured himself several times attempting to assemble a tyke bike for little Duncan.

After putting the boys to bed, Lennie, armed with hot cocoa and snacks, joined Ranard. Handing him his cup, Lennie grabbed hers and sat beside him on the floor.

“You know you’re over-complicating this, right?”

Shaking his head vigorously, Ranard disagreed. “Not possible. I didn’t create this nightmare. Who uses seven different types of screws for a toddler bike? This is insane!”

“I’ll swap with you.” She took the instructions from him and handed him the snack tray.

Lennie’s eyes widened as she looked over the paper. “Wow. There are a lot of screws, aren’t there?”

Munching on a turkey wrap, Ranard simply nodded.

Looking over the top of the paper, Lennie noticed the jumbled pile of hardware. “And you dumped them all into one big pile, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know a Master’s Degree in physics was required to put together a child’s toy, Lenore.”

Covering her mouth with her hand, Lennie tried to hide her smirk…and failed. “Finish your snack. Then we’ll start at square one…again.”

Ranard reached for a handful of sugared almonds while his wife sorted the screws into seven piles. They both sat back and chatted quietly, enjoying the childless silence. After draining their cups, they approached their task as a team.

Less than an hour later, a shiny, red tyke bike sat between them. The floor was empty – with no leftover screws.

“I almost ruined Christmas, but my wife saved the day. If this gets out, I’ll lose my man-card for sure!”

Giggling, Lennie reached out and caressed his cheek. You were not going to ruin Christmas and I did not save the day.  It just took a little more patience.” She glanced at the bike. “And there were a lot of screws!”

Taking her hand from his cheek, Ranard held it in both of his, then kissed it. “And you’re always so patient with me.”

“Only because I love you.”

***

But her love had not been enough, and Lennie’s patience had run out.

Lennie had stopped mourning the end of her marriage long ago…if she ever truly had.

Her heels clicked against the marble tiles. Approaching the living room from the west side, she had traversed nearly the entire first floor. Looking at her watch, Lennie was shocked to see she’d been in the house for over three hours. So much for the “ten-minute walk through” she promised the realtor she would do before leaving town.

Taking a seat on one of the steps leading down into the living room, Lenore Porter buried her face in her hands. She’d had a good life here. She’d made mistakes…the wrong choices, but wasn’t that part of life? Although there had been several intense situations, they were nothing she didn’t rebound from, right? There were no serious and lasting repercussions, right?

A mirthless chuckle escaped her lips.

Yeah, right, Lenore. Keep fooling yourself.

Her marriage had been a train wreck. Her ex-husband had turned against them, and their son had tried to kill his own father.

Not exactly G-rated stuff.

Lennie and Ranard made bad choices and their sons paid the price, losing their family. When she tried to fix her mistake, Ranard’s bad choices almost cost him his life…and their son’s life. Lennie’s fix for that situation led her down yet another rocky path.

Duncan seemed to return to his old self after Lennie filed her divorce papers. Noise and chaos once again ruled the Porter household. But when the district marking period ended and Lennie received the boys’ report cards, her heart sunk. Every one of Duncan’s grades had fallen, and comments like “Incomplete projects”, “Assignments not turned in”, and “No class participation” accompanied every subject.

Lenore Porter became angry. She was angry with herself for not following through and missing any signs that Duncan was not okay. She was angry with the school for not contacting her as Duncan’s grade fell. Six teachers. SIX TEACHERS, and not one had sent an email or picked up a phone.

But Lennie was not angry with her son. Despite his size and demeanor, Duncan Porter was still a child. He was still dependent on adults for leadership. He was still dependent on adults for guidance or solutions to problems. She was his mother, and he was still dependent on her. And Lennie felt she had let him down. Duncan was holding in painful emotions he should never have had to deal with. If his grades were so negatively impacted without her sensing anything was wrong, what else had she missed?

After a quick call to Bea, her staff team manager, Lennie rushed out her front door, walking the short block to her destination.

Doug Henry was a psychiatrist who specialized in mental health issues in men. Though he usually consulted with veterans’ and first responder support groups, He did take on the occasional private patient and worked from home. His four children were close in age to Lennie’s boys leading them to work on many school projects and sporting events together over the years.

Anxiously ringing the doorbell, Lennie tried to steady herself.

Kay Henry opened the door wearing a warm, welcoming smile. One look at Lenore Porter, though, and her smile faded. Kay grabbed her neighbor’s arm and quickly pulled her inside.

“What’s wrong?”

Lennie opened her mouth to respond, but froze. How much should she tell her friends? Should she tell them about Ranard showing up after Duncan’s birthday party? The fight? Duncan’s depression? Deciding to tell them only about the divorce for now, Lennie opened her mouth to speak, but could only utter one word. “Duncan.”

Without taking her eyes on Lennie, Kay Henry took a couple of steps backward and called out to her husband.

“Doug! Lennie’s here…something’s wrong! Doug!”

Only second later, Doug Henry rushed into the foyer. “I heard you the first time, honey. What’s all the yelling for and wha-” He stopped mid-sentence seeing a troubled Lennie Porter fidgeting near his front door.

“Lennie, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Near tears, Lennie could still only utter one word. “Duncan.” Shrugging slightly, her arms fell limply at her sides.

With a quick nod to his wife, Doug slowly approached Lennie, gently taking her by the arm. “C’mon, Lennie. Let’s go to my office.

Without a word, Lenore Porter allowed the psychiatrist to lead her down the short hallway to his office. Just as he seated her on an overstuffed love seat, Kay came through the office door with a tray of coffee. Setting the tray on the coffee table in front of Lennie, Kay turned to leave when Lennie spoke.

“Please…stay.” She glanced at Doug. “Can she stay? I’d like a mother’s input on this.”

“Of course, she can, Lennie.” Before Doug could go any further, Kay Henry was already seated next to Lennie, pouring her a cup of coffee.

“You like it sweet, right Lennie?”

“Yes. Thank you for remembering, Kay.” Lennie accepted the coffee mug with both hands. Holding the mug close to her face, she didn’t sip from it, but instead simply stared into its dark, steamy depths.

Doug allowed a few minutes of silence to pass before pulling his neighbor out of her reverie.

“What’s going on with you, Lennie?”

Lennie didn’t take her eyes from the mug as she spoke.

“A few weeks ago, Ranard showed up unannounced. We had a horrible, ugly argument. So ugly, in fact, I called my attorney the next morning to start the proceedings to change our legal separation…to a divorce.”

A barely audible gasp escaped from Kay’s lips.

Lennie regarded her kindly. “It’s all right, Kay. Removing Ranard from our lives was the best thing for us. I should have done it long ago. I thought by having a legal separation, the boys would still have an opportunity to build a positive relationship with their father…without the stigma of divorce. I was wrong.” She turned to Doug. “The argument affected us all, but I think I got off the easiest because I had already closed that chapter of my life. If we had no children, I would have divorced him from the start.

But the boys…they each dealt with it in their own way. Myron was angry and RJ was fearful. After a few days…as the argument slipped into the past, those two seemed to settle down and move past it. But not Duncan. He was so intense and full of rage, guilt…and I think a bit of self-loathing…he couldn’t even look his brothers or me in the face.”

“Lennie, wait.” Doug sat his mug on the table. “Rage is understandable, but why would Duncan feel guilt…and self-loathing? Did something else happen?”

Sitting her own cup on the coffee table, Lenore scrubbed her hands, then folded them in her lap. “The argument was between Ranard and me…but it was…physical between him and the boys.”

“Son of a bitch!” Doug leapt to his feet, his face hard-set in anger. “The bastard walks awa-”

“Honey!” The pleading look in Kay’s eyes and slight head tilt in Lennie’s direction caused the psychiatrist’s face to redden.

“I-I am so sorry, Lennie. It’s just…just…”. Defeated, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, Lennie. That was unprofess-”

“I didn’t come here just because you’re a psychiatrist, Doug, but also a friend – someone I trust. You have nothing to apologize for. I was angry too.” Taking a deep breath, Lennie continued.

“Ranard and I argued…and Myron and Duncan were right there. Things were getting heated when RJ appeared. It was all upsetting to him, naturally, so I took him back to his room. When I…came back…Myron was sitting on the floor…motionless…watching Duncan…watching Duncan…”

“It’s okay, Lennie.” Kay patted her arm lightly.

Tears fell from her eyes as she looked first at Kay, then Doug. “Duncan had his father in a…chokehold.”

Husband and wife stared at each other…their expressions incredulous.

“I tried everything I could to get Duncan to release his father…but he was just too strong. I screamed at him, pleaded with him…but in the end, it was RJ-”

“RJ? But I thought you took-”

“I did take him to his room, but he heard my screams and came back. I’m grateful he did. His screaming out his brother’s name was the only thing that saved Ranard’s life that night.”

Kay rose and grabbed a box of tissues from the bookshelf. She held the box out to Lennie, then took a couple for herself. Still standing, Doug leaned against his desk.

“Do you know what happened after you left the room?”

Lenore shook her head. “I didn’t at first. But after releasing his father, Duncan ran to RJ. That’s when I turned and took a good look at Myron. His lip was split and an eye was swelling. Wasn’t hard to figure out Duncan was defending his brother.”

Doug Henry absently shook his head, swearing under his breath.  “I’d like to choke him myself.”

“Doug!” Kay Henry stopped wiping her eyes to glare at her husband. “You’re not helping things.”

“I know, honey…I know. I’m sorry, Lennie…again. It’s just for most of the years we’ve known each other, it’s always been you carpooling, and you volunteering at the games, and you hosting the family potlucks. Ranard’s never done a damn thing. And when you finally do what you have to do for peace of mind, he shows up years later out of the blue, and gets violent with your children. No real parent does that. No real father who loves his children does that. I’d give anything to be able to knock him on his ass right now.”

“Douglas!”

“Nope, not sorry this time, Kay. A man who will put his hands on his child to inflict harm or injury deserves the same treatment!” He walked over and retook his seat. “What do you need from me, Lennie? Do you want me to talk to Duncan?” Kill Ranard?”

Kay smirked, nodding in approval this time, and Lennie couldn’t help but grin.

“No, Doug. I think someone from outside of our lives would work better. For whatever reason, Duncan is wearing masks around his family and friends, but those same masks didn’t save his grades. Every single one fell.”

“Damn! This just won’t do! What do you need, Lennie…a referral?”

“Yes…please, Doug? I don’t want to waste time hunting down and researching therapists, trying to find one who’s a good fit. I need to get Duncan in to see someone who can help from the first visit. Is that possible?”

“Any other time, I’d say no, Lennie. Counseling can be a very tricky tool to use properly. Patients who have spent months…even years with psychiatrists or therapists with no measurable progress switch to someone new for whatever reason…and seem to be greatly improved after one visit. That means they were paired with the wrong person from the beginning, and either the counselor…or the patient refused to speak up.”

“Wow. I know the relationship is important, but I never realized it could be detrimental.”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I got this. I know Duncan and know he’s an exceptional kid. I have just the person in mind.” He stood and went to his desk. “Would you ladies give me a few moments to make a couple of phone calls?”

“Of course, honey. C’mon, Lennie. My cinnamon rolls aren’t works of art like yours but come let me know how I measure up.”

With a grateful look at Doug, Lennie Porter followed Kay from the room. “Oh, stop it, Kay. I’ll bet they’re amazing.”

“Lennie?”

She turned hearing Doug call her name. “Yes?”

“How soon do you want an appointment?”

“Yesterday.”

They both smiled.

“Today, tomorrow…just tell me when, Doug, and I’ll get him there.”

“Done.”

***

Less than an hour later, Lennie was on her way to the high school. Doug had referred Duncan to James Richie, a licensed clinical psychologist with one of the highest success rates in the city for counseling teens and young adults. Also a retired pastor, Doug assured her that James Richie wasn’t one of those who used scripture to shame or mock. Like Doug, James also preferred counseling males. Admitting to mental issues was a usual roadblock for most men and boys, and could jeopardize their therapy and recovery. The stigma was a focus of both Doug and James in their therapies.

While signing Duncan out of school, Lennie decided to save the issue of his falling grades and her not being notified sooner for another day. Getting her son the help he needed was her priority.

Lennie stood at the exit near the parking lot only a few minutes before Duncan walked down the hallway.

“Mom? What’s going on? What are you doing here? They said you signed me out for the rest of the day.”

Lennie had to stretch up on her tiptoes to kiss her growing son’s cheek. “Whoa! Slow down, kid. One question at a time.” She smiled and linked her arm in his and started towards the door.

“Mom?”

“Let’s get outside first, sweetie.”

Duncan held the door for his mother, then followed her down the ramp to the parking lot. As they approached her SUV, Duncan stopped.

“Mom? I’m starting to freak out a little here. What’s going on? Are Myron and RJ okay?”

She turned and faced him. “Your brothers are fine, Duncan. This is about you.”

The oldest Porter son frowned, confused. “Me? What about me?”

“Your report card came this morning.”

Duncan’s entire body seemed to sag and he hung his head.

“I-I’m sorry, mom…I messed up. I thought I could fix it before grades came out.” Duncan raised his head. “But I promise, mom…I swear, I’ll get back on track before the school year ends. I’ll work harder…stay after school for-”

“Duncan, stop!” Lenore shook her head slowly. “Honey, your grades are important. But this isn’t about your grades falling, it’s why they did, Duncan.”

Before her eyes, Duncan’s face began a slow morph…from ashamed, humiliated teenager to angry young man.

“What do you mean, ‘why’, mom? Kids get into trouble all the time with their grades. Not studying enough, distracted with games and music…even friends.”

“But that’s not the case with you, is it, son?”

“I guess you have all the answers, mom.”

Momentarily taken aback at his tone, Lennie took a step towards him, her own face setting in anger. “What did you say to me? Since when do you speak to me that way?”

His shoulders fell in defeat. “I’m sorry, mom…I was wrong to do that. I just…just feel like I’m drowning lately…or the walls are closing in on me, and-”

“Why?”

“Huh? Mom? Why what?”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“Gee, I don’t know mom. Growing pains, teen angst…Malcolm in the Middle was canceled…pick one.” His defiant tone was back.

She let the disrespect go…this time.

“Your father.”

“C’mon, mom! You can’t-”

“You haven’t been yourself since that night. I knew you were having a hard time right after it happened, but I thought you got better after I filed for divorce. I was wrong. And I bear the brunt of the blame for this. I let you down, sweetie.”

Side stepping his mother and heading for the car, Duncan waved his hands. “Mom, stop. You’re not to blame. No one is to blame. There is nothing wrong. I screwed up, Mom…simple as that.” He reached for the door handle. “And where are we going in the middle of the day, mom?”

Swallowing her anger, Lennie slowly approached the SUV. “I made an appointment for you to…talk with someone.”

Confused only for a few seconds, Duncan suddenly realized what his mother meant. “Talk to someone? You mean like a shrink? You’re taking me to see a shrink? I’m not crazy, mom.”

“No, baby, you’re not. But there is a problem?”

“Why? Why? Just because I had trouble in my classes and didn’t tell you? I’m not crazy, mom.”

“Duncan, you are not crazy…we both know that. But you yourself just said how you felt like you were drowning…that the walls were closing in on you. Your mind is overwhelmed with something, baby. We need to find out what.”

“No shrink.”

“It’s not up for discussion, Duncan.”

“I said no shrink! I’m not going!”

Lennie had had enough. “Boy, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you’d better get your butt in that seat, now!”

He looked away, staring across the parking lot. When he faced her again, a lone tear slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry, mom…no.”

“Duncan Mitchell Porter…enough! In the car, now!”

Backing away from the car slowly, Duncan shook his head.” I’m sorry, mom. I’m so, so sorry.” Then Duncan Porter turned and ran towards the street. When he reached the corner, he turned right and disappeared from his mother’s sight.

Lennie just stood there…stunned.

Part VII     Part IV

 

©Felicia Denise, 2016, 2017

“Free, A Novella”
by Felicia Denise

Part VII

A lone tear slid down Lennie’s cheek as she stood in the doorway.

She had almost lost her son that night, and her children, their father.

Ranard never returned to the house on Linden Lane after that night. The next day, Lennie called her attorney and instructed him to make the legal separation permanent. She wanted divorce papers filed immediately under the same terms as the separation with two changes. Lennie still wanted no financial support for herself or the boys, but Ranard would get no visitations, and he had to sign off the house.

Her attorney balked, saying the terms were easy for a separation, but no judge would allow her to keep the boys from their father even if she wanted no financial support. Lennie briefly explained to him what happened the night before, and assured her legal representative Ranard would not contest her terms.

Moving on had not been easy for Lennie’s Porter Patrol. RJ was fearful and had nightmares about his father reappearing. Myron was tightly wound with anger at Ranard for the physical abuse he’d suffered. But getting past that fateful night had been hardest for Duncan. He seemed to be at war with himself – guilt and anger competing for dominance, and neither never too far from boiling over. Coming to grips with the fact he’d nearly killed his father also embarrassed Lennie’s oldest son. During the next week, he couldn’t bring himself to look his mother or brothers in the eyes. Duncan kept his head down during meals, and spent the rest of his time behind a closed door in his bedroom. RJ would check on him once or twice each evening. Duncan would never turn him away, but he also never looked directly at his little brother.

A week later, a messenger dropped off divorce papers for Lennie to read and sign. Determined to no longer keep anything from her boys, Lennie sat them down and discussed the divorce and the documents with them. The boys nodded with understanding as their mother went over each page. Even RJ seemed to have a good grasp of the process.

Lennie turned to the last page and froze. The Porter boys looked at each other confused. Myron leaned over and touched Lennie’s arm.

“Mom? You okay? Is something wrong?”

Still speechless, Lennie turned the document so they could all see.

Ranard had already signed the divorce papers.

RJ and Myron visibly relaxed as the beginnings of a tiny smile played at the corners of Lennie’s lips. Even with the threat of child abuse charges and contacting his father looming over Ranard’s head, she had still expected a fight from Ranard. Lennie was thankful at least this time, he had done the right thing.

Only Duncan still sat silent. Looking across the room at nothing in particular, his mother watched his eyes flit back and forth as if trying to focus. Lennie left her two younger boys high-fiving each other and approached Duncan, sliding her arm around his shoulder.

“It’s all over except for the waiting game, and in a few months, that will be over too. We’re going to be fine.”

Nodding his head absently, Duncan turned his head and looked into her eyes for the first time in over a week. “I know, mom…I know.”

The pain and guilt Lennie saw trapped in her son’s eyes nearly broke her. With her arm still around his shoulder, Lennie sat down next to Duncan and pulled his head on to her shoulder.

“I can’t tell you when or where, or how long this will bother you…and I know it still bothers you…but honey, it does get better. It will get better. I hope you can forgive your father one day. But before you get there, you must forgive yourself. You did nothing wrong. You defended your brother…stood up for your family. Something anyone would have done.”

Raising his head, Duncan looked at Lennie again. “He’s our father. I defended my brother from our father. I nearly killed my own father. How do I get past that, mom? How do I look at my brothers again?”

” Yes, sweetie, you could have killed your father. But, you didn’t. Know why?” Pulling him towards her, Lennie turned to where her other two boys were still sitting, only now they were watching her and Duncan. “Because your love for them is stronger than your hatred for your father.”

RJ and Myron nearly leapt to their feet and rushed to their brother’s side. RJ slipped his arm around Duncan’s other shoulder.

“I love you, big brother. You always eat all the Captain Crunch, but I’m glad you’re my brother.”

Duncan fought the smile trying to form on his lips and ducked his head…and found himself looking into Myron’s eyes as he knelt in front of him.

“Dunc…did I ever tell you…you’re my hero?”

Throwing his head back, Duncan roared with laughter. RJ was hit with a case of the giggles when Myron then threw a big, toothy grin at his older brother.

Lennie stood and quietly walked away, leaving her boys in a laughing, wrestling pile of brotherly love.

 

Turning away from the family room, Lenore stood in the hallway.

So much had happened. So many memories. Lennie and her boys survived it all…together.

Removing Ranard from their lives had been the best thing for Lenore and the boys. It hurt them each in different ways, but they were entitled to a good life. A decent life without the stresses of dysfunction. Without the pain of rejection and abandonment. Without wondering if someone who wasn’t a part of your life would try to exercise control over your life.

But Fate wasn’t done with them. Life still had more lessons to teach, and pain to inflict.

 

Part VI     Part VIII

 

©Felicia Denise, 2016, 2017

“Free, A Novella”
by Felicia Denise

Part VI

Pouring herself a glass of wine, Lennie smiled as she heard Duncan see the last of his guests out. His sixteenth birthday party was a huge success! Duncan and Myron had hosted his friends in the family room with the right foods and music, making for the right ‘cool’ factor. Lennie had set up the breakfast nook and dining room for chauffeuring parents, as well as the den for younger siblings. Everyone was happy.

Everyone was also incredibly well-behaved. Lennie and a couple of patrolling dads didn’t have to issue any warnings about dance floor antics or couples sneaking off. Though they tried to act like grownups, Lennie felt most of the teens were secretly glad their parents were so close by.

Taking a seat on the reclining leather sofa, Lennie lazily leaned back enjoying the quiet. Looking around the room, she was also pleased and impressed at how parents had organized everyone into cleaning crews. Everything was back in its place, and even all the trash was taken out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Hearing Duncan’s raised voice, Lennie sat up. She hoped no one was having car trouble.

“I don’t owe you a damn thing!”

On her feet immediately, Lennie sat her wineglass on the bar as she moved towards the front door. Before she could even leave the family room, Duncan and Myron were standing in front of her…faces hard and anger flaring in their eyes.

“Duncan Mitchell Porter! Did I hear you swear? You just turned-” Lennie stopped abruptly when she noticed someone approaching behind the boys. Her facial features immediately mimicked theirs.

“Ranard. What are you doing here?”

With far too much swagger, Ranard stepped around his sons to stand in front of Lennie.

“Well, damn. No man should be greeted this way in his own home. My sons don’t want to allow me in, and my wife questions my presence.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but Lennie took a step back. Ranard smirked.

“Again, I ask…what are you doing here, Ranard?” The iciness of her tone caused the smirk on his face to fade.

“I couldn’t miss our eldest son’s sixteenth birthday, Lennie. Even though I wasn’t invited to the party, I at least thought I’d be welcomed.”

“You missed the last seven birthdays, Ranard, and two or three before that. What’s different now? And how did you know we had a party?”

Ranard tried to feign sorrow…and fell short. “I’ve been sitting outside for quite a while. I pulled up and saw all the cars and knew you were celebrating in here. Since I wasn’t told about it beforehand, I decided to wait until the crowd thinned.”

“More like you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of a group of people who know what kind of a father you’re not.” There was no mistaking the venom in Duncan’s voice.

“Boy, is that any way to speak to your father? I may not be around, but look at the home I’ve provided for you…a home that still bears my name, by the way. I don’t need an invitation. I can come and go as I please.”

Lennie turned away from Duncan to fully face Ranard. “Since when? We’re legally separated, and this is not your address of record. So, no matter how the mortgage currently reads, you cannot come and go here as you please. I’ll ask one more time. What are you doing here?”

Giving up all pretense, Ranard threw up his hands. “Fine. Some people just won’t allow you to be nice. I want to sell the house. Even without an appraisal, the mortgage company assures me I could more than make back my investment.”

Lennie and the boys all stood there…mouths agape…not believing their ears. Duncan was the first to speak.

“You want to sell our home? After seven years, you show up to tell us you’re selling our home?”

Lenore Porter stood by silently…frozen in a rage she had never known. The man standing across the room was a stranger to her. Any love she may have still had for Ranard had faded years ago. But, now…in this very moment, she understood what it meant to hate someone. This man casually told his children he wanted to sell their home. He was more concerned with investments than their welfare. Lennie had had enough. She was done. Approaching Ranard slowly, she enunciated each word.

“This house…our home, is not for sale, Ranard. There are two names on the mortgage and without my consent, the mortgage company shouldn’t be quoting deals to you. They haven’t seen you or received a cent from you in seven years. If you try to push through any kind of sale, I’ll sue you and them! Do you understand? Do you hear what I’m saying, Ranard?”

Anger flared in his eyes. “You can’t talk to me like that! Who do you think you are-”

“Unlike you, I know who…and what I am, Ranard. But then…you know how pathetic you are, don’t you, Ranard? Gilbert Porter has made sure to remind you of that every chance he gets!”

“You bitch-”

“You watch your mouth! Do not speak to my mother that way!” Duncan visibly shook, his hands tightening into fists.

“And what about you, boy? Talking to your father like you’re a man or something! I can see your mother slacked on her job of teaching you some respect!”

Duncan took a step towards his father, but Lennie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“My boys are well mannered, and respectable…to those who are deserving of their respect.”

“I’ve had just about enou-”

“Good! Then you can go now.”

“I’ll leave when I’m-”

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

They all turned suddenly to see eleven-year-old RJ standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes were wide with fear as he clutched the top of the banister.

Glaring at Ranard one last time, Lennie rushed up the stairs to her youngest, most sensitive child. “Yes, sweetie, it is. We all had a small misunderstanding, but nothing for you to worry about, okay?”

RJ glanced down at his big brothers, noticing…and feeling the anger enveloping them. He then looked at Ranard, his expression blank. While Duncan and Myron had time with their father when they were babies and toddlers, RJ had almost none since the day he was born. His brothers felt a sense of betrayal and rejection from their father, but RJ felt nothing. To him, Ranard Porter was someone who upset his mother. And, now Ranard had upset his brothers. RJ wanted to go to his brothers, but Lennie was at his side wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

“C’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed. No more excitement tonight.”

RJ reluctantly allowed his mother to steer him back down the long hallway.

“You can go now.” Myron didn’t bother to hide his contempt for his father.

Ranard smirked. “You got balls, boy…I’ll give you that. But sounds like you need a lesson in respect, and I’m-”

“…not the person to give it to him. I’ll walk you to the door…dad.” Duncan grimaced on the last word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Sizing his sixteen-year-old son up as Duncan got closer, Ranard realized for the first time that the boy had the advantage in height and weight. He quickly took a step back.

“What has that woman been telling you boys to make you hate me so much? I’m your father, dammit! Stop treating me like some thug off the street!”

“Then stop acting like one”, Duncan countered. “My birthday means nothing to you. None of us mean anything to you. You showed up to take from us. I don’t know why you thought mom would simply agree with you, but you’re wrong. This is our home. Mom takes care of us…and we’re not leaving.”

A bitter smiled tugged at the corner of Ranard’s mouth. “She takes care of you. Your sweet, sainted mother. Am I supposed to believed that she makes a few sandwiches a week, and she can afford all this?” He gestured around the foyer. “I’m not a fool. I know she’s got some man in the shadows taking care of her.”

“I wish she did!” Ranard and Duncan both turned to look at Myron.

“Then you wouldn’t be standing here. Then maybe mom wouldn’t have to work so hard. And maybe we’d have a real dad.”

“Like I said…Saint Lenore! I’m not buying it! I know she’s whoring around to keep my house from me!”

Ranard had barely finished his sentence before Myron lunged at him.

“Stop calling mom names! Stop it! Stop it! I hate you! I hate you’re our father! I hate you!”

While Myron’s blows found their mark, he was not yet as big as his brother. Ranard easily subdued him and fisted Myron’s shirt collar at the base of his throat. Slapping his son across the face, Ranard laughed.

“You got some fire, kid, but like I said,” Ranard slapped Myron across the face again, “you need to learn some resp-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Grabbing his father’s hand, Duncan twisted it behind his back. “Let. Him. Go.”

“Boy, you’d better take-”

Duncan twisted Ranard’s arm higher. “I said…let him go.”

Defying his son, Ranard tightened his grip on Myron’s collar.

Duncan continued to twist his father’s arm until his hand nearly touched the back of his own head.

Crying out, Ranard shoved Myron backward away from him, causing Myron to fall.

Seeing his brother go down, Duncan snapped. Sweeping his foot under his father’s legs, Duncan took Ranard down, never releasing his hand. Hitting the floor with a thud, Ranard flailed around helplessly.

“Let go of me!”

Holding fast, Duncan slowly applied pressure to Ranard’s hand. Screaming in pain, Ranard attempted to dig his other hand into Duncan’s leg.

He only succeeded in pissing off his son more. Duncan leaned forward, wrapping his arm under Ranard’s neck, effecting a choke hold, and tightened his grip.

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Myron watched silently, not caring if the man on the floor lived or died.

“DUNCAN! NO! STOP! LET GO!”

Myron looked up to see his mother leaning over the upstairs railing.

Duncan, with his own eyes squeezed tightly closed, continued to apply pressure to Ranard’s neck.

Lennie pleaded with her eldest son as she raced down the stairs.

“Duncan! Please let go! Please, Duncan, stop!” Lennie fell to her knees as she reached her son. Grabbing his arms, Lennie attempted to break his hold, with no success. “Duncan, you have to stop! Don’t do this! Please, baby!”

It was as if she hadn’t spoken at all. Blind with rage, Duncan Porter tightened his hold.

Lennie, near hysteria, panicked even more when she saw Ranard’s eyelids flutter.

“Duncan! He is not worth it! Please stop! Let go! Don’t ruin your life over someone who didn’t care enough to be a part of it!” Lenore grabbed at her own chest, the thought of losing her son caused her physical pain.

“DUNCAN!

The shrill cry echoed in the room and hallway as all eyes turned to see RJ standing at the bottom of the stairs, tears streaming down his face.

As though coming out of a trance, Duncan Porter looked down at his arm wrapped around his father’s neck…and released him immediately…slamming Ranard’s face against the floor. In one swift move, Duncan was on his feet moving towards his baby brother. Reaching RJ, Duncan wrapped him in his arms, hugging his close. He turned them both, moving towards Myron, and Lennie saw his face was wet from tears.

She glared at Ranard, who was drooling and sputtering as he crawled across the floor. “Are you happy now, Ranard?” She rose and went to her sons, seeing the dried blood on Myron’s face and shirt for the first time.

“I’m calling the police! They lock sixteen-year-olds up in this state like adults! You should never have attacked me like some common criminal! I’m going to make sure you go to prison for this!” His throat raw from the choke hold, Ranard’s threats didn’t hold the power he intended.Standing with her boys, Lenore Porter smirked. “Go ahead, Ranard…call the police.” She reached into her back pocket. “Would you like to use my phone?”

Standing with her boys, Lenore Porter smirked. “Go ahead, Ranard…call the police.” She reached into her back pocket. “Would you like to use my phone?”

Propping himself up against the wall, Ranard stared at her, confused. “What?”

“Would you like to use my phone?”

“Are you stupid? You want YOUR son to go to jail?”

“He’s not going anywhere. But, if he does, he’s not going alone. Perhaps they’ll let you two share a cell, and Duncan can practice a few more wrestling moves on you.”

Patting his pockets in search of his cell phone, Ranard tried to laugh but choked instead. “You dizzy bitch! I’m not going to jail.” He pointed towards Duncan. “He overpowered me and tried to kill me!”

Slipping two fingers under Myron’s chin, Lennie gently raised his head. “This is called child abuse, Ranard. After the police see his busted lip, swollen eye, and all the blood on his shirt…trust me…you’re going to jail.”

True fear showed in Ranard’s face. Pushing himself up finally into a standing position, he tried to challenge Lennie. “You won’t do that. You can’t do that.”

“You would be surprised at what I can do, Ranard.” She took two steps in his direction. “I’m raising my boys to be good men…despite who their father is. I run a successful business that I get offers for every week.” She gestured around the room. “I’ve hung on to, and taken care of this house without so much as a penny from you. I can do just about anything I set my mind to.”

She took two more steps towards him. “But you know what I couldn’t do, Ranard? I couldn’t help you. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make you see your own self-worth. I loved you. I gave you a family. Yet, you still couldn’t see how much you mattered. Instead, you turned all the hatred you had for your father on to me…and then foolishly did anything you could to prove you were better than your father.” Lennie shook her head sadly. “But it didn’t work, Ranard. All you did was become Gilbert Porter.”

He flinched as though she had slapped him. “No! Don’t say that! I’m nothing like him!”

“You’re exactly like him. The only difference between the two of you is his wife died. You simply acted like yours did.”

“Lennie, I-”

“There’s nothing else to say here. If you’re going to call the police, do it now. If not, leave Ranard…and never come back.”

“You can’t-”

“Call the police…or leave and never come back. There are no other options. Nothing left to discuss.”

“Lennie-”

“It’s…over.”

Looking completely lost, Ranard moved towards the front door. Rubbing at his throat, he stopped and looked back at his children standing together with their arms around each other. He looked at his wife and saw her face clouded with contempt…for him.

Turning and taking the last steps to the door, Ranard reached out for the doorknob…and froze.

This isn’t what he wanted. This isn’t what he needed. The last seven years had been one long nightmare. Constantly trying to stay ahead of the game at work. Hanging out with friends and coworkers he didn’t like…and who didn’t like him. Sleeping with any woman who said yes. And Gilbert Porter going out of his way to find his youngest son every few weeks to tell him how worthless he was. He’d tell him how a real man would step up to the plate and reclaim his family…be the husband and father they needed him to be. Not some loser who couldn’t even remember his sons’ birthdays.

Ranard Porter had wanted to fix his life, but he didn’t know how. He’d wanted to push his pride aside and admit his weaknesses. But he just couldn’t. Not to Lennie. She was so smart. Always confident and sure of herself. Even when he attempted to berate and degrade her, she rose above him and continued on. Not seeking or needing his approval. Not needing anyone’s approval…the way he did. Approval he never found.

He turned slightly to look at what he’d lost. Myron stood with his arm around RJ’s shoulder, and they watched their mother comfort Duncan. His teenage son who stood ready to defend his brother…from him. A man-child…already more of a man than Ranard was…or would ever be.

Ranard silently opened the door and slipped out into the loneliness of the night…where he belonged.

Watching as Duncan knelt to console a still fearful RJ, Lenore Porter heard the click of the door when it closed.

It was over.

 

 

Part V     Part VII

 

©Felicia Denise, 2016