Providence - Beginnings Part 3 by Andrea DiMaggio

There’s a suburb of the greater West Chester/Philadelphia area; you may have a similar town near where you live.

It’s called — Providence

Part Three - Intersections

Lainey locked the door and pocketed the key in her skirt. It was raining, so she pulled her shawl over her head and walked to her car. Diane was home already, cooking a nice meal for her and April and Mark and Erica and Marie. Her appetite had improved a little over the past few weeks, and she was looking forward to dinner; partly for the food, but mostly for the company of her wife, her “Mom” and her new friends.

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Tim Banfield staggered to his pickup at six-fifteen that evening after two hours of commiserating with his buddies over the fate of the Eagles defense, which had taken a hit when two of their best cornerbacks both went out with knee injuries last Saturday.

"Goddam shame...stupid pre-season." Tim didn't have much to cheer for. He had just found out his overtime was cut and his wife was "nagging" him to get help. His wife was actually a sweet and entirely forbearing woman who had put up with Tim's drinking and loud behavior for years. What she wanted was simple and necessary; Tim still was dealing with the guilt over his brother's suicide last year, and his anger had turned inward, like it does with most. He had two ulcers and his blood-pressure was through the roof. She just wanted him to get help.

After several minutes of driving through an unremarkable neighborhood down Bowman Avenue, Tim noticed a new renovation being done on the way home. He was distracted enough by the five beers and the scenery to miss the sharp turn in the road, and his pickup careened into a tree. He had tail-spun and the driver's side door was crushed against the old oak. He was too drunk and too injured to get out of the truck. The gas tank had ruptured, and the broken chassis had scraped against a large rock next to the tree, igniting the gas and the truck was in danger of being consumed. Tim pulled in vain against the broken seatbelt latch, and he passed out, just as a woman reached in from the passenger side to pull him out.

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Tim woke up at three-thirty-six AM, and fought back the stupor of the anesthesia to sit up. His head felt like it had been hit by a boulder. He slowly gained focus and noticed that his left leg was in a cast. He found out later that he had broken his tibia on impact. The pain in his left side told him that something was wrong; the nurse told him later that the doctor would be in to discuss the repair to his ruptured spleen. He looked to his left, and sleeping upright in a chair was his wife, who had held vigil throughout his surgery and into recovery before arriving at the ICU. He looked to his right and noticed through the partially drawn curtain a young woman resting fitfully in the bed next to his. A tall blond girl sat by her side, holding her hand and praying. She looked somewhat familiar, and he decided she looked like Kerri Walsh, the volleyball champ. The woman's right arm was wrapped in dressing to help with the healing of the burns; thankfully only on the wrist and only second degree. She had sustained a large cut over her left eye and a concussion when the truck had exploded, sending her into the ground as she had dragged Tim to safety. He noticed that the blond had been crying. After that he remembered little as the pain meds kicked in and he fell back into a restful sleep.

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Tim was transferred to the room the following day, with a discharge likely in two days after that. He noticed that the bed next to his was occupied by the same woman he had seen in ICU. She was sleeping quietly. The blond was sitting next to her once again, and she had been joined by another woman, dark haired, fiftyish who was stroking the woman's hair. She looked up and smiled at Tim. Had he a mirror handy, he would have seen the scowl on his face. He did, however, notice that the older woman continued smiling at him before the nurse came to give him his meds.

"Mr. Banfield, it's great seeing you looking better. Dr. Javrad will be in to see you this morning to discuss follow-up care while you continue to heal. Things are looking good, Mr. Banfield."

He had actually paid little attention to the nurse as his eyes were fixed on the women to his left.

"I thought they didn't mix men and women in rooms. Why the change?"

"I really shouldn't discuss this with you, Mr. Banfield. Let's just focus on your own care, shall we?" The nurse wasn't really trying to be abrupt; she just anticipated that he might not be satisfied with her answer.

"Seriously, what's she doing in my room?" He said, taking ownership of the room and preparing to exercise absolute dominion in his new kingdom. The blond turned around and looked at him with a glare. She wanted to hit Tim at that point since she was angry and upset over his insensitivity, but she bit her lip and remained quiet. The older woman looked straight at him and without batting an eye said,

"This room is as much HIS as it is yours!" Tim's eyes widened in indignation as he took in what the woman had just said.

"What do you mean HIS?" He spat. Diane McPherson was no one to be "spat" at, and she said calmly,

"I mean...my good friend here is recovering from her injuries." She smiled ever so slightly, evoking the following response.

"Oh...I get it. He's one of those..." He paused, took a breath for effect; and said, "Faggots!" By now the blond, you may remember April Colavito? Excuse me, April Colavito Esposito; had had enough, and it was a choice between biting her tongue right through or saying just what was on her mind, which she did.

"Shut the hell up, you moron!" She was almost in tears, quite uncharacteristic for her, but she was highly protective of her husband.

"What did you just say?" It was patently obvious to everyone; Diane, Tim’s wife, April, the nurse, the staff in the hallway; the staff down the hallway, everyone; what April just said. She repeated herself nonetheless.

"I said, shut the hell up you moron. This faggot, as you put it, is the girl who saved your life, you ungrateful bastard!" She turned and Diane grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. She was actually crying in front of other people; something April hadn't done since she was eleven years old. Diane pulled her into a hug and patted her back. The smile had not left Diane's face, and she looked once again at Tim before closing the curtain on their side. Tim's wife looked at him, took a deep breath, blinked out some tears of her own and said as Tim looked at her,

"I'll be at my mother's; give me a call when you're ready to come home." With that, she got up from her chair and walked out of the room.

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Lainey had been home from the hospital for two weeks, and had only just that day returned to the store. Her migraines had returned with a vengeance, owing more to stress, although the concussion didn't help. She was met by Diane at the door, who handed her a couple of gift cards from Shop-Rite, along with a bottle of Shiraz and a hug.

“Light duty, today, sweetheart.” Diane said, pointing to the recliner sitting at the back of the store. She had her son-in-law move it from the house to the store over the weekend, so that Lainey would have some company during the day without having to miss work. “You can supervise and look over the books for me,” Diane said, handing Lainey a laptop and a cup of Chamomile. April came in about nine-thirty with a delivery for Diane and a nice kiss for Lainey.

“I am so proud of you, honey,” April said. She had never been one for terms of endearment or physical displays of affection, but her love for Lainey had changed that. “I’ll swing by and pick you up about six or so. The coast is clear, by the way,” April said, using an old phrase. She had run interference for Lainey with the reporters after the accident. April had explained that they needed their privacy as a couple (Not COUPLE, if you follow me; they’d been out in public together enough not to care what anyone thought of them; Lainey just needed to rest.)

About eleven-fifteen, the door opened, and a woman about Diane’s age walked into the store.

“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” Diane said, and returned her attention to unpacking a box of hangers. The woman came up about ten minutes later with two blouses and a nice wool skirt.

“I just noticed this store last Friday. How long have you been here? “ The woman asked. Diane looked at her and wondered why she looked so familiar.

“Six years in August; we were at the mall for quite a while before that, but the rents were too high.” Diane said and tried not to stare, but the woman reminded her of someone. Just then, Lainey walked out from the back. The woman looked past Diane and said coldly,

“Eddie.” Lainey looked up and saw the woman and simply said,

“Mom.” Just “Mom,” before quickly walking into the storeroom. Lainey stayed in the back for the entire time her mother remained in the store. She couldn’t help but hear the back-and-forth debate going on between her mother and Diane, and she cried, harder than she had in months.

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“Mrs. Esposito, I want you to know that Lainey has been such a help to me.

“His name is Edward… why can’t you use his name?” She said, her face turning crimson.

“Lainey,” Diane made a point to use her name once again, “is your daughter. It is very upsetting that you didn’t even bother to visit her in the hospital.” Diane was losing patience with the woman.

“We… I…” She really had no excuse, but she tried to make one, anyway. “We’ve decided that as long as he insists on acting this way.”

“Acting… Mrs. Esposito? Your daughter nearly died saving the life of a stranger and all you can say is…” Diane didn’t get angry often. But when she did…

“Listen to me. Your daughter is one of the most caring, thoughtful people I know. She is brave… brave, Mrs. Esposito. I can’t understand how anyone… anyone can abandon their own child. She is precious to me, lady, and I will not allow you to…” The woman tried to interrupt, but Diane wouldn’t have it. She was in tears by now, but she continued.

“This girl needs her mother, and if you won’t do the right thing… If you can’t be a mother to your own child, then I will!” Diane said this and looked at Donna Esposito, waiting for an answer. When she received none, she picked up the clothing on the counter and put it in a store bag.

“I’ve changed my mind.” Mrs. Esposito said angrily. Diane grabbed the bag off the counter and walked around. She grabbed the woman by the arm, and before she knew it, Donna Esposito was standing outside on the sidewalk. Diane threw the bag at her feet and said,

“That’s okay. Fair exchange! The clothes for your daughter! And I’m the one getting the bargain!” She turned to walk back into the store, but stopped and turned once again.

“And by the way; all sales are final!” She turned again, by now crying angry tears. She walked into the store and slammed the door, breaking three panes of glass.

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The rest of the day was fairly uneventful until about three-thirty, when Julia Banfield came into the store accompanied by her husband Tim. As much as we’d expect Julia’s insistence as being the reason for the visit, it was actually Tim’s idea. The big man was on crutches, his leg in a cast. He walked gingerly up to Lainey, who was sitting in the recliner reading her Bible. Tim stopped and his wife gently touching his arm as if to offer encouragement.

“I… I wanted to thank you for…” His voice choked up, probably for the first time in his life, but he continued. “Thank you for saving me. I’ve been thinking….I’m sorry for what I said at the hospital. I’m sorry for what I did…” Tim was prepared to justify his behavior, but something changed as he looked at Lainey. Her face already expressed the forgiveness Tim had yet to ask for. “You remind me of him… of her,” he corrected himself. It was awkward, almost alien for Tim to refer to Billy as “her,” but after his near-death experience, things had changed… he had changed. Tears came to his eyes as the guilt and shame of his behavior toward his sister came back like a flood and would have engulfed him but for the hand on his arm.

“It’s okay, Mr. Banfield. I forgive you,” Lainey said through her own tears. “I think if Billy was here, she’d forgive you too.” Tim had not known that Billy Banfield was one of Lainey’s best friends in high school, and Lainey had been devastated at her death. It wasn’t just ironic that Lainey was the one driving by when Tim wrecked his truck. His rescue was one of …providence.

“Mr. Banfield,” Lainey said softly, but with authority nonetheless, “you’re forgiven.” In a way, at that moment, Lainey was a part of saving Tim Banfield for the second time .

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About a month later, Diane had Lainey and April over for their weekly pizza and wings. Things had settled down somewhat, but the two needed some “Mom” time and Diane was just the one to provide it.

“Who wants ice cream?” Diane called from the kitchen. The girls were sitting on the couch watching “My First Place” on cable. April waved and nodded, but Lainey didn’t respond. She didn’t eat any wings, and a slice of pizza sat on a paper plate on the table in front of her, untouched. She had little appetite the last few weeks; depression will do that to you. Despite Tim Banfield’s apology, Lainey felt poorly about herself. You may already know this; some people grow depressed over disappointment or failure. Some become depressed over a sad event or circumstance. Very few, but still all too many become depressed over a success or good circumstance. Lainey was sad and overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy despite being regarded as a hero by people she didn’t even know; it was too painful to realize that she was more appreciated by strangers than her own family.

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A few days later, Lainey and April sat on the couch in their living room while April finished a phone call. After hanging up, April looked over at Lainey with a grin and said.

“Lainey, honey, we need to talk.” It was a smiling “we need to talk,” which helped Lainey relax while April continued.

“Now you know I always use “she” and “her” when I refer to you, right?” Lainey nodded, but wondered where this was leading. “And you know that you’re my girl, right?” Lainey once again nodded, but said,

“Okay… and?”

“Well, we may have to re-think how we use a word or two…” April started to grin again, causing Lainey to say,

“What? What?” She became nervous, wondering what this was all about until April stated,

“Lainey, honey… you’re going to be a Daddy.” She smiled broadly and hugged Lainey while laughing joyfully.” Lainey pushed back gently and looked at April and asked again,

“What… what did you say?”

“Sweetie… I’m expecting…. You’re going to be a Daddy.” She smiled again. Lainey looked at her wife once again, took a deep breath… stared away for just a second and burst into tears. You will forgive the emotion of the moment. It would be nice to report that Lainey was overcome with joy; that would come much later. It would be understandable to report that she was overwhelmed by her ongoing depression. While that was part of it, it wasn’t why she wept. She buried her head in April’s shoulders and cried harder than she had in months because she was convinced that she would be the worst father in the world… ever.

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The next day, Lainey busied herself about the store, making a point to occupy herself enough so as to avoid any conversation with Diane. She had not wanted to talk about the baby, but April had called Diane the day before, partly to tell her the good news, and partly for advice and prayer concerning Lainey’s response. Diane noticed that Lainey was avoiding her, so she calmly walked to the front of the store. She locked the door and pulled down the shade, but not before putting the “closed” sign up in the window. She turned and walked to where Lainey was standing, her back turned away. She grabbed her and turned her around.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Diane asked, already knowing the answer. She had seen the same look on someone else years ago. Lainey looked at her and realized it would be pointless to deny it, so she said,

“Oh, Mom.” Diane smiled inside at the word. “I’m so scared.”

“Honey, you’re going to be okay. You’ll be just fine.” She smiled and hugged her again before saying,

“I think you’ll be a great father.” Diane walked to the stool behind the counter and grabbed her purse. Walking to the front once again, she unlocked the door and gestured back to Lainey to come.

“I think we need to take an early lunch, sweetie. And I know just what to serve. Tuna melt with tomato, raspberry iced tea and… hope!”

To be continued…