Page 66 of Everything We Thought Was True
When Frank came back into the apartment, Ricky wasn’t there. Frank broke down and cried, the force of the wails threatening to overtake him. So many losses. If this was cosmic payback for the way he’d betrayed Teresa, he deserved it.
Frank picked up the phone and dialed Teresa’s number. He couldn’t believe he was calling her, of all people. The betrayer reaching out to the betrayed. Yet somehow, he knew she wouldn’t turn her back on him.
He heard her voice on the other end of the phone say hello, and it sounded like home.
“Teresa, it’s me. I... I...” Frank whispered.
He couldn’t continue.What can I say? “My boyfriend cheated on me, and my world feels like it’s falling apart, and now I know what you must have felt every time I betrayed you”?
Frank felt foolish. He had no right to call her and expect her to console him. That wasn’t her role anymore.
“Frank? What’s wrong?” Teresa asked.
Frank sighed and slumped to the floor, cradling the phone in the crook of his neck. “I’m a mess, Teresa.” He shook his head. “I’m the one who caused all this. I set all this in motion.” He gasped. “I’m so sorry.” The tears flowed, and he couldn’t keep his voice steady.
“Frank, what happened? Talk to me.” Her voice was soft.
So he told her. He droned on and on, sitting on the floor of his apartment—the one that he’d just kicked his boyfriend out of—telling his ex-wife, whom he’d betrayed repeatedly, about how he was just betrayed and that he now knew what that had felt like for her.
He went further, admitting he was jealous of her new relationship with Larry even though he knew he didn’t have a right to be. He told her all the thoughts and fears swirling around in his mind. And she listened. Teresa remained calm, offering words of support. But when he told her he missed his kids and feared they would turn their backs on him the way Henry’s kids had, he heard her voice change and felt a shift in her demeanor.
“Frank, if you don’t want to lose your kids forever, you’ve got to change. I told you that years ago when you asked for my advice. Especially with Lena. Anthony’s already coming around. He’s making his way back to you. And I’m sure that’s partly because you make more of an effort with him. I know it’s easier with him being out of the police academy and Lena being busy at college. But that’s really just an excuse. This has been going on a while, Frank, between you and Lena. You’ve always spent more time with Anthony. And Lena strayed even further from you during her teenage years. I watched it happen and tried to step in when I could, but now it’s really up to you. You need to show up for both your kids, Frank. Make it a point to spend as much time with Lena as you do with Anthony. Try to let her really know you. Let her in. If you don’t want to lose her, give her your presence, which, honestly, was sorely lacking whenshe was a kid.”
Frank understood that Teresa was handing him a gift—the gift of truth, something he hadn’t given her for many, many years. He felt unworthy of it but grateful.
“Thank you. I will. I promise,” he said and meant it. He was ready to be the father he needed to be, at all costs. It was time to put his kids first.
“Okay,” she said with a note of finality. “I’ll let you go for now.” She hesitated. “Frank, I’m sorry about... you know. But I’m glad we talked.”
“Me too,” he said. “Thank you for being there.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Bye, Frank.”
He heard the phone click and placed it back on the receiver. Frank was heartbroken over what had happened with Ricky but also felt a renewed sense of hope. He had needed to talk to Teresa in order to move forward. He still needed her in his life. It was so much better with her in it. She was his anchor, and he felt afloat without her.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
FRANK - BRONX, NY
1988
Frank parked in the visitor spot in front of Lena’s residence hall on the Rose Hill campus of Fordham University. He stopped at the resident assistant’s desk and gave his name, showing his identification as required. He liked that the college had such strict security. It made him feel better about Lena living here. Not that he didn’t trust her. She had a rebellious streak, sure, but she also had a good head on her shoulders and took her studies seriously.
The RA buzzed him in, and he walked to suite 4A and knocked. No answer. He knocked again. “Lena, it’s me, Dad.” He heard some rustling inside and a groan.
What the hell?
“Lena, open up. It’s Dad. Come on.”
“It’s open.” Lena sounded far away, like she was in an echo chamber.
He opened the main door to the suite and walked into the shared living room. He could see Lena’s bedroom beyond that, with the door open and her suitcases and clothes hamper packed up, ready to go home for the winter break. She shared a double bedroom with a roommate, and two other girls shared the other double.
Not a bad setup for a group of college kids.
“I’m in here.” Her voice was hoarse, like she’d been using it too much or was exhausted. It was coming from the bathroom. The door was open, so he walked in, and there she was, sitting on the floor, leaning against the toilet.
“What the hell? Are you sick?” Frank asked.
