“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

“Free, A Novella”
by Felicia Denise

Part III

Lennie’s vision began to blur, but it wasn’t until a lone tear fell onto the letter that she realized she was crying. Her mind raced as she tried to get a handle on her emotions before continuing. Evidently, her aunt had written this letter the day after Lennie and the boys had ended their vacation and returned home. Obviously, Auntie had hidden her feelings quite well as Lennie never suspected a thing.

And the two sisters had talked about this. Lennie’s jaws tightened as she pictured her mother and aunt sitting around discussing her life! What gave them the right? She knew both women loved her unconditionally, but that didn’t mean they knew what was best for her. Second guessing her decisions? As though she were an errant child? Lennie fumed at the disrespect! They didn’t understand. No one did. Ranard was far from perfect, but the sacrifices she made were to build him up; to strengthen his confidence; make him worthy in his father’s eyes.

Falling back against the sofa, Lennie’s body sagged under the weight of reality. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she realized all her love, support, and efforts to help Ranard believe in himself and become a success had been an exercise in futility. While Ranard was moving up in the chemical research and development world, his self-esteem was still as low as the day they met in college. He had just grown better at masking it from everyone, except Lennie. The loving gratitude Ranard used to show Lennie, and the special times they spent together were also gone. Replaced by hurtful words, biting remarks and constant judgement whenever they were together. Ranard had become Gilbert Porter – his father – and Lennie had become his favorite target.

Laying the letter aside, Lennie stood and walked to the window. Closing her eyes, Lennie leaned her forehead against the glass. She’d had such hopes and dreams for their future together. When had it all gone so wrong? They had been so happy after they were married. Duncan had been a total surprise with Lennie finding out she was pregnant a few short weeks after their June wedding. But Ranard had been thrilled, and anxious to have his own family. He yearned to give his children the love and attention his father never gave him. However, the birth of Myron two short years later saw a different Ranard Porter. Still friendly and affable with co-workers and friends, at home, Ranard was cynical and cruel. Lennie never knew when he would verbally lash out, and was grateful his time away from home seemed to increase. Her heart broke for her boys. Duncan had only had his father’s attention until he began to walk, and Ranard had only held infant Myron a scant few times.

Looking back at the letter on the sofa, Lennie wiped the tears from her face. The people who knew her best…and loved her most, were right. They had long ago seen the things she’d refuse to admit to herself. Marrying Ranard had been a mistake. She had mistaken his devotion and gratitude for her tutoring and moral support…for love, and maybe while it wasn’t a smoldering, all-consuming love, Lennie felt they were good together. Love would come and grow with time. When Ranard, nervous but excited, knelt on one knee before Lennie in their favorite restaurant and proposed, she was over the moon. The next day, Lennie purchased a leather-bound journal and began plotting their future together.

Her family was not as excited as she had expected, but she assumed it was because they felt as though they were losing her even more than when she went off to college. Lennie knew they would share her happiness once they started planning her wedding. Her Mom and aunt would go over-board with decorations, and her dad would wear the world’s biggest grin as he walked her down the aisle.

She had only gotten a shadow of that “happy day.” And now, she knew why. Now it made sense why during the biggest event of her life, her family wore smiles that didn’t reach to their eyes.

Lennie had no idea what more her aunt could have written that would rattle her any more than she was, but steeling herself, she quickly walked to the sofa and retrieved the letter. Pacing slowly around the room…she read.

It is truly difficult to accept the choices of someone you love, Lennie, when you feel you know them so very well…and they make decisions that are so out of character.

I was speechless when I first saw your new home. It was so elegant and grand…and so not you. The house was far too pretentious for you. When I saw your face as Ranard walked us from room to room, boasting over the cost of the house, I knew then whose house it truly was. It also confirmed my suspicions that Ranard Porter was a foolish, impractical man, more interested in boasting and showing off than labors of love. You appeared to wince, Lennie, each time he mentioned the price of the house. He was living above his means…and yours. Two weeks later, your mother called to tell me about Ranard buying two new cars and to share her concerns for you and the boys. While he made good money, your husband was spending it faster than he was earning it. My sister and I were almost certain you were not consulted on any of his purchases. But, again Lennie, you allowed it.  You wouldn’t speak up on your own behalf, and you didn’t speak up for your children.

Lennie abruptly stopped pacing and reading. Realizing her aunt AND her parents knew her shame – jeopardizing the boys’ future by not trying to reign in Ranard’s endless spending – caused Lennie’s chest to tighten. Ranard was a foolish man, and he was getting worse, not better. But she was determined to make her marriage work. She had to.

She leaned against the desk to finish the letter.

Like your parents, Lennie, I have only wanted the best for you. When you were younger and I could assist Linda and Burt, I did. When you married Ranard, I wanted to gift you the down payment for your first home, but Burt asked me to wait. When Duncan was born, I at least wanted to start a college fund for him, but providence stopped me. After the house and the cars, and then you launching your lunchtime catering business, my mind was made up.

While you were here a few months ago with the boys…and distracted with their baths…I asked you to sign some documents, medical advanced directives. You thought you were signing on only as a backup for your mom. Forgive me, my sweet girl, but that was not the truth. The documents you signed were to add you as co-owner of all my bank accounts and property.  When my attorney, Bernard, visits you (if he hasn’t already), he will have an itemized list and inform you of the total value. He’ll arrange for you to come to his office to receive all of the information and documentation regarding my estate, and that’s when you will see the documents you signed, Lennie.

Please do not be angry with me for my deception, nor your parents. They were not aware at the time of my plans and played no part in them. I wanted to make this transition as easy as possible for you, Lennie, while insuring some stability for your children’s future.

Everything is yours, Lennie…no conditions or ultimatums. I do, however, have one request. Please consider not telling Ranard about your inheritance. I know it’s wrong of me, but this I do not apologize for. Yes, he has shown that he’s capable of making a good living, but when it comes to being a true provider, his actions prove him lacking. Like you, I want Duncan and Myron to have a bright future, money for college, and stable roots. I feel if Ranard has access to your assets, he’ll selfishly blow right through them without thought to you and the boys. I don’t want you living on “what could have been”, not when there is something I could do to avoid that.

Of course, the decision is solely yours, Lennie Penny. Your parents will not interfere. I do apologize for being too much of a coward to discuss this with you face-to-face, but the hurt and mistrust I knew I’d see in your eyes would break me.

Continue to raise those boys as you are – with excitement and enthusiasm. Show them the joys of life, and find your joy, Lennie. Re-capture YOU.

Thank you for so many years of love, fun, and friendship, my sweet girl. Thank you for making me feel needed, and thank you for giving me a reason to live life when I felt I had no reason to go on.

Be happy, Lennie. BE HAPPY.

I love you,

Auntie Di

Her silent tears had turned to sobs before Lennie realized the sounds she heard were coming from her. A floodgate of emotions opened, and the weight was simply too much for Lennie to bear. The letter slipped from her hands as she slid to the floor and continued to cry.

Part II       Part IV

©Felicia Denise, 2016