I felt my body collapsing from within. Nothing made any sense. I thanked the woman for her time and stumbled back to my car. There I sat, head churning with shock. What could have happened that Lisa would no longer be living at home and then cause her parents to move? More urgently, what the fuck did I do now? Driving back to my hotel, I picked up some takeout and a six-pack and called it a day.
The next day was Saturday, and my options were limited. I had a week off from work and needed to make the best use of my time. Using the phone book, I tried to remember the last names of some of her girlfriends, but came up blank. In retrospect, I realized I knew very little about Lisa or her family, and with zero leads to go on, I was already at a dead end.
By Sunday morning, I was desperate. There I sat in my underwear, drinking a warm beer and flipping through TV channels. That early in the morning it was nothing but news and educational TV with a smattering of religious shows. One channel showed a mass in progress, and my tired brain woke up. I do have another option, I thought. And hit the shower to make myself presentable.
An hour later, I was sitting in a pew, attending the morning service at Lisa’s church. She had talked so much about this place that I felt like I knew it before I even sat down. If anyone knew what happened with Lisa and her family, I would find them here.
Once services ended and the minister had worked the line of exiting parishioners, I approached him and introduced myself.
“Reverend Bates,” I said, extending my hand. “My name is Bill Sanders. I was hoping you could help me locate some friends of mine who attend your church.”
The Reverend smiled broadly and shook my hand. “Welcome to our church, Bill. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. What brings you to our services today?”
“Yes, this is my first time. I live out west now, but used to live around here. My friend told me so much about your church that I feel like I’ve visited here before.
“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Bill. So who is this family you’re asking about?”
“My friend’s name is Lisa. She and I worked at the same company last summer. Her last name is Gibson and her parents are Mark and Linda. Do you know them?”
At the mention of their names, I saw his face darken. He didn’t look mad exactly, but whatever he was feeling was painful. My gut clenched, knowing nothing he was about to say would improve things. I steeled myself for the bad news.
“So you’re the one,” he said almost too softly to hear. The one Lisa was desperately trying to find last fall. And the one who caused all the pain for so many people.”
“Pain?” I replied, feeling like a knife was twisting in my gut. “What pain? To who? For what? I’m sorry but I’m very much in the dark. Please tell me what happened.”
He shook his head and said, “Not out here, let’s go into my office, and I’ll pour us some coffee.”
I followed him through the large, sunlit church and down a hallway to what appeared to be the very back of the building. We walked into a modestly sized room, nicely outfitted with mahogany furniture and a well-worn Persian rug on the floor. It was elegant, if not a little past its prime. He motioned me to sit and filled two mugs with coffee from a large carafe. He settled his bulk into his swivel chair and looked at me, almost like he was assessing my worth.
“When was the last time you and Lisa spoke?” he began.
“That’s easy,” I replied. “Right after Labor Day last year when she finished up her internship before going back to school. The office threw a party for her, and I was able to meet her parents. They seemed like nice enough people. Lisa rode home with them, and that was the last time she and I saw each other.”
He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, looking sad. “Yes, her parents do make a nice appearance in public. Most folks who meet them find them friendly. But like too many families, they have a darker side, and Lisa was often the unfortunate recipient of their misguided interpretation of our faith.”
“Reverend, with all due respect, can you get to the point? You’re scaring me.”
“Fair enough. But let me ask one more question. What brings you back to our town after all this time?”
Now it was my turn to pause. Why I was here, was kind of private. But given that there seemed to be a mystery surrounding Lisa, it seemed silly not to come clean.
“On our last day, I made Lisa a promise that on the day after her graduation, I would meet her to see how we could make our relationship real. I love Lisa, and I’ve almost gone mad waiting for these months to pass.” My mouth was dry, so I paused to take a sip of the lukewarm coffee. “Shortly after we separated, I moved out west to take a new job and just flew back a few days ago to meet her. But she never showed and when I went to her house I found out the family had moved. Do you know what happened?”
He leaned forward in his chair, suddenly looking exhausted. He fiddled with his coffee mug before finally taking a long swallow. “In simplest terms,” he began, “the Gibson family imploded. When they found out what Lisa had done, they simply couldn’t accept it and banished her from their home. There was no trial, no defense, simply the decision of her parents. Mark Gibson tried to justify his actions by blaming our religion, but that was just self-serving BS. Our faith teaches compassion and forgiveness but he was having none of that and kicked her out like she was some wayward pet. It was disgusting.”
I was flabbergasted. What could Lisa have possibly done to deserve such treatment? But as the thought flashed through my mind, I realized with horror what might have occurred. It seemed unlikely, given all that I knew, but what else? Only one way to find out.
“What could have happened to Lisa to cause such a response from her parents?” I asked.
Now I saw him get angry. Clearly, he did not appreciate the question. He took several deep breaths, working to control his temper.
“I think the better question,” he spit out, “is what did you do to such a sweet girl to get her into trouble?”
It was then I knew. Somehow, someway, Lisa had gotten pregnant. Despite the timing and our rudimentary understanding of fertility, we had fucked up big time.
“Oh, no,” I said, covering my face in my hands. “Lisa’s pregnant?”
“No, she’s not pregnant, you idiot! She was pregnant. She gave birth almost three months ago to a premature little girl. And you were nowhere to be found when she desperately needed you!”
I started to get defensive. How would I have known what happened? But I quickly realized that anything I said would simply be deflecting blame onto Lisa, and the hard truth was that in our relationship, I was the adult and should have done better for her. Instead, I played with fire, and she paid the price.
“Okay, I’m sorry. This is a lot to take in all at once. So if she gave birth, where are Lisa and the baby? And why would her parents kick out their daughter and granddaughter?
He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking like he was about to unload another bombshell.
“Her parents refused to accept that she dared to have sex outside of marriage, so they banished her from the home. When local opinions were unhappy with their decision, they simply ran away, leaving poor Lisa behind.”
“So where did she go? Where are Lisa and the baby now?” I almost screamed at him.
He looked truly sad, like telling this tale was taking the last of his energy. “She was about three months pregnant when they forced her to leave. She’d dropped out of school and stayed with friends for the first few weeks. Eventually, she ended up in one of the shelters that our church maintains, where for a while she did well and had regular medical care.”
“What do you mean, for a while? What changed?”
Now he looked really pained, and I could see he truly cared about Lisa. He picked up a pen and made some mindless doodles on a tablet, seemingly to try and gather his thoughts.
“When Lisa couldn’t find you and when she learned her parents were planning to move, something broke inside her. She regularly missed curfew at the shelter and began hanging around with people who were bad news. She started drinking, even though she was well aware of the danger to her baby. The shelter put her on notice that she couldn’t stay if the bad behavior continued.”
“Wait, are you sure we are discussing the right person? The Lisa I knew was as straight and clean as anyone I’ve ever known. This sounds like someone else.”
He shook his head and grimaced. “Lisa Gibson. Short blonde hair? Cheerleader at Crest Academy for girls? The most beautiful blue eyes God has ever given one of his children? Is that the Lisa you knew?”
What little hope had just surged in me, collapsed at hearing his de***********ion. Of course, it was the same Lisa. I slumped even lower in my chair.
“Anyway, it wasn’t until the drugs started that the shelter had had enough. Regrettably, they had to discharge her as a bad influence on the other women. From there, she hit the streets doing God knows what, just to survive. I lost track of her for a while.”
“But what about her girlfriend’s homes? Surely, one of them had enough empathy to take her in.”
“She tried, hell, we all tried to convince them. But with the drinking and drug usage and the suspected prostitution, no one was willing to expose their own families to her downfall. As a Christian, it was a sorrowful time to see the utter lack of sympathy for this poor girl.”
“Prostitution?” I squeaked out. “Really?”
“As far as I’m concerned, that was just a rumor. But she was getting small amounts of cash from somewhere, so that’s what folks were saying.”
I was utterly defeated. My entire world had turned upside down. Still, it was nothing like what Lisa had experienced.
“So where are Lisa and the baby now? Where is my daughter?” I asked, fearing more bad news.
“Social Services took the baby at birth, declaring Lisa an unfit mother. Little Amy is with a foster family. As for Lisa, I’m not certain. Maybe another shelter, but most likely one of the homeless encampments around town. I’m sorry, but that’s everything I know.”
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