"Mom, we're going to go meet Frances." My son Blaise announced in the kitchen. He was picking up his keys and walking toward the door with his girlfriend Chloe.
"Wait, what?" they surprised me while I was busy making a Shepherd's Pie for dinner. I thought we were going to have a cozy little family dinner with the kids all home for once. I followed them toward the door. "Blaise, hold up. What's going on?" I was alarmed and I'm wondering why Frances would call Blaise out of the blue. "Blaise, don't trust her. She's not the little girl we knew. She's probably been brainwashed by her mother. She might have even put her up to this."
"Mom, it's okay. She just wants to talk. I talk to her sometimes, she's okay."Blaise tried to reassure me.
"Blaise, I just don't feel right about this. What if she tries to have you arrested or something?" I was maybe panicking a little bit here, but I really needed more time to digest this new development.
"Mom, Chloe is with me, it'll be okay. Don't worry. We'll be right back."Blaise said casually.
"Tell her we didn't forget about her. Tell her we tried to keep in touch." I had no choice but to accept that he was going.
"I know Mom, I'll try." and with that Chloe and Blaise drove away waving in his little blue Audi.
I thought back to those days after Frank inexplicably called Terry and said he didn't consider her his mother any longer. We were in a quandary. What to do about Frances and Eric's birthdays and what about Christmas? After talking it over with my sisters-in-law, we decided to go ahead with the annual pollyanna. I must admit that I was against it. We sent emails back and forth discussing the merits of including them or the reasons to exclude them. "Obviously they don't want anything to do with the Laytons, so why bother them", I reasoned. Vincent's wife insisted that they be included and wouldn't hear of it any other way. In the end we decided that the children shouldn't be punished for their parent's stupidity and we should send the message that they are still part of our family. That's only if Kat allows them to even know about our gifts though.
I sent birthday cards with no acknowledgement. Terry had sent Frances two beautiful necklaces for her birthday that had just passed. She said "I couldn't decide which one to get, the topaz or the opal, so I got both. They were just so pretty, I knew she would love them." Frances would often call Terry just to chat. Out of all Terry's grandchildren, Frances seemed to be the closest with her; I don't think any of the other children would call to say hello. Terry said, "I knew something was wrong when Frances didn't call after I sent the necklaces. I'm just so disappointed." Terry sent Christmas gifts that year anyway. She sent the usual Old Navy and Abercrombie gift cards not expecting, but hoping to hear from Frank's kids. I pulled Eric's name for the pollyanna. I didn't think we should send anything if they didn't want to have contact with us, but if I had to send something, I would do it right. I mailed a stereo system complete with CD player and speakers. I knew it was something Kat would never buy for him. I have to admit, I went extravagant to make myself look like the greatest aunt in the world.
Nothing came from Kat and Frank. Not a card, not a thank you, not a phone call. I predicted it would happen though and the more I thought about it the more dumb I felt. "I'll bet she either returned the stereo to the store or she just gave it to Eric from herself." I said to Matt. The following Christmas, I tried one more time. We didn't do pollyanna, but I just sent the children money in Christmas cards from our family. Again, there was no response and it was then that I decided not to continue attempting to include Frances and Eric.
I asked Frank what happened those years. He couldn't remember anything about the stereo or the necklaces, but he told me that Kat wouldn't allow the children to have anything from the Layton's. She intercepted all the mail and kept the money for herself and threw the cards away. I was pretty sure she would do that, but we had to try to take the higher road before assuming she would react the way we knew she would.
Blaise and Chloe, true to their word, were back pretty quickly. He said they met at a Starbucks. Blaise said "Mom, she just wanted to say hi. She said she remembers the pink sparkly jeans you bought her for her birthday. She said her mom made her return them though."
I huffed, "That just figures."
"Did you tell her about the Christmas and birthday gifts we sent?" I asked.
"Umm, no mom, I didn't get a chance." Blaise stated. I was disappointed. "Well, I just wanted her to know that we didn't forget about her and Grandma didn't either."
"Yeah, she asked about Grandma, she knew that she died. She asked if she could have one of those cards from her funeral." Blaise said.
"What was she like? Did it seem like she was prying for information?" I asked.
"No, it wasn't like that." Blaise was getting tired of my interrogation so I looked at Chloe for confirmation. Chloe reassured me that she seemed fine and her motives were not suspicious.
"I'm not paranoid, but the timing of this is kind of weird." I stated.
Nicholas Zinc, Frank's attorney filed for a hearing to request alimony from Kat. We haven't heard anything back though about the hearing being scheduled. The workers at the courthouse are supposed to file the papers and post a court date, but that was over a month ago and nothing has been scheduled as of yet, which we think is a little strange.
"Did she ask about her dad?" I continued my interrogation. "She asked if he had a job yet. I said he wasn't doing too good lately, forgetting words and such so he couldn't get a job. I asked her if she wanted to give him a note or anything and she said she didn't. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk about him." Blaise replied.
"Hmm, that's strange. I just can't figure this out." I said.
Did Frances want information about her dad, but was afraid of her mom finding out or was she on a scouting mission for her mom, or did she just really not care?
It was to remain a mystery, my only link to her wasn't able to find out.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
30: Endings
"I just want to know why I'm so tired." Terry said one day. "I've made an appointment with Dr. Stankey." Terry was not a small woman but she was very active. Especially after she moved into the senior community. There was swimming and water aerobics in the summer; she spent hours at the pool every day, as evidenced by her deep, dark tan. Besides the pool exercises there were friends, neighborhood gossip and most days everyone brought something to the clubhouse for light lunch. This summer Terry just wasn't feeling up to it though. Terry also had a three week cruise coming up with her sister in October and if there was anything wrong she wanted it taken care of before then. They traveled frequently, this time it was a 24 day South Pacific cruise leaving from Los Angeles. They would cruise to Hawaii, Samoa, Figi and fly home from Sydney. It sounded fabulous. Matt and I can only dream of the day when we can take a 24 day vacation.
Dr. Stankey put Terry in the hospital to run some tests. He must have known something wasn't right. He gave Terry the bad news. It was cancer. The oncologist felt that it had started in her intestine and spread to her liver. Surgery wasn't an option because it had spread throughout her abdomen. He did say she could start chemo and try to shrink it and prolong her life. After the first round of chemo she was weak, but said she felt fine. One afternoon while she was still in hospital Matt and I and Frank and Midge were visiting. A doctor showed up and asked Frank and Midge if they were family. I was about to speak up, but Midge beat me to it. "Yes, yes, we're family." she proclaimed loudly and assuredly. I was slightly annoyed at her forwardness, but we were still grateful that she was taking care of Frank, so now we're family.
Terry was in and out of the hospital alot that summer and she came to the harsh realization that she was going to have to cancel the cruise. She wasn't in pain so much but the weakness made it almost impossible for her to get out of bed. She eventually felt better going to a nursing home to try to regain some strength. The sad fact was that she wasn't going to get any better. One day I said to Matt, "I think you should be prepared. Tracey said your mom's cancer is pretty bad. She said she'll be gone by Christmas." Tracey was a good friend and a nurse who told me the plain truth that she probably only had a couple months after this diagnosis. I thought Matt should know, but he got quite angry at Tracey and me. "Why would she say that, how would she know?" "Matt, she's a nurse, she knows." I explained gently. "She doesn't know shit and she should mind her own business." Matt said angrily.
Sadly, Tracey's prediction was correct, she only lasted about three months after diagnosis. After Matt's brother's traveled to town for one last visit, Terry passed away.
This was also the end of Frank and Midge's relationship. For some unexplained reason, Midge felt that she was in competition with Frank's brothers for his attention. He spent Terry's final weekend with his brothers at the hospital or at our house. It was a sad time, but they seemed to enjoy being together. The day after Terry died Midge called our house to speak to Frank and began screaming at him for not spending time with her. I could hear her yelling but I couldn't hear what she was saying. I picked up the extension with the intention of helping Frank out. "Midge, what's up?" I asked. "Susie . . . " Midge was crying. Not for Terry or for Frank's loss, but for herself. "I just need him here. I didn't know where he was." "Midge, he's with his brothers. Their mother just passed away. What's wrong with you?" I heard sobbing sounds but continued. "Frank was spending time with his brother's, there's nothing wrong with that. Their mother just died and all you can think of is yourself." I was angry and probably went a little too far. I meant well, but couldn't help myself at her absurdity. She hung up on me. The next day she broke up with Frank and handed Matt a bill for about two thousand dollars worth of his share of gas bills, groceries and McDonald's meals.
Monday, December 24, 2012
29: A Fool and His Money Are Soon Parted
Now that Frank was receiving medical coverage through Social Security we could arrange for some medical care. Midge insisted that Frank's problems were all due to depression. She arranged an appointment at a mental health clinic where she was being treated. The psychiatrist that Frank saw at the clinic was familiar to Matt. He had spoken to him on a professional basis many times and thought he seemed like a caring, competent person. The doctor put Frank on Zoloft and recommended monthly appointments. Since stroke is listed as the primary cause of aphasia, we made an appointment at a medical doctor and asked to have Frank evaluated for mini-stroke. He was given an MRI which appeared normal, although the gaps in the brains that cause dementia can only be seen on autopsy. This only meant that his cognitive problems were not caused by a stroke.
As Frank and Midge began spending more time together, Matt and I felt a little of the burden lifted from us. But as I predicted money was becoming an issue. I don't know if Frank thought he was independently wealthy or if it was due to his impaired judgement, but money was running through his fingers like water. We don't know where the money was going, but Frank seemed to be at our door asking for more money quite often.
Matt was the rep payee for Frank's benefits. It was his responsibility to pay Frank's bills, dole out spending money and try to keep some money aside for savings. After giving Frank his spending money for the week, he would be knocking on the door early in the morning asking for more money at least three times a week. One evening around 10:30 at night, we heard a tapping on the family room window at the back of the house. It was a little scary, we were almost afraid to look and see who it was. It was Frank. He said he lost his keys.
Matt said, "Frank, why didn't you just ring the doorbell?"
Frank replied, "I didn't know if you were still up." So to him it made sense to knock on the window. He was also at our door almost every morning. I am always the first awake, on school days, at 6AM. It wasn't unusual to find Frank waiting outside the back patio door when I came into the kitchen. The first couple times, I must admit, I was a little freaked out. Just out of bed, in my pajamas and finding a big guy in an orange hunting jumpsuit outside. I'm not sure where the orange jumpsuit came from but it became the target of alot of giggles and jokes around our house, mostly from my children. Brett became quite good at imitating Frank's mannerisms and speech patterns and had us in stitches with his comical impersonation. Usually only when Matt wasn't home. We learned to keep our giggling to ourselves as Matt didn't seem to like us finding humor in our situation. He said to Brett, "You know, I just don't think it's funny. I think it's not right to laugh at him." one evening after Frank left and Brett began putting on his Rich Little impersonation act. The boys are more likely to find the humor in the situation than feel empathy, and I couldn't disagree because the alternative is to ignore it and pretend it wasn't happening or feel sad. I think it's much healthier to laugh, just not until he left.
"What is he doing with all this money?" I asked Matt one day. "I don't know, but the last time I was over there he had bags of new socks and underwear, about ten new baseball caps, tee shirts with the tags still on. Just lots of stuff." Matt answered. "I guess he's bored." The next time Frank came over I asked him. "Frank, does Midge ask you for money?" "Uh, you know, uh, we go out to lunch. She pays for gas and I pay for lunch sometimes." Frank responded. "Do you know how much money is in your wallet? Have you ever noticed any money missing?" I asked him. "Uh, no," Frank responded.
There really wasn't any point in asking because I didn't feel he was being truthful anyway. Either he didn't know, or he didn't know what I was talking about, or he was being evasive, I couldn't tell. But either way, there was something going on with the money. Frank did tell us that he and Midge began having arguments about money. Midge resented Matt's control of Frank's finances and felt he had too much input in Frank's life. Frank said he felt that he had to defend Matt after all Matt had done for him and this was the source of the conflict. A fool and his money are soon parted comes to mind.
As Frank and Midge began spending more time together, Matt and I felt a little of the burden lifted from us. But as I predicted money was becoming an issue. I don't know if Frank thought he was independently wealthy or if it was due to his impaired judgement, but money was running through his fingers like water. We don't know where the money was going, but Frank seemed to be at our door asking for more money quite often.
Matt was the rep payee for Frank's benefits. It was his responsibility to pay Frank's bills, dole out spending money and try to keep some money aside for savings. After giving Frank his spending money for the week, he would be knocking on the door early in the morning asking for more money at least three times a week. One evening around 10:30 at night, we heard a tapping on the family room window at the back of the house. It was a little scary, we were almost afraid to look and see who it was. It was Frank. He said he lost his keys.
Matt said, "Frank, why didn't you just ring the doorbell?"
Frank replied, "I didn't know if you were still up." So to him it made sense to knock on the window. He was also at our door almost every morning. I am always the first awake, on school days, at 6AM. It wasn't unusual to find Frank waiting outside the back patio door when I came into the kitchen. The first couple times, I must admit, I was a little freaked out. Just out of bed, in my pajamas and finding a big guy in an orange hunting jumpsuit outside. I'm not sure where the orange jumpsuit came from but it became the target of alot of giggles and jokes around our house, mostly from my children. Brett became quite good at imitating Frank's mannerisms and speech patterns and had us in stitches with his comical impersonation. Usually only when Matt wasn't home. We learned to keep our giggling to ourselves as Matt didn't seem to like us finding humor in our situation. He said to Brett, "You know, I just don't think it's funny. I think it's not right to laugh at him." one evening after Frank left and Brett began putting on his Rich Little impersonation act. The boys are more likely to find the humor in the situation than feel empathy, and I couldn't disagree because the alternative is to ignore it and pretend it wasn't happening or feel sad. I think it's much healthier to laugh, just not until he left.
"What is he doing with all this money?" I asked Matt one day. "I don't know, but the last time I was over there he had bags of new socks and underwear, about ten new baseball caps, tee shirts with the tags still on. Just lots of stuff." Matt answered. "I guess he's bored." The next time Frank came over I asked him. "Frank, does Midge ask you for money?" "Uh, you know, uh, we go out to lunch. She pays for gas and I pay for lunch sometimes." Frank responded. "Do you know how much money is in your wallet? Have you ever noticed any money missing?" I asked him. "Uh, no," Frank responded.
There really wasn't any point in asking because I didn't feel he was being truthful anyway. Either he didn't know, or he didn't know what I was talking about, or he was being evasive, I couldn't tell. But either way, there was something going on with the money. Frank did tell us that he and Midge began having arguments about money. Midge resented Matt's control of Frank's finances and felt he had too much input in Frank's life. Frank said he felt that he had to defend Matt after all Matt had done for him and this was the source of the conflict. A fool and his money are soon parted comes to mind.
Friday, December 21, 2012
28: It's Just a Bad Dream
"Matt, I wonder if you could come over and help me out, it's just so hard not having a man around sometimes." It was Kat calling. Matt was a little taken aback by this second call from Kat, but he felt that if he cooperated and was friendly, that he and Kat could work out the problems that Frank never could seem to get settled.
"Sure Kat, what do you need?" Matt asked in a friendly tone.
"Oh, there's just some things around here that need fixing, just a few little things. It would be a great favor if you could come over." said Kat trying to sound vulnerable.
"How about Saturday, one o'clock okay?" Matt asked. "Oh, that would be great. Thanks Matt, see you then." Kat finished.
"Again, are you crazy?" I lost it on Matt. "She's up to something, why can't you see it?"
"Susie, no, she needs some help, that's all. I don't mind going over there. Why do you always think the worst?" Matt was annoyed at me.
"I know her and you should too. I'll say it again; she's up to something. If you're going, I'm going. There's no way I'm going to let you go over to that house alone." I insisted.
"Fine, have it your way." Matt said blandly.
On Saturday, we went over to Kat's house and she greeted us at the door. She seemed surprised that I was there too, and she focused mainly on Matt. She was exceptionally nice to him and smiled alot at him. She played the innocent, dumb girl role who needed help from a big strong man, which I knew was fake because there was nothing dumb or innocent about Kat. We entered the house and Kat's mother, Mrs. Green came out from the kitchen and said hello to us. My heart sunk even further because as evil as I perceived Kat to be, I know she was just apprenticing at her mother's side. It was Mrs. Green who was the source of the chaos in their married lives.
Kat said "First thing I want to show you Matt is upstairs. The lights keep blinking and I'm wondering if there's something wrong with the plug." Matt followed Kat upstairs and the body language let me know that I wasn't invited. I entered the kitchen where Mrs. Green was washing dishes. There was a tiny chihuaua on the floor that began growling at me. I ignored it, but it escalated to biting my pant leg. I yelled at the dog, but that only made it more angry and it was trying to bite my ankle. I picked the dog up and put it in the cellar door and shut the door. Mrs. Green became very angry and said "Don't you ever touch my dog! How dare you touch my dog!" while she began attacking me, hitting and smacking me. At the same time I had this brilliant realization that the entire thing was a set-up, but I messed it up by showing up with Matt. Kat knew that Matt had taken control over Frank's divorce. She couldn't control Matt the way she could Frank, so there was only one thing to do. Get rid of him. The whole thing was a brilliant scheme to have Matt be "accidentally" electrocuted. I began desperately screaming and trying to escape Mrs. Green's clutches, "MATT, NO! MATT!"
Then I woke up.
I think I had actually woken myself up with the yelling. I looked at Matt next to me in bed and I was furious at him. "See what you did?" I was actually out of breath. It took a few seconds for me to realize that it was just a dream, because it was the most vivid, realistic, detailed dream I have ever had.
Matt rolled over and looked at me, "What?" he said.
"I can't believe what an idiot you are." I looked at him "You won't believe the dream I just had. If I was writing Frank's story for a Lifetime Channel movie, this would be the ending. Kat and Mrs. Green being led out in handcuffs."
"You're nuts, can I go back to sleep?" Matt pulled the blanket up and closed his eyes again.
"Sure Kat, what do you need?" Matt asked in a friendly tone.
"Oh, there's just some things around here that need fixing, just a few little things. It would be a great favor if you could come over." said Kat trying to sound vulnerable.
"How about Saturday, one o'clock okay?" Matt asked. "Oh, that would be great. Thanks Matt, see you then." Kat finished.
"Again, are you crazy?" I lost it on Matt. "She's up to something, why can't you see it?"
"Susie, no, she needs some help, that's all. I don't mind going over there. Why do you always think the worst?" Matt was annoyed at me.
"I know her and you should too. I'll say it again; she's up to something. If you're going, I'm going. There's no way I'm going to let you go over to that house alone." I insisted.
"Fine, have it your way." Matt said blandly.
On Saturday, we went over to Kat's house and she greeted us at the door. She seemed surprised that I was there too, and she focused mainly on Matt. She was exceptionally nice to him and smiled alot at him. She played the innocent, dumb girl role who needed help from a big strong man, which I knew was fake because there was nothing dumb or innocent about Kat. We entered the house and Kat's mother, Mrs. Green came out from the kitchen and said hello to us. My heart sunk even further because as evil as I perceived Kat to be, I know she was just apprenticing at her mother's side. It was Mrs. Green who was the source of the chaos in their married lives.
Kat said "First thing I want to show you Matt is upstairs. The lights keep blinking and I'm wondering if there's something wrong with the plug." Matt followed Kat upstairs and the body language let me know that I wasn't invited. I entered the kitchen where Mrs. Green was washing dishes. There was a tiny chihuaua on the floor that began growling at me. I ignored it, but it escalated to biting my pant leg. I yelled at the dog, but that only made it more angry and it was trying to bite my ankle. I picked the dog up and put it in the cellar door and shut the door. Mrs. Green became very angry and said "Don't you ever touch my dog! How dare you touch my dog!" while she began attacking me, hitting and smacking me. At the same time I had this brilliant realization that the entire thing was a set-up, but I messed it up by showing up with Matt. Kat knew that Matt had taken control over Frank's divorce. She couldn't control Matt the way she could Frank, so there was only one thing to do. Get rid of him. The whole thing was a brilliant scheme to have Matt be "accidentally" electrocuted. I began desperately screaming and trying to escape Mrs. Green's clutches, "MATT, NO! MATT!"
Then I woke up.
I think I had actually woken myself up with the yelling. I looked at Matt next to me in bed and I was furious at him. "See what you did?" I was actually out of breath. It took a few seconds for me to realize that it was just a dream, because it was the most vivid, realistic, detailed dream I have ever had.
Matt rolled over and looked at me, "What?" he said.
"I can't believe what an idiot you are." I looked at him "You won't believe the dream I just had. If I was writing Frank's story for a Lifetime Channel movie, this would be the ending. Kat and Mrs. Green being led out in handcuffs."
"You're nuts, can I go back to sleep?" Matt pulled the blanket up and closed his eyes again.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
27: Unexpected Phone Call
"Matt, phone for you. Sounds like a personal call." May, a co-worker, called out from across the office.
Matt pressed the button on his earset, "Hello, may I help you?" "Hi Matt, it's me, Kat."
That took a second or two to digest. He hadn't spoken to Kat in five years and this is someone we had once been fairly close to. "Kat . . . hi. What's up?" Matt tried to keep his voice even and calm.
"Umm, I know you're probably thinking alot of bad things about me and I just wanted to clear some things up." Kat stated. "Kat, I'm not thinking anything about you, I'm just trying to help my brother." Matt said plainly. "I know, but I wanted you to know that I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Frank did. I couldn't believe he did it actually. So, I didn't really have any choice." Kat seemed a little tense.
"Well, if you think you're still divorcing Frank, you're wrong; you're divorcing me now. He isn't capable of handling the case any longer. I guess you got the letter from social security." Matt stated calmly. The letter Kat got stated that Frank is considered disabled, and can no longer be employed, so social security would be taking care of child support for Eric and Frances. "Yeah, actually the extra money helps alot." Kat said gratefully. "How are the kids?" Matt asked "They're fine, they were actually really angry at me for a while. They kept asking why I did it . . . why I threw him out. They thought it was all my fault. Especially Frances, she cried for days. After a while it got easier though and they realized that we were much better off. You know, Frank got angry alot. Sometimes he would vacuum and he would start throwing the vacuum cleaner around. He even broke a few that way." Kat thought she was sounding sympathetic. "Kat, I need to ask you something. Did you ever notice a change in Frank's behavior? He's losing his ability to speak, and I'm wondering how long this has been going on for?" Matt asked. "After he lost his job at AT&T he laid on the couch alot. He actually slept there every night too. He just never got up; or sometimes he would go up in the attic and just sit and look out the window, for hours." Kat explained. Matt needed to ask this burning question, "What happened that day he called my mom and said he didn't consider her his mother any more? Do you know why he did that?" "You know, I heard him on the phone, but I didn't know what he was talking about. We didn't talk about it ahead of time or anything." Kat said in a higher, more shallow tone. "Well Matt, I just wanted you to know that I'm not the bad guy here, Frank started it."
"Okay Kat. I know my brother can be difficult. He's not always the easiest guy to get along with." Matt said honestly. "But still, I don't think he deserved this. He's desperate to see his kids again."
"Well, they're fine and they really don't ask about him any more. You know, Frank has been really dragging this divorce out. He just wouldn't settle it and it's getting very expensive. We need to finish this because Frances will be going to college next year and I'd like this settled when we have to apply for financial aid." Kat explained reasonably. Matt suddenly felt like they could work together to end this struggle once and for all. "Sounds good Kat, I'd be happy to have this over with too. Five years is too long to fight over nothing." Matt said.
"Alright, listen, I've got to get back to work, but good talking to you." Matt finished
"Alright, bye." Kat hung up.
Matt needed a few hours to ruminate on this conversation. Her argument about needing to settle the divorce soon sounded like a positive development, and if it was it would be the first positive thing to happen.
Matt came home and told me about his conversation with Kat. He said he kind of felt sorry for her because he knew Frank could be hard to get along with sometimes. I said, "Are you kidding? You mean you bought her whole story?" I asked incredulously.
"Well, yeah. The part about Frances needing financial aid and all. It sounds reasonable." Matt explained. "No, she didn't call you to be friendly, she called you for a reason, but it's not what you're thinking. She knows you are running the show now and she's trying to get your sympathy. That girl is a viper, she has no soul. You know what she's done to Frank. She's turned him inside out. And why? Why you ask? Because he was mean to the . . . vacuum cleaner?? I wish you ran the vacuum cleaner. You don't even know where we keep it." I shouted half-joking, but mostly serious.
"Oh, and the part about how she just happened to be nearby when Frank called your mom, but she didn't know anything about it. Really? How could you buy that one? You know she put him up to it, and she was right there feeding him lines. That had her written all over it. " I needed to calm down.
"Come on Susie, you're being too harsh. She's not that bad." Matt tried to reassure me.
"Oh please. I don't buy a single word of it. How about the kids. I've heard Eric ask about his dad when he talks to Brett over XBox Live. One time Brett asked him if he wanted to talk to his dad because Frank was here and Eric said he was afraid his mom would find out and he would be in trouble." I said. "Oh, I don't know about that." Matt replied skeptically. "It's true. Brett told me." I answered.
"Listen, she always was a liar, and she still is. Do not buy what she's selling you." I said strongly.
"Alright Susie, you're always right." Matt said sarcastically.
Here we go again getting angry over battles that aren't even ours.
I thought to myself, "Just wait till she gets Nicholas Zinc's letter."
Matt pressed the button on his earset, "Hello, may I help you?" "Hi Matt, it's me, Kat."
That took a second or two to digest. He hadn't spoken to Kat in five years and this is someone we had once been fairly close to. "Kat . . . hi. What's up?" Matt tried to keep his voice even and calm.
"Umm, I know you're probably thinking alot of bad things about me and I just wanted to clear some things up." Kat stated. "Kat, I'm not thinking anything about you, I'm just trying to help my brother." Matt said plainly. "I know, but I wanted you to know that I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Frank did. I couldn't believe he did it actually. So, I didn't really have any choice." Kat seemed a little tense.
"Well, if you think you're still divorcing Frank, you're wrong; you're divorcing me now. He isn't capable of handling the case any longer. I guess you got the letter from social security." Matt stated calmly. The letter Kat got stated that Frank is considered disabled, and can no longer be employed, so social security would be taking care of child support for Eric and Frances. "Yeah, actually the extra money helps alot." Kat said gratefully. "How are the kids?" Matt asked "They're fine, they were actually really angry at me for a while. They kept asking why I did it . . . why I threw him out. They thought it was all my fault. Especially Frances, she cried for days. After a while it got easier though and they realized that we were much better off. You know, Frank got angry alot. Sometimes he would vacuum and he would start throwing the vacuum cleaner around. He even broke a few that way." Kat thought she was sounding sympathetic. "Kat, I need to ask you something. Did you ever notice a change in Frank's behavior? He's losing his ability to speak, and I'm wondering how long this has been going on for?" Matt asked. "After he lost his job at AT&T he laid on the couch alot. He actually slept there every night too. He just never got up; or sometimes he would go up in the attic and just sit and look out the window, for hours." Kat explained. Matt needed to ask this burning question, "What happened that day he called my mom and said he didn't consider her his mother any more? Do you know why he did that?" "You know, I heard him on the phone, but I didn't know what he was talking about. We didn't talk about it ahead of time or anything." Kat said in a higher, more shallow tone. "Well Matt, I just wanted you to know that I'm not the bad guy here, Frank started it."
"Okay Kat. I know my brother can be difficult. He's not always the easiest guy to get along with." Matt said honestly. "But still, I don't think he deserved this. He's desperate to see his kids again."
"Well, they're fine and they really don't ask about him any more. You know, Frank has been really dragging this divorce out. He just wouldn't settle it and it's getting very expensive. We need to finish this because Frances will be going to college next year and I'd like this settled when we have to apply for financial aid." Kat explained reasonably. Matt suddenly felt like they could work together to end this struggle once and for all. "Sounds good Kat, I'd be happy to have this over with too. Five years is too long to fight over nothing." Matt said.
"Alright, listen, I've got to get back to work, but good talking to you." Matt finished
"Alright, bye." Kat hung up.
Matt needed a few hours to ruminate on this conversation. Her argument about needing to settle the divorce soon sounded like a positive development, and if it was it would be the first positive thing to happen.
Matt came home and told me about his conversation with Kat. He said he kind of felt sorry for her because he knew Frank could be hard to get along with sometimes. I said, "Are you kidding? You mean you bought her whole story?" I asked incredulously.
"Well, yeah. The part about Frances needing financial aid and all. It sounds reasonable." Matt explained. "No, she didn't call you to be friendly, she called you for a reason, but it's not what you're thinking. She knows you are running the show now and she's trying to get your sympathy. That girl is a viper, she has no soul. You know what she's done to Frank. She's turned him inside out. And why? Why you ask? Because he was mean to the . . . vacuum cleaner?? I wish you ran the vacuum cleaner. You don't even know where we keep it." I shouted half-joking, but mostly serious.
"Oh, and the part about how she just happened to be nearby when Frank called your mom, but she didn't know anything about it. Really? How could you buy that one? You know she put him up to it, and she was right there feeding him lines. That had her written all over it. " I needed to calm down.
"Come on Susie, you're being too harsh. She's not that bad." Matt tried to reassure me.
"Oh please. I don't buy a single word of it. How about the kids. I've heard Eric ask about his dad when he talks to Brett over XBox Live. One time Brett asked him if he wanted to talk to his dad because Frank was here and Eric said he was afraid his mom would find out and he would be in trouble." I said. "Oh, I don't know about that." Matt replied skeptically. "It's true. Brett told me." I answered.
"Listen, she always was a liar, and she still is. Do not buy what she's selling you." I said strongly.
"Alright Susie, you're always right." Matt said sarcastically.
Here we go again getting angry over battles that aren't even ours.
I thought to myself, "Just wait till she gets Nicholas Zinc's letter."
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
26: Driving With Midge
Pat was keeping Frank busy. Every day Pat woke up Frank at 3am to help deliver newspapers. Pat would drive and Frank would hand Pat the papers to throw out the car window. On Sunday morning they went to the warehouse and Frank would put the inserts in the newspapers. Pat would give Frank a few dollars off his rent in exchange. It was here in the warehouse that Frank met Midge. I imagine their eyes met across the bins full of papers and advertisements, eventually they reached for the same ad at the same time and Midge sweetly said "Hi, I haven't seen you around here before." and Frank said "I couldn't help but notice you, want to go out for coffee later?" But I only know Pat told us that they were quite an item at the warehouse.Actually they were a match made in heaven. Frank barely spoke and Midge never stopped speaking. She was ten years older than Frank and looked like the kind of woman you would imagine delivered newspapers for a living. No fuss, not fancy, just a plain old girl with sweatpants, sneakers and no makeup. Frank brought her over to meet us one day and I actually heard her before I saw her. She literally never stopped talking. Frank just sat there smiling proudly at her. He thought she was the greatest thing that ever happened and Midge felt the same. Separately they both told me how they felt. Frank said one day, extraordinarily articulately for him, "I know she's not much to look at and I know she's a little older, but there's one thing about her . . she's nice to me . . . and I'm not used to that. And boy can she cook. Everything she makes is sooo good." "Aww Frank, that's nice, I'm glad you're happy. You deserve some happiness." I replied. I was happy, but I also felt such sadness for him that he didn't know what it was like for someone that supposedly loved you to be nice to you too.
A few weeks later was my son's graduation from high school. I planned a big outdoor event with lots of friends and family. Frank brought Midge as his guest. They sat together at a picnic table under a shady tree and Frank was simply beaming. Midge said to me "Can you believe this guy? Just look at him! Who would throw this away. I can't believe how lucky I am to have found him." Then she went on to tell me a story about how they were at the grocery store and the checker said to her "It's so nice that your son helps you shop for groceries." Midge replied to her "He's not my son, he's my boyfriend!" Everyone at the table laughed, including Frank. As annoying as we found her non-stop chattering, Frank's condition seemed to improve. He seemed brighter, happier and more socially engaged. They began spending more and more time together and Frank began helping Midge with her newspapers, traveling around in the early morning hours scavenging trash for treasures together. Frank began bringing home snow blowers and lawn mowers, vacuum cleaners and air conditioners. He was enjoying having projects to tinker with.
Frank was approved for Social Security Disability. We received a phone call for Matt and Frank to come into the office for a meeting. I would like to think it was because of the letter writing campaign I organized on his behalf, but it was probably due to the psychologist report stating exactly how severe Frank's Aphasia condition was. Matt had to become Frank's power of attorney and representative payee. This means that they didn't consider Frank competent to handle the money he would be receiving so the checks would come to Matt and he would disburse it to Frank and pay his bills for him. As much as a blessing this money was to him and us, as we no longer had to pay his rent and expenses, I was also worried. I know how people can get when there is money between them, especially when that person has a personality disorder. I said to Matt, "I just hope that Frank doesn't get paranoid and think we're stealing his money or something." Matt, as usual, said "Don't worry about it, I'm handling it all."
As Frank and Midge began spending more time together, Midge felt that she should have some control over Frank's finances. She called Matt one day and said "Matt, Frank and I are together now and we think his checks should be mailed to me." Immediately, she had Matt's attention. "Midge, you've only known Frank a couple months, I've known Frank his whole life. I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I think it's best if I handle the finances for Frank."
Midge seemed to take it personally and became a little more distant after that.
25: FTD Symptoms Mimic DUI
"Hello, this is Officer Adamski with the Chester Police Department. Is this Matthew Layton?"
"Yes, yes it is. Is everything okay?" Matt asked.
Matt and I had just walked in the door from going out to dinner and a movie. We saw Star Trek, then went out for burgers at Ruby Tuesday. We came home and my sons had a couple friends over and we were just chatting about the movie when the phone rang. Who would be calling at 10:30 at night I wondered? It's never good news.
"We have your brother Francis here on suspicion of DUI. You'll need to come get him." the officer stated. "Uh, okay, do you have an address?" Matt grabbed a pencil. "It may take us awhile, we're about an hour away." Matt said frankly.
"What in the world is he doing in Chester? There's nothing good in Chester. I cannot believe this." I said. I was annoyed after just coming home from having a pleasant evening out, then having to go bail Frank out. Not to mention, it's embarrassing to me for my children to hear this and know their uncle is arrested and for their friends to hear. I can't always bring it up, but so many times I just wished we hadn't gotten involved in Frank's life, but at the same time I wonder what would have happened to him and where he would be if we hadn't.
Matt and I talked in the car on the way there. "I'm not Frank's wife or his mother, and I'm getting tired of feeling like both. You know, if Kat won't sign those divorce papers and hand over Frank's settlement money, then she can start taking care of him. I feel like dropping him off at her house. We have to ask her to pay alimony, they're still married and he should be her responsibility, not ours." I stated. "In sickness and health." Matt agreed
"What would you do if it were me?" Matt asked playfully. "Uhh, if it were you? You'd be in a nursing home by now, buddy." I giggled. "You mean you wouldn't change my Depends?" Matt laughed.
"I don't do windows . . . or Depends!" I retorted.
We got off the exit of route 476 at Chester and followed the GPS to the police station. It was 11:30 at night and the streets looked like total mayhem. There were gangs of thugs crossing in the middle of streets not even looking out for traffic. There was another gang of scary looking individuals walking down the other side street. It just looked completely lawless to me, and very frightening. "Oh my gosh, let's just get out of here as fast as we can." I said to Matt. There were a series of one-way, hilly, curvy, narrow streets that were like a maze before we finally found the police station. We pulled into the station parking lot and went inside. There were two cops at the entrance. We introduced ourselves and Officer Adamski came over. He said "He was going the wrong way down a one-way street." Matt and I look at each other and silently thinking that this is not actually surprising since we almost did the same thing. "He said he was lost. He seemed confused, so I asked him to get out of the car. I proceeded to perform a field sobriety check on him and he failed each one. I asked him to say the alphabet backward, and he could not do it. Then I asked him to walk heel-to-toe for nine steps then turn and come back. I had to repeat the instruction twice before he attempted it and then he took fifteen steps before I had to tell him to come back, then he proceeded to run back toward me." "Oh my God, I don't know what to say. We're having him evaluated for some cognitive problems, but we don't know what's wrong." Matt said. "We've taken a blood sample and we'll process it through the mail so you can take him now." Officer Adamski was actually nice. It seemed he thought Frank was DUI, but wasn't being a jerk about it. Then the other officer opened the door and Frank came through. He looked tired and disheveled. I just looked at him with disapproval and he shook his head at me, kind of in shame and frustration. "C'mon Frank, let's go home." Matt said.
After we got in the car, Frank said, "I went to the Phillies game tonight. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer and I was talking to this guy all night. I only had one beer, I swear. I left in the eighth inning to get a jump on traffic. I was going down Broad Street, I was near where . . . your son lives . . . you know by . . . umm, Temple. Then I got lost. I ended up in here and that's what happened." "You weren't at Kat's house were you?" I asked skeptically because, I'm not that good at geography, but I don't know how you start out at Citizens Bank Park and end up in Chester. Chester is actually closer to Kat's house.
"No, I was feeling kind of sad, so I went to the game, and then I got lost." Frank said again.
"It's okay Frank, don't worry." Matt said. Frank actually did look really bad. I guess the stress of not knowing where you are and getting arrested took it's toll. He didn't say another word the next hour until we dropped him off. I don't know if he was asleep or just numb. He shuffled into the house with barely a word of thanks or a goodnight.
The next day Matt tried to get Frank's car back from the tow truck driver. It was Sunday and he could see someone was in the office in the parking lot, but the man inside said they were closed and he would have to come back on Monday to get the car back. Matt tried to argue that if they are charging a daily rate to leave the car there, we should be able to pick up the car or not be charged for the days that the office is closed. The guy said, "Come back tomorrow, what don't you understand about closed." It seems they are open to accept newly towed cars, but they're not open to get your car out. Matt had to go before work Monday morning, park the car on the street, then go back later with me and pick it up. Four hours of driving back and forth because Frank loved the Phillies.
We called an old friend of Frank's, an attorney, to deal with this new issue. Guy Newman is a big, tall friendly man with a brilliant head of snow white hair. He reminds me of Leslie Nielsen in many ways. "Hey Matt, just wanted to let you know that Frank's blood alcohol came back 0.02. They won't drop the charges though, they're sending it out for narcotics now. That might take a little while."
We had just gotten the Social Security psychologist's report back. His diagnosis was Aphasia. It actually felt good to be able to call it something. We actually embraced it. We ordered bumper stickers, stickers for his car window, pamphlets to hand to the police if Frank ever got stopped again, everything we could think of. The trouble was Frank couldn't remember that he had this condition and would not remember to hand anything out. We looked up the definition in Wiki, it says "speechlessness is the disturbance in formulation and comprehension of language. This class of language disorder ranges from having difficulty remembering words to being completely unable to speak, read, or write. The most common brain injury that causes aphasia is stroke."
"Guy, tell them that Frank has Aphasia and that's why he couldn't follow the directions for the sobriety test. Maybe then they'll drop the charges." Matt suggested.
"I'll give it a go, but they're being hard-asses for some reason. I'll let you know." Guy finished. In the end the narcotic test came back negative also. They never put out a warrant, but they wouldn't drop the charges either. I guess in case it happened again, they wanted it on his record.
In the end we were left with an ethical question. Is is appropriate to continue to let Frank get behind the wheel? When he's lost everything he had, could we take one of the only things he had left, his freedom? If we did take away the keys, who is responsible for him then? We certainly are not in a position to provide for him 24/7 when Matt and I both work and have a family to take care of. In the end, we felt we had no choice but to keep letting him drive and hope we're not sorry.
"Yes, yes it is. Is everything okay?" Matt asked.
Matt and I had just walked in the door from going out to dinner and a movie. We saw Star Trek, then went out for burgers at Ruby Tuesday. We came home and my sons had a couple friends over and we were just chatting about the movie when the phone rang. Who would be calling at 10:30 at night I wondered? It's never good news.
"We have your brother Francis here on suspicion of DUI. You'll need to come get him." the officer stated. "Uh, okay, do you have an address?" Matt grabbed a pencil. "It may take us awhile, we're about an hour away." Matt said frankly.
"What in the world is he doing in Chester? There's nothing good in Chester. I cannot believe this." I said. I was annoyed after just coming home from having a pleasant evening out, then having to go bail Frank out. Not to mention, it's embarrassing to me for my children to hear this and know their uncle is arrested and for their friends to hear. I can't always bring it up, but so many times I just wished we hadn't gotten involved in Frank's life, but at the same time I wonder what would have happened to him and where he would be if we hadn't.
Matt and I talked in the car on the way there. "I'm not Frank's wife or his mother, and I'm getting tired of feeling like both. You know, if Kat won't sign those divorce papers and hand over Frank's settlement money, then she can start taking care of him. I feel like dropping him off at her house. We have to ask her to pay alimony, they're still married and he should be her responsibility, not ours." I stated. "In sickness and health." Matt agreed
"What would you do if it were me?" Matt asked playfully. "Uhh, if it were you? You'd be in a nursing home by now, buddy." I giggled. "You mean you wouldn't change my Depends?" Matt laughed.
"I don't do windows . . . or Depends!" I retorted.
We got off the exit of route 476 at Chester and followed the GPS to the police station. It was 11:30 at night and the streets looked like total mayhem. There were gangs of thugs crossing in the middle of streets not even looking out for traffic. There was another gang of scary looking individuals walking down the other side street. It just looked completely lawless to me, and very frightening. "Oh my gosh, let's just get out of here as fast as we can." I said to Matt. There were a series of one-way, hilly, curvy, narrow streets that were like a maze before we finally found the police station. We pulled into the station parking lot and went inside. There were two cops at the entrance. We introduced ourselves and Officer Adamski came over. He said "He was going the wrong way down a one-way street." Matt and I look at each other and silently thinking that this is not actually surprising since we almost did the same thing. "He said he was lost. He seemed confused, so I asked him to get out of the car. I proceeded to perform a field sobriety check on him and he failed each one. I asked him to say the alphabet backward, and he could not do it. Then I asked him to walk heel-to-toe for nine steps then turn and come back. I had to repeat the instruction twice before he attempted it and then he took fifteen steps before I had to tell him to come back, then he proceeded to run back toward me." "Oh my God, I don't know what to say. We're having him evaluated for some cognitive problems, but we don't know what's wrong." Matt said. "We've taken a blood sample and we'll process it through the mail so you can take him now." Officer Adamski was actually nice. It seemed he thought Frank was DUI, but wasn't being a jerk about it. Then the other officer opened the door and Frank came through. He looked tired and disheveled. I just looked at him with disapproval and he shook his head at me, kind of in shame and frustration. "C'mon Frank, let's go home." Matt said.
After we got in the car, Frank said, "I went to the Phillies game tonight. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer and I was talking to this guy all night. I only had one beer, I swear. I left in the eighth inning to get a jump on traffic. I was going down Broad Street, I was near where . . . your son lives . . . you know by . . . umm, Temple. Then I got lost. I ended up in here and that's what happened." "You weren't at Kat's house were you?" I asked skeptically because, I'm not that good at geography, but I don't know how you start out at Citizens Bank Park and end up in Chester. Chester is actually closer to Kat's house.
"No, I was feeling kind of sad, so I went to the game, and then I got lost." Frank said again.
"It's okay Frank, don't worry." Matt said. Frank actually did look really bad. I guess the stress of not knowing where you are and getting arrested took it's toll. He didn't say another word the next hour until we dropped him off. I don't know if he was asleep or just numb. He shuffled into the house with barely a word of thanks or a goodnight.
The next day Matt tried to get Frank's car back from the tow truck driver. It was Sunday and he could see someone was in the office in the parking lot, but the man inside said they were closed and he would have to come back on Monday to get the car back. Matt tried to argue that if they are charging a daily rate to leave the car there, we should be able to pick up the car or not be charged for the days that the office is closed. The guy said, "Come back tomorrow, what don't you understand about closed." It seems they are open to accept newly towed cars, but they're not open to get your car out. Matt had to go before work Monday morning, park the car on the street, then go back later with me and pick it up. Four hours of driving back and forth because Frank loved the Phillies.
We called an old friend of Frank's, an attorney, to deal with this new issue. Guy Newman is a big, tall friendly man with a brilliant head of snow white hair. He reminds me of Leslie Nielsen in many ways. "Hey Matt, just wanted to let you know that Frank's blood alcohol came back 0.02. They won't drop the charges though, they're sending it out for narcotics now. That might take a little while."
We had just gotten the Social Security psychologist's report back. His diagnosis was Aphasia. It actually felt good to be able to call it something. We actually embraced it. We ordered bumper stickers, stickers for his car window, pamphlets to hand to the police if Frank ever got stopped again, everything we could think of. The trouble was Frank couldn't remember that he had this condition and would not remember to hand anything out. We looked up the definition in Wiki, it says "speechlessness is the disturbance in formulation and comprehension of language. This class of language disorder ranges from having difficulty remembering words to being completely unable to speak, read, or write. The most common brain injury that causes aphasia is stroke."
"Guy, tell them that Frank has Aphasia and that's why he couldn't follow the directions for the sobriety test. Maybe then they'll drop the charges." Matt suggested.
"I'll give it a go, but they're being hard-asses for some reason. I'll let you know." Guy finished. In the end the narcotic test came back negative also. They never put out a warrant, but they wouldn't drop the charges either. I guess in case it happened again, they wanted it on his record.
In the end we were left with an ethical question. Is is appropriate to continue to let Frank get behind the wheel? When he's lost everything he had, could we take one of the only things he had left, his freedom? If we did take away the keys, who is responsible for him then? We certainly are not in a position to provide for him 24/7 when Matt and I both work and have a family to take care of. In the end, we felt we had no choice but to keep letting him drive and hope we're not sorry.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
24: Unsung Hero
"Matt, I've been researching Social Security disability. I think we have to try to enroll Frank." I said the next day.
"I'm sorry about yesterday. Yeah, you're right. I was thinking that too. It's just so hard for me to see him like this. This isn't Frank. I was always so proud of him. He was the most popular kid in school. He wasn't just friends with the cool kids, he was the cool kid. Everyone wanted to be his friend. We were on the same football team, but you wouldn't even know we were brothers, he was the star, he got all the awards, I got 'Unsung Hero'. He always landed the best jobs, and everyone he worked with loved him. Everyone always said to me, 'Oh, you're Frank Layton's brother? He's a great guy!' I was never Matt Layton, I was always Frank's Brother, but I was okay with that, because he was admired so much." Matt said.
"I know this is hard on you Matt, but I can't just sit here and react to each new thing that occurs. We're all he's got and we can't just deny what we're seeing. We've got to do something, and that starts with getting him health insurance so he can see a doctor." I said
Matt began reading about it and said it seems pretty simple. "I don't know why people hire lawyers to file for disability. You just fill it out online on the social security website."
"Let's not rush into it, let me see if there's anything else we should be doing. If people are hiring lawyers, they're doing it for a reason." I reasoned.
"Well, fine if that's what you want to do, but it says to just fill it out online and I think that's what we should do." Matt restated.
I spent an evening reading online articles and taking notes. I found a great article written by a lawyer that has helped people get Social Security benefits for years and he says not to fill out the online application. If you give no proof of disability, it's an easy rejection and it will take 18 months to appeal. He said to print out the application, provide lots of documentation of the illness and get anyone you can think of to write letters to support the reason the person cannot work, then apply in person. Matt agreed to go along with me on this one and asked Pat, his mom, our family doctor, a friend, in addition to Matt's letter and my letter detailing our experiences with him. Then Frank and Terry went to apply in person.
The first thing Frank had to do was get examined by a psychologist for SS. Matt drove Frank to the psychologist's office one evening after work. Dr. Barnes' office was in a nearby affluent suburban neighborhood. Matt rang the bell and Dr. Barnes' answered himself. He was mid-forties, average height, with dark, wavy hair and dark framed glasses. He looked like a psychologist, or a 1960's intellectual. "You must be Frank, I've been expecting you, hello, Dr. Barnes'. Hello, and I spoke to you on the phone I believe? Matt?" He had a very soothing, mellow voice. They filed inside the office/house. Dr. Barnes' started, "First, I think I want to speak to Matt. Frank, could you just wait out here?" "Yeah, ahhhcchhmm, right." Frank cleared his throat. This was a tic he had been developing, along with the cognitive decline, he constantly cleared his throat. I think it was giving him extra time to think about what he was going to say next.
Dr. Barnes wanted to know about Frank's background. If he had any cognitive developmental problems as a child, if he was an alcoholic, what his work and family history was, if he played sports. This is to develop a baseline for his behavior so he could get a more accurate picture of what changes have developed and what the cause could be. Matt explained that Frank once had a successful career and family, and he had been doing a little drinking since he and his wife split up, but we don't think it was to such an extent to cause brain damage and he had stopped drinking all alcohol now. Matt explained that we feel this could be the result of playing football. Frank had played from eight years old up through college, but we just didn't know what was going on.
Dr. Barnes brought Frank into his office next and gave him The Wechsler Test of Intelligence. It is the most commonly used test to evaluate IQ for children and adults and is commonly used as a screener for dementia. About thirty minutes later, Dr. Barnes opened his office door and ushered Frank out. "Thank you Frank, now I'd like to speak with your brother. We'll be just a moment, make yourself comfortable." Dr. Barnes closed the door and said, "Have a seat Matt. Did you say your brother had been employed?" "Yes, actually he had a good job with AT&T selling computer equipment. He was one of their top salesman, for the last three years he's been with Sprint, but he just got fired from there." Matt explained. "Well Matt, I've never seen anything like this. Frank has an IQ of 32. This is not something we see in someone who has been employed and has a family, it's more like someone who was born with mental retardation. Let me show you something. I gave him a word association test where I say a word and he has to say a word just like it. Association is a basic function of memory. One word is associated with another word by using our memories. How well Frank can come up with an association tells me what condition his memory is in. For example I said the word 'glove', I would expect to hear back maybe 'hand'. Frank said 'baseball'. I said 'pencil' he said 'floor'. Then I asked him to name as many animals as he could, he named 'cat' and 'dog' and couldn't think of any other."
"Wow, that's crazy. I didn't realize how bad he was." Matt was astonished.
"Let me show you one more thing; this was really interesting Matt. I asked Frank to write his name. He wrote it completely backward in mirror writing. Has he ever been able to do that?" Dr. Barnes asked.
"No, I've never seen him do that. It's almost frightening." Matt said.
"I'll write up my report and send it in. Thank you for bringing him in, this is a very interesting case." Dr. Barnes opened the door again.
Frank stood up when they went out and said to Matt, "Did I do good?"
"Yeah Frank, you did really good."
"I'm sorry about yesterday. Yeah, you're right. I was thinking that too. It's just so hard for me to see him like this. This isn't Frank. I was always so proud of him. He was the most popular kid in school. He wasn't just friends with the cool kids, he was the cool kid. Everyone wanted to be his friend. We were on the same football team, but you wouldn't even know we were brothers, he was the star, he got all the awards, I got 'Unsung Hero'. He always landed the best jobs, and everyone he worked with loved him. Everyone always said to me, 'Oh, you're Frank Layton's brother? He's a great guy!' I was never Matt Layton, I was always Frank's Brother, but I was okay with that, because he was admired so much." Matt said.
"I know this is hard on you Matt, but I can't just sit here and react to each new thing that occurs. We're all he's got and we can't just deny what we're seeing. We've got to do something, and that starts with getting him health insurance so he can see a doctor." I said
Matt began reading about it and said it seems pretty simple. "I don't know why people hire lawyers to file for disability. You just fill it out online on the social security website."
"Let's not rush into it, let me see if there's anything else we should be doing. If people are hiring lawyers, they're doing it for a reason." I reasoned.
"Well, fine if that's what you want to do, but it says to just fill it out online and I think that's what we should do." Matt restated.
I spent an evening reading online articles and taking notes. I found a great article written by a lawyer that has helped people get Social Security benefits for years and he says not to fill out the online application. If you give no proof of disability, it's an easy rejection and it will take 18 months to appeal. He said to print out the application, provide lots of documentation of the illness and get anyone you can think of to write letters to support the reason the person cannot work, then apply in person. Matt agreed to go along with me on this one and asked Pat, his mom, our family doctor, a friend, in addition to Matt's letter and my letter detailing our experiences with him. Then Frank and Terry went to apply in person.
The first thing Frank had to do was get examined by a psychologist for SS. Matt drove Frank to the psychologist's office one evening after work. Dr. Barnes' office was in a nearby affluent suburban neighborhood. Matt rang the bell and Dr. Barnes' answered himself. He was mid-forties, average height, with dark, wavy hair and dark framed glasses. He looked like a psychologist, or a 1960's intellectual. "You must be Frank, I've been expecting you, hello, Dr. Barnes'. Hello, and I spoke to you on the phone I believe? Matt?" He had a very soothing, mellow voice. They filed inside the office/house. Dr. Barnes' started, "First, I think I want to speak to Matt. Frank, could you just wait out here?" "Yeah, ahhhcchhmm, right." Frank cleared his throat. This was a tic he had been developing, along with the cognitive decline, he constantly cleared his throat. I think it was giving him extra time to think about what he was going to say next.
Dr. Barnes wanted to know about Frank's background. If he had any cognitive developmental problems as a child, if he was an alcoholic, what his work and family history was, if he played sports. This is to develop a baseline for his behavior so he could get a more accurate picture of what changes have developed and what the cause could be. Matt explained that Frank once had a successful career and family, and he had been doing a little drinking since he and his wife split up, but we don't think it was to such an extent to cause brain damage and he had stopped drinking all alcohol now. Matt explained that we feel this could be the result of playing football. Frank had played from eight years old up through college, but we just didn't know what was going on.
Dr. Barnes brought Frank into his office next and gave him The Wechsler Test of Intelligence. It is the most commonly used test to evaluate IQ for children and adults and is commonly used as a screener for dementia. About thirty minutes later, Dr. Barnes opened his office door and ushered Frank out. "Thank you Frank, now I'd like to speak with your brother. We'll be just a moment, make yourself comfortable." Dr. Barnes closed the door and said, "Have a seat Matt. Did you say your brother had been employed?" "Yes, actually he had a good job with AT&T selling computer equipment. He was one of their top salesman, for the last three years he's been with Sprint, but he just got fired from there." Matt explained. "Well Matt, I've never seen anything like this. Frank has an IQ of 32. This is not something we see in someone who has been employed and has a family, it's more like someone who was born with mental retardation. Let me show you something. I gave him a word association test where I say a word and he has to say a word just like it. Association is a basic function of memory. One word is associated with another word by using our memories. How well Frank can come up with an association tells me what condition his memory is in. For example I said the word 'glove', I would expect to hear back maybe 'hand'. Frank said 'baseball'. I said 'pencil' he said 'floor'. Then I asked him to name as many animals as he could, he named 'cat' and 'dog' and couldn't think of any other."
"Wow, that's crazy. I didn't realize how bad he was." Matt was astonished.
"Let me show you one more thing; this was really interesting Matt. I asked Frank to write his name. He wrote it completely backward in mirror writing. Has he ever been able to do that?" Dr. Barnes asked.
"No, I've never seen him do that. It's almost frightening." Matt said.
"I'll write up my report and send it in. Thank you for bringing him in, this is a very interesting case." Dr. Barnes opened the door again.
Frank stood up when they went out and said to Matt, "Did I do good?"
"Yeah Frank, you did really good."
23: The FTD Game Show
"Frank, you're not going to sit around and do nothing." Terry flat-out stated. "You're just bored and depressed, that's what's wrong. And it's no wonder after what you've been through. I've circled some jobs in the paper and I'm coming over to get you." After the few weeks Terry spent with Frank, she knew he needed help and she didn't want to risk Pat getting as frustrated with Frank's presence as she was. "He just needs to be busy" was what she told me and I couldn't say I disagreed. Frank always was a go-getter and took alot of pride in his salesman's charm; it wasn't like him to sit and brood. Terry pulled up to Pat's house at the end of the cul-de-sac with her little gray Civic and bopped the horn. Frank came out dressed in his brown tweed sportcoat, khaki pants, and peach shirt and tie. He looked great and Terry already felt better just seeing him cleaned up . "The first place we're going in Henning's, they need a store manager. You have management experience, you can do that." Terry encouraged. "Oh yeah, I had twenty people under me at . . . uh . . .AT&T, and stuff like that." Frank didn't have much else, but he still had that old confidence."Laytonacity" I call it.
Laytonacity runs in the family. I hear it originated in the senior Mr. Layton. Although I never met him, I saw his handywork in the family home in New Jersey. The old heathkit brick stereo that never quite worked, the family room addition on the back of the house that wasn't quite attached and also didn't have a foundation, and also had interior paneling on the exterior, the toilet that was painted dark blue, but the paint didn't stick very well inside the bowl; there are other stories, but you get the picture. I see it in my sixteen year old who, armed with his driver's permit with the ink still wet, criticizes every driver in front of him. "Look at this guy, he's driving 42 in a 45 mile per hour zone!" "Look how far back this guy is from traffic in front of him, what's wrong with these people!" Actually, I'm quite worried about this Laytonacity trait. One day you're on top of the world and next thing you have a harvest gold and cobalt blue stained toilet in your house. You can't be a professional in everything.
Terry dropped Frank off in front of Henning's and said "I'll be waiting right here. Good luck." "Thanks Mom." Frank hopped out of the car and strode purposefully into the store. He came out about twenty-five minutes later with a big smile. "How did it go?" Terry asked hopefully. "It went great, I think I got the job. I told them about my jobs, that other place I worked, and stuff, and what I did, and stuff like that, and about that thing I got, you know, that . . . um prize . . . that bonus, that's what it was, the bonus, no . . . award, that's it, I couldn't think of it. He said they'll call."
"Okay good, but let's go one more place. They need a forklift operator at the chocolate factory." Terry proposed. "Okay, let's go!" Frank was on a roll and felt great. He thought he got that job too, but those phone calls never came. He did get a job stocking shelves at Target overnight. We were proud of him for continuing to look for a job and then landing one, even though it wasn't store manager.
"How's the job going Frank?" Matt asked one day. "Uh, well, I got fired." Frank said quietly. "What happened?" Matt wanted to know. "The guy was always yelling at me. I was putting stuff in the freezer and he told me that he didn't want me to do that. He said he told me to do something else. It seemed like I was always doing the wrong thing. I applied for another job at that place near me."
"Oh good Frank. Where?" Matt asked. "You know, that orange place." Matt and I looked at each other. We were actually getting quite good at filling in Frank's missing words. I love word games and puzzles so it was actually fun to try and figure out what he was trying to say, like charades. "Um, orange . . . orange . . . Walmart? . . no that's not orange." I was trying to figure it out.
'They wear those orange things, you know. It's big, really big." Frank offered another hint.
"Home Depot!" Score ten points for Matt. ding! Cue canned applause and theme show music.
"Yeah, Home Depot, that's it." Frank confirmed.
After Frank left, I said to Matt,"You know he's not going to get that job, right?"
"Why would you say that? Frank's always gotten the best jobs. When we were in high school he got a job as a salesman at Sears. He made alot of money too. The only reason I got that job at Walgreen's lunch counter was because Frank had it first and they liked him." Matt seemed to be in denial.
"Matt, we have to do something. Frank is not my child, I have my own bills to pay and we have three children that need to go to college. We can't keep paying his rent forever and there will be no other job." "Wow, I can't believe you're so negative." Mat stalked away. "I can't believe you can't see what's right in front of your eyes!" I shouted at his back. Now we're fighting over him. I knew it would not be good for our family to get involved.
Laytonacity runs in the family. I hear it originated in the senior Mr. Layton. Although I never met him, I saw his handywork in the family home in New Jersey. The old heathkit brick stereo that never quite worked, the family room addition on the back of the house that wasn't quite attached and also didn't have a foundation, and also had interior paneling on the exterior, the toilet that was painted dark blue, but the paint didn't stick very well inside the bowl; there are other stories, but you get the picture. I see it in my sixteen year old who, armed with his driver's permit with the ink still wet, criticizes every driver in front of him. "Look at this guy, he's driving 42 in a 45 mile per hour zone!" "Look how far back this guy is from traffic in front of him, what's wrong with these people!" Actually, I'm quite worried about this Laytonacity trait. One day you're on top of the world and next thing you have a harvest gold and cobalt blue stained toilet in your house. You can't be a professional in everything.
Terry dropped Frank off in front of Henning's and said "I'll be waiting right here. Good luck." "Thanks Mom." Frank hopped out of the car and strode purposefully into the store. He came out about twenty-five minutes later with a big smile. "How did it go?" Terry asked hopefully. "It went great, I think I got the job. I told them about my jobs, that other place I worked, and stuff, and what I did, and stuff like that, and about that thing I got, you know, that . . . um prize . . . that bonus, that's what it was, the bonus, no . . . award, that's it, I couldn't think of it. He said they'll call."
"Okay good, but let's go one more place. They need a forklift operator at the chocolate factory." Terry proposed. "Okay, let's go!" Frank was on a roll and felt great. He thought he got that job too, but those phone calls never came. He did get a job stocking shelves at Target overnight. We were proud of him for continuing to look for a job and then landing one, even though it wasn't store manager.
"How's the job going Frank?" Matt asked one day. "Uh, well, I got fired." Frank said quietly. "What happened?" Matt wanted to know. "The guy was always yelling at me. I was putting stuff in the freezer and he told me that he didn't want me to do that. He said he told me to do something else. It seemed like I was always doing the wrong thing. I applied for another job at that place near me."
"Oh good Frank. Where?" Matt asked. "You know, that orange place." Matt and I looked at each other. We were actually getting quite good at filling in Frank's missing words. I love word games and puzzles so it was actually fun to try and figure out what he was trying to say, like charades. "Um, orange . . . orange . . . Walmart? . . no that's not orange." I was trying to figure it out.
'They wear those orange things, you know. It's big, really big." Frank offered another hint.
"Home Depot!" Score ten points for Matt. ding! Cue canned applause and theme show music.
"Yeah, Home Depot, that's it." Frank confirmed.
After Frank left, I said to Matt,"You know he's not going to get that job, right?"
"Why would you say that? Frank's always gotten the best jobs. When we were in high school he got a job as a salesman at Sears. He made alot of money too. The only reason I got that job at Walgreen's lunch counter was because Frank had it first and they liked him." Matt seemed to be in denial.
"Matt, we have to do something. Frank is not my child, I have my own bills to pay and we have three children that need to go to college. We can't keep paying his rent forever and there will be no other job." "Wow, I can't believe you're so negative." Mat stalked away. "I can't believe you can't see what's right in front of your eyes!" I shouted at his back. Now we're fighting over him. I knew it would not be good for our family to get involved.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
22: FTD Symptoms Pile Up
"Oh, hell no." That was Terry's firm answer when Matt asked if Frank could crash for a few weeks until he figured something out. "Matthew, I have a life here; I am busy, I have plans, and I don't need him here messing things up."
"Mom, it'll only be a few weeks until I can figure this out." Matt looked her directly in the eye, "It's here or the sidewalk for Frank. I promise it won't be long." He looked down from his 6 foot frame with that boyish smile, "I'll make it up to you. After I get him an apartment, we'll go shopping at Peddler's Village to that kitchen store that you like and then we'll go to that colonial restaurant." They both knew she would relent, Terry never could say no to Matt and that charming smile.
"I do love their pork tenderloin. Did I tell you that I went there with Elaine? She couldn't believe that it was pork tenderloin, it was so tender. I said, Elaine it is pork tenderloin, then Elaine said, no Terry I can't believe it, then I said . . ."
"Ok mom, so it's all settled, I'll bring Frank on Monday after we pick up his stuff with the truck." Matt had to cut her off, she would have gone on for an hour with stories of her and Elaine's escapades.
Early Monday morning, Matt picked up a U-Haul and he and Frank emptied the old house of all Frank's worldly possessions. Television and stand, dresser, bed, bags and bags of clothes and shoes, and Panser the schnauzer. "C'mon Frank, we've got to hurry, I have to be at work by 9." Somehow Matt managed to drive an hour to Upper Darby, get a truck, load Frank's stuff, bring it to Plymouth Meeting, drop off him and his belongings at Terry's and still get to work on time.
"Frank, put your things in the back bedroom." Terry commanded. She was annoyed at having this invader, even if it was her son, with his smelly bags of clothes and not to mention that scruffy dog, in her neat, cozy home. She didn't even know what to do with him or what to say so she did what she did when the boys were kids; she started cooking. Meatloaf with stewed tomatoes, noodle kugel, broccoli cheese casserole and apple cream pie. Low fat and low calorie was not on the menu tonight. As annoyed and uncomfortable as Terry felt about this arrangement, Frank was delighted. He missed his mom and her good home cooking and he was so happy to just have some company.
Matt and I went over for dinner that evening. Terry was a little more quiet than usual and Frank also seemed distant. There was a sad vacancy in his eyes that was not there before. I chalked it up to the stress he had been through. Dinner conversation was difficult, so we talked about the dog. "So, how is Panser getting along Frank?" I asked. " Oh, he's great. I took him for a walk and he did his business." Frank answered. "Yeah, I had to ask him to walk the dog three times and then he peed on my rug anyway. You're going to have to keep that dog caged up, I won't have that Frank." Terry seemed a little more angry that she should have been, but I guess it was a stressful day. "So Frank, how are you going to get to work now? Are you going to take the train?" Matt asked. "Oh, uh, no, uh, I got fired." Frank stammered. This was a surprise; the three of us stopped eating. "My gosh Frank, what happened?" Matt asked. "You know, they were always taking my customers and giving them to the other salespeople . . and stuff like that. I don't know why. They're my customers and then they get the sale. They said my . . . uh , , , my volume was down." "Frank, you've been working there for three years, how could they do that?" Matt asked incredulously. Terry said sarcastically, "Great, how can this day get better?"
The evening went from bad to worse at that point. The only good thing was the food, which was very good, as usual. Terry was a phenomenal cook. She was one of those people that made everything look easy. If she was bringing a dish to your house, it came piping hot in a special dish and was always amazingly good. She may have gotten her start in the school cafeteria, but her natural talent and interest propelled her into corporate catering for a short time. If we were invited to Terry's for dinner, you can be sure that it was something to look forward to.
We decided to cut the evening short since Terry seemed stressed and Frank seemed to be tired. Terry told Frank to take the dog out again so Frank walked us out to the car. We walked silently to our car and Frank disappeared into the darkness with Panser after quick goodbye. No thank you, no conversation, just silence. After all Matt had done for Frank, just a thanks would have been nice, but either Frank forgot how to be polite or maybe he was just tired.
We called Terry a few days later to see how it was going. "When did you say he's moving out?" "Why mom, is everything okay?" Matt asked worried. "I just have a weird feeling. He just stands there and doesn't say anything, he just looks. Then, I came home yesterday and I made some lunch, went through the mail and I just sat down to watch tv, when suddenly Frank came out of nowhere and stood behind me. Scared the bejeesus out of me, I'll tell you. Something is not right." Terry exploded. "I'm sorry Mom, I really appreciate what you're doing. I'm doing my best. Susie is calling some places today." Matt replied.
I called some craigslist ads. I got a call back two days later from one. "We don't like troublemakers. Is this for you?" The woman asked. "Well, no. It's for my brother-in-law. He's getting a divorce and he needs a place to live." I explained. "Does he work? Because I'll need a letter from his employer proving that he has a job." the potential landlady said. "Well, he just got laid off, but my husband and I will guarantee the rent. We can co-sign the lease for him if that's okay." I answered. " He sounds like a troublemaker, I don't know." the landlady said. "Oh, no, he's great; he's a great guy." I tried to sound positive. "Well why is he getting a divorce then?" the landlady wanted to know. " It's all his wife's fault, she's the troublemaker, she's just no good." I threw Kat under the bus. "Well, let's set up an appointment when we can get together. I don't rent to anybody until we get to know each other. I don't rent to just anybody, we don't need any trouble." the landlady explained. " Umm, okay, let me get back to you when I know my schedule." I lied. Scratch another apartment off the list. I'm pretty sure as soon as she meets Frank, she'll get the weird vibe the rest of us are getting too.
"Matt, let's look in Upper Darby. I'm sure Frank wants to be back in his neighborhood instead of all the way out here. Everyone wants to know your life story here, I don't know how anyone rents an apartment." I said. The next day I called an apartment building that seemed promising. I got an actual person who said that I could fill out an application and send in a $50 fee and then I could get the apartment. 'Wow" I thought, "this sounds great". Matt went over that weekend to see the apartment and pick up the application. He filled it out there and handed over the $50 fee. "Okay, when can we move in?" Matt wanted to know. "First we must do a credit check. You have bank send statement then we let you know." the woman tried to explain in her hispanic accent.
After sending the bank statement, filling out the application, and handing over $50 we never heard from them. I called every day for a week. Sometimes a hispanic man would answer and say she wasn't there, sometimes I would leave a message. Finally after a week, the woman answered the phone. "You did not get the apartment, I'm sorry." "What? Why did you collect $50 if you weren't going to give us the apartment?" I demanded to know. "I do security check, sorry, it no good." she replied. I don't know why, but this hit me like a ton of bricks. He's been arrested for violating the PFA, he's been arrested for the trumped up forgery, DUI, of course it's going to come up. I realized that we are never going to find an apartment. I even placed an ad on craigslist appealing to other divorced dads that might have an extra room to rent. I did get one response from a guy that sounded really nice and offered to go out for a beer and discuss what it's like to divorce a bitch. Of course, he thought my emotional, well thought out plea was Frank, who was actually incapable of such deep thoughts or emotions. I just ended up deleting the ad and feeling guilty for deceiving him.
"We might have to let him move in with us for a while, I don't know how much longer my mom will let Frank stay." Matt said one day about three weeks later.
"Are you kidding? There is no way he is moving in this house. We have children, all our spare bedrooms are filled and the kids and their friends play in the basement." I pushed back. "How about some type of group home?" I offered. We looked into that and found that there must be some type of insurance plan or welfare, which we had neither, otherwise it was quite expensive. One day after talking with a friend, Matt came home and said "I was talking to Joe and he said I should ask Pat." Pat is a fantasy football buddy "His wife is divorcing him and he got the kids and the house, but he's having a hard time making ends meet. He may actually lose the house. Frank could help him pay his bills and Pat could help us out."
"That sound good Matt, I could use the help. I might be able to get him a job too. Does Frank know anything about newspapers?" Pat inquired.
"Oh, yeah Pat. Frank delivered newspapers on the side for years. He could definitely help out with that."
"I'm just so tired from getting up at 3 in the morning, maybe some days Frank could run my route and I'll take something off his rent." Pat offered.
"Speaking of rent, how much were you thinking Pat?" Matt asked. "Six-fifty should do it Matt." Pat stated. "Is Saturday okay?"
Pat could have said sixteen hundred fifty and it would have been okay with Matt. He needed to get Frank out of Terry's space and this was the best option. Not only that, but Frank could earn money toward his rent running Pat's route. Maybe Frank could even get his own route. "This is awesome!" Matt thought.
Saturday came and we moved Frank into a bedroom in Pat's house. It was a nice four bedroom house. A little messy, but considering it's just Pat, a ten year old boy and twelve year old girl, it's understandable. There were toys littering the floor in every room. The kitchen sink was piled with dirty dishes and the counters hadn't been wiped or decluttered in a long time. It didn't matter, we were just happy to have a place to park Frank. "Thanks alot Pat, we're really grateful." Matt said.
"Don't mention it Matt, I can't wait to sleep in as soon as Frank can take over a day or two of my route. In the meantime, he can help do the frags and I'll give him a couple bucks for that." That involved placing the ads inside the newspaper, an easy, but time-consuming job.
Frank looked like a lost puppy when we left him there sitting amid his box barricade in the bedroom of Pat's house. "Frank unpack your stuff and get organized." Matt suggested. "Okay Matt" Frank replied bewildered looking.
"Matt, something's wrong with your brother." Patt called one day about a month into the new living arrangement.
"What's up Pat?" Matt asked, concerned but not surprised that something was going wrong already. "Frank has been going out with me running my paper route every day for three weeks. You said he had experience, he said he knew how to do it, but I'm about to get fired over him and this was only his first day on the job."Pat was upset.
"Oh no, I'm sorry Pat. What happened?" Matt asked.
"Well, he left here at 3(AM) and didn't get back until 8. He should have been back by 5. My supervisor called me and said he's been getting calls all morning that papers are missing. They had to send someone else out to run my route and we didn't even know where Frank was. When he finally came back at 8, the car still had all the papers in it." Pat explained.
"What did he say when he got back?" Matt asked.
"He said he got lost, but we've been over this route for weeks; he said he knew it. Matt, I can't let him do this. I need this job and if he screws up again I'm going to get fired. I'll still let him do the frags, but he's not going to be able to do my route." Pat said. "And another thing Matt, when I agreed to let him move in, I kind of thought it would be nice to have someone to talk to or help out. He just stays up in his room all the time. I don't know what he's doing, but he rarely comes out. I don't want to leave him alone here when the kids are here."
"I understand Pat, I don't blame you." Matt responded.
"I'm also a little worried about the dog. He leaves him in a crate in the garage most of the time. I see him take Panser out for walks but he always puts him back in the crate. It just seems a little sad for the poor thing." Pat said.
"I'll come over and talk to him Pat, thanks for letting me know." Matt offered and hung up. Something is seriously wrong here, I think we need some outside help, Matt thought.
"Mom, it'll only be a few weeks until I can figure this out." Matt looked her directly in the eye, "It's here or the sidewalk for Frank. I promise it won't be long." He looked down from his 6 foot frame with that boyish smile, "I'll make it up to you. After I get him an apartment, we'll go shopping at Peddler's Village to that kitchen store that you like and then we'll go to that colonial restaurant." They both knew she would relent, Terry never could say no to Matt and that charming smile.
"I do love their pork tenderloin. Did I tell you that I went there with Elaine? She couldn't believe that it was pork tenderloin, it was so tender. I said, Elaine it is pork tenderloin, then Elaine said, no Terry I can't believe it, then I said . . ."
"Ok mom, so it's all settled, I'll bring Frank on Monday after we pick up his stuff with the truck." Matt had to cut her off, she would have gone on for an hour with stories of her and Elaine's escapades.
Early Monday morning, Matt picked up a U-Haul and he and Frank emptied the old house of all Frank's worldly possessions. Television and stand, dresser, bed, bags and bags of clothes and shoes, and Panser the schnauzer. "C'mon Frank, we've got to hurry, I have to be at work by 9." Somehow Matt managed to drive an hour to Upper Darby, get a truck, load Frank's stuff, bring it to Plymouth Meeting, drop off him and his belongings at Terry's and still get to work on time.
"Frank, put your things in the back bedroom." Terry commanded. She was annoyed at having this invader, even if it was her son, with his smelly bags of clothes and not to mention that scruffy dog, in her neat, cozy home. She didn't even know what to do with him or what to say so she did what she did when the boys were kids; she started cooking. Meatloaf with stewed tomatoes, noodle kugel, broccoli cheese casserole and apple cream pie. Low fat and low calorie was not on the menu tonight. As annoyed and uncomfortable as Terry felt about this arrangement, Frank was delighted. He missed his mom and her good home cooking and he was so happy to just have some company.
Matt and I went over for dinner that evening. Terry was a little more quiet than usual and Frank also seemed distant. There was a sad vacancy in his eyes that was not there before. I chalked it up to the stress he had been through. Dinner conversation was difficult, so we talked about the dog. "So, how is Panser getting along Frank?" I asked. " Oh, he's great. I took him for a walk and he did his business." Frank answered. "Yeah, I had to ask him to walk the dog three times and then he peed on my rug anyway. You're going to have to keep that dog caged up, I won't have that Frank." Terry seemed a little more angry that she should have been, but I guess it was a stressful day. "So Frank, how are you going to get to work now? Are you going to take the train?" Matt asked. "Oh, uh, no, uh, I got fired." Frank stammered. This was a surprise; the three of us stopped eating. "My gosh Frank, what happened?" Matt asked. "You know, they were always taking my customers and giving them to the other salespeople . . and stuff like that. I don't know why. They're my customers and then they get the sale. They said my . . . uh , , , my volume was down." "Frank, you've been working there for three years, how could they do that?" Matt asked incredulously. Terry said sarcastically, "Great, how can this day get better?"
The evening went from bad to worse at that point. The only good thing was the food, which was very good, as usual. Terry was a phenomenal cook. She was one of those people that made everything look easy. If she was bringing a dish to your house, it came piping hot in a special dish and was always amazingly good. She may have gotten her start in the school cafeteria, but her natural talent and interest propelled her into corporate catering for a short time. If we were invited to Terry's for dinner, you can be sure that it was something to look forward to.
We decided to cut the evening short since Terry seemed stressed and Frank seemed to be tired. Terry told Frank to take the dog out again so Frank walked us out to the car. We walked silently to our car and Frank disappeared into the darkness with Panser after quick goodbye. No thank you, no conversation, just silence. After all Matt had done for Frank, just a thanks would have been nice, but either Frank forgot how to be polite or maybe he was just tired.
We called Terry a few days later to see how it was going. "When did you say he's moving out?" "Why mom, is everything okay?" Matt asked worried. "I just have a weird feeling. He just stands there and doesn't say anything, he just looks. Then, I came home yesterday and I made some lunch, went through the mail and I just sat down to watch tv, when suddenly Frank came out of nowhere and stood behind me. Scared the bejeesus out of me, I'll tell you. Something is not right." Terry exploded. "I'm sorry Mom, I really appreciate what you're doing. I'm doing my best. Susie is calling some places today." Matt replied.
I called some craigslist ads. I got a call back two days later from one. "We don't like troublemakers. Is this for you?" The woman asked. "Well, no. It's for my brother-in-law. He's getting a divorce and he needs a place to live." I explained. "Does he work? Because I'll need a letter from his employer proving that he has a job." the potential landlady said. "Well, he just got laid off, but my husband and I will guarantee the rent. We can co-sign the lease for him if that's okay." I answered. " He sounds like a troublemaker, I don't know." the landlady said. "Oh, no, he's great; he's a great guy." I tried to sound positive. "Well why is he getting a divorce then?" the landlady wanted to know. " It's all his wife's fault, she's the troublemaker, she's just no good." I threw Kat under the bus. "Well, let's set up an appointment when we can get together. I don't rent to anybody until we get to know each other. I don't rent to just anybody, we don't need any trouble." the landlady explained. " Umm, okay, let me get back to you when I know my schedule." I lied. Scratch another apartment off the list. I'm pretty sure as soon as she meets Frank, she'll get the weird vibe the rest of us are getting too.
"Matt, let's look in Upper Darby. I'm sure Frank wants to be back in his neighborhood instead of all the way out here. Everyone wants to know your life story here, I don't know how anyone rents an apartment." I said. The next day I called an apartment building that seemed promising. I got an actual person who said that I could fill out an application and send in a $50 fee and then I could get the apartment. 'Wow" I thought, "this sounds great". Matt went over that weekend to see the apartment and pick up the application. He filled it out there and handed over the $50 fee. "Okay, when can we move in?" Matt wanted to know. "First we must do a credit check. You have bank send statement then we let you know." the woman tried to explain in her hispanic accent.
After sending the bank statement, filling out the application, and handing over $50 we never heard from them. I called every day for a week. Sometimes a hispanic man would answer and say she wasn't there, sometimes I would leave a message. Finally after a week, the woman answered the phone. "You did not get the apartment, I'm sorry." "What? Why did you collect $50 if you weren't going to give us the apartment?" I demanded to know. "I do security check, sorry, it no good." she replied. I don't know why, but this hit me like a ton of bricks. He's been arrested for violating the PFA, he's been arrested for the trumped up forgery, DUI, of course it's going to come up. I realized that we are never going to find an apartment. I even placed an ad on craigslist appealing to other divorced dads that might have an extra room to rent. I did get one response from a guy that sounded really nice and offered to go out for a beer and discuss what it's like to divorce a bitch. Of course, he thought my emotional, well thought out plea was Frank, who was actually incapable of such deep thoughts or emotions. I just ended up deleting the ad and feeling guilty for deceiving him.
"We might have to let him move in with us for a while, I don't know how much longer my mom will let Frank stay." Matt said one day about three weeks later.
"Are you kidding? There is no way he is moving in this house. We have children, all our spare bedrooms are filled and the kids and their friends play in the basement." I pushed back. "How about some type of group home?" I offered. We looked into that and found that there must be some type of insurance plan or welfare, which we had neither, otherwise it was quite expensive. One day after talking with a friend, Matt came home and said "I was talking to Joe and he said I should ask Pat." Pat is a fantasy football buddy "His wife is divorcing him and he got the kids and the house, but he's having a hard time making ends meet. He may actually lose the house. Frank could help him pay his bills and Pat could help us out."
"That sound good Matt, I could use the help. I might be able to get him a job too. Does Frank know anything about newspapers?" Pat inquired.
"Oh, yeah Pat. Frank delivered newspapers on the side for years. He could definitely help out with that."
"I'm just so tired from getting up at 3 in the morning, maybe some days Frank could run my route and I'll take something off his rent." Pat offered.
"Speaking of rent, how much were you thinking Pat?" Matt asked. "Six-fifty should do it Matt." Pat stated. "Is Saturday okay?"
Pat could have said sixteen hundred fifty and it would have been okay with Matt. He needed to get Frank out of Terry's space and this was the best option. Not only that, but Frank could earn money toward his rent running Pat's route. Maybe Frank could even get his own route. "This is awesome!" Matt thought.
Saturday came and we moved Frank into a bedroom in Pat's house. It was a nice four bedroom house. A little messy, but considering it's just Pat, a ten year old boy and twelve year old girl, it's understandable. There were toys littering the floor in every room. The kitchen sink was piled with dirty dishes and the counters hadn't been wiped or decluttered in a long time. It didn't matter, we were just happy to have a place to park Frank. "Thanks alot Pat, we're really grateful." Matt said.
"Don't mention it Matt, I can't wait to sleep in as soon as Frank can take over a day or two of my route. In the meantime, he can help do the frags and I'll give him a couple bucks for that." That involved placing the ads inside the newspaper, an easy, but time-consuming job.
Frank looked like a lost puppy when we left him there sitting amid his box barricade in the bedroom of Pat's house. "Frank unpack your stuff and get organized." Matt suggested. "Okay Matt" Frank replied bewildered looking.
"Matt, something's wrong with your brother." Patt called one day about a month into the new living arrangement.
"What's up Pat?" Matt asked, concerned but not surprised that something was going wrong already. "Frank has been going out with me running my paper route every day for three weeks. You said he had experience, he said he knew how to do it, but I'm about to get fired over him and this was only his first day on the job."Pat was upset.
"Oh no, I'm sorry Pat. What happened?" Matt asked.
"Well, he left here at 3(AM) and didn't get back until 8. He should have been back by 5. My supervisor called me and said he's been getting calls all morning that papers are missing. They had to send someone else out to run my route and we didn't even know where Frank was. When he finally came back at 8, the car still had all the papers in it." Pat explained.
"What did he say when he got back?" Matt asked.
"He said he got lost, but we've been over this route for weeks; he said he knew it. Matt, I can't let him do this. I need this job and if he screws up again I'm going to get fired. I'll still let him do the frags, but he's not going to be able to do my route." Pat said. "And another thing Matt, when I agreed to let him move in, I kind of thought it would be nice to have someone to talk to or help out. He just stays up in his room all the time. I don't know what he's doing, but he rarely comes out. I don't want to leave him alone here when the kids are here."
"I understand Pat, I don't blame you." Matt responded.
"I'm also a little worried about the dog. He leaves him in a crate in the garage most of the time. I see him take Panser out for walks but he always puts him back in the crate. It just seems a little sad for the poor thing." Pat said.
"I'll come over and talk to him Pat, thanks for letting me know." Matt offered and hung up. Something is seriously wrong here, I think we need some outside help, Matt thought.
Monday, December 10, 2012
21: Foreclosed
"Frank, what's with the truck in the back yard?" Matt asked. "Oh, that's my escape plan. I'm not going back to jail. It's not registered, so I'll just take off if she tried to put me back in jail." Frank stated plainly. This old beat up Chevy truck had a tree growing up through the middle of it, and the tires appeared buried, but somehow it looked like freedom to Frank, so Matt left it alone. They continued working on the house, basically just gathering trash and sorting old mail. Once the house was in better shape, there was the dog to worry about. "Frank, are you taking care of the dog?" Frank got a big smile on his face like the old days, Oh yeah! I take him out all the time. He's a great dog, he's my buddy! You know, I put his thing on and he wags his tail and we go out and he jumps and stuff and he knows man, he knows. Yeah." From what Matt observed, Frank took him out of his crate to feed him and then put him right back in. It seemed so cruel, but Frank insisted that he was taking good care of him and he did seem to like the dog alot.
Matt felt a little better about Frank's situation. The house was getting sorted out, he was current on his mortgage and Frank said he would pay the bill now that he knew where to send it to. He was working at the cell phone store at this point, but he was barely able to manage financially.
If only Kat would sign the divorce papers, let Frank have his half of the equity of the home and his portion of the family's money, it probably wouldn't have come to this and Frank wouldn't have a felony fraud charge on his record. Frank made an error in judgement, which is common with Frontotemporal Dementia, and signed Kat's name to refinance documents. It can be argued that he had no choice since she walked out of the meeting where he signed the family home over to her and she was supposed to sign over his old house back to him, except she and her attorney pulled a dramatic move and got up and walked out leaving Frank and Nicholas wondering what happened. After being under-employed and having an unmanageable amount of child support based on a salary he could never achieve again, he was in a desperate situation. Go to jail for non-payment of support, or go to jail for fraud, or get in that old Chevy planted in the backyard and disappear. Kat could have let it go. There was no harm to her in the end but she insisted that the District Attorney file the charges against Frank. It wasn't enough for her that he didn't live with her, it wasn't enough that there was a protection from abuse order preventing Frank from getting anywhere near Kat and the kids, she wanted to destroy him. A felony would prevent him from getting any meaningful employment in the future which would only hurt her and the chldren, but she didn't care. Mulva Fargo sent a letter to Frank's attorney stating that "any agreement on record is null and void in light of the fraud charges against your client. There will be no more talks of any agreement until a full investigation is launched into Mr. Layton's behavior to be sure that he has not perpetrated any other fraudulent behavior on my client, Ms Green." Kat took her maiden name back. This was all designed to help Kat keep everything she had. If she wanted it over, she could sign the papers and write a check, however more than two years had already gone by and now they had a new excuse to keep delaying.
By summer 2008, it all fell apart again. This time it was too late. "Matt, I don't know what it means, I got this letter." "What is it Frank?" "I don't know, I think it says they sold my house." Matt went over to Frank's house and found more piles of trash and junk and piles of unopened mail and newspapers everywhere. "Well Frank, here's the letter that says that you have three weeks to call to stop the sheriff's sale, and here's the letter that says they sold your house to someone. What were you waiting for? Why didn't you do something?" Matt was so angry at Frank and his brothers and the world for making him the responsible one for all this mess. "You know Frank, I've got a business to run, and my own family, I can't keep doing this. I thought you were going to pay this bill." Frank was sheepish, "I paid the Comcast bill and I thought I paid this one too." "Let me get this straight, you paid the bill for the television, but not the bill for the place where you live. Frank, I told you how important this one is. It's the most important bill you have. You can live without electricity, you could even live without water, you don't need a tv, but you need this house." "Sorry man, uh, I f'ed up." 'Yeah, you did, now I have to see what we can do."
Matt tried. He made phone calls to everywhere and everyone he could think of, but once it's sold, it's done. Frank had five days to move out. "What are you going to do Frank?" Matt asked. "Oh I'll be okay, I'll just get one of those houses in Philly. You just find an empty house and move in." "Umm, no, you're not doing that." Matt felt more like Frank's father now than his brother. Now the hard part. The only thing he could think to do in five days was ask his mom if Frank could crash for a few weeks until they figure something out. He already knew how that was going to go.
Matt felt a little better about Frank's situation. The house was getting sorted out, he was current on his mortgage and Frank said he would pay the bill now that he knew where to send it to. He was working at the cell phone store at this point, but he was barely able to manage financially.
If only Kat would sign the divorce papers, let Frank have his half of the equity of the home and his portion of the family's money, it probably wouldn't have come to this and Frank wouldn't have a felony fraud charge on his record. Frank made an error in judgement, which is common with Frontotemporal Dementia, and signed Kat's name to refinance documents. It can be argued that he had no choice since she walked out of the meeting where he signed the family home over to her and she was supposed to sign over his old house back to him, except she and her attorney pulled a dramatic move and got up and walked out leaving Frank and Nicholas wondering what happened. After being under-employed and having an unmanageable amount of child support based on a salary he could never achieve again, he was in a desperate situation. Go to jail for non-payment of support, or go to jail for fraud, or get in that old Chevy planted in the backyard and disappear. Kat could have let it go. There was no harm to her in the end but she insisted that the District Attorney file the charges against Frank. It wasn't enough for her that he didn't live with her, it wasn't enough that there was a protection from abuse order preventing Frank from getting anywhere near Kat and the kids, she wanted to destroy him. A felony would prevent him from getting any meaningful employment in the future which would only hurt her and the chldren, but she didn't care. Mulva Fargo sent a letter to Frank's attorney stating that "any agreement on record is null and void in light of the fraud charges against your client. There will be no more talks of any agreement until a full investigation is launched into Mr. Layton's behavior to be sure that he has not perpetrated any other fraudulent behavior on my client, Ms Green." Kat took her maiden name back. This was all designed to help Kat keep everything she had. If she wanted it over, she could sign the papers and write a check, however more than two years had already gone by and now they had a new excuse to keep delaying.
By summer 2008, it all fell apart again. This time it was too late. "Matt, I don't know what it means, I got this letter." "What is it Frank?" "I don't know, I think it says they sold my house." Matt went over to Frank's house and found more piles of trash and junk and piles of unopened mail and newspapers everywhere. "Well Frank, here's the letter that says that you have three weeks to call to stop the sheriff's sale, and here's the letter that says they sold your house to someone. What were you waiting for? Why didn't you do something?" Matt was so angry at Frank and his brothers and the world for making him the responsible one for all this mess. "You know Frank, I've got a business to run, and my own family, I can't keep doing this. I thought you were going to pay this bill." Frank was sheepish, "I paid the Comcast bill and I thought I paid this one too." "Let me get this straight, you paid the bill for the television, but not the bill for the place where you live. Frank, I told you how important this one is. It's the most important bill you have. You can live without electricity, you could even live without water, you don't need a tv, but you need this house." "Sorry man, uh, I f'ed up." 'Yeah, you did, now I have to see what we can do."
Matt tried. He made phone calls to everywhere and everyone he could think of, but once it's sold, it's done. Frank had five days to move out. "What are you going to do Frank?" Matt asked. "Oh I'll be okay, I'll just get one of those houses in Philly. You just find an empty house and move in." "Umm, no, you're not doing that." Matt felt more like Frank's father now than his brother. Now the hard part. The only thing he could think to do in five days was ask his mom if Frank could crash for a few weeks until they figure something out. He already knew how that was going to go.
20: Hoarding Symptom of FTD
Frank just slipped back into our lives like he never left. He visited often, even though he lived about an hour away. He came to our house to swim and just hang out. He bought himself a new dog just like the little dog he had to leave behind. He seemed to try to regain some of his life back by doing something that he loved, he rejoined the Army National Guard. There were not many things Frank loved more than sleeping in a tent and eating from a can. He was in the Guard when he met Kat, but one weekend away was too much for her. She complained about him being away incessantly. It was something she could not control so it had to go. Kat demanded complete control of Frank's life and she could not compete with the US military for control and it infuriated her. After they were married, she wrote letter after letter to his commanding officer demanding that he be let out. She of course signed them with Frank's name making it appear that he was the one that wanted out. Of course they wouldn't agree to discharge him early and when his commission was finally up, he rejoined. This infuriated her even more. Frank told her that they got him drunk and he didn't know what he was doing. We knew he needed that outlet to do something he loved and it was no accident. When Kat became pregnant with Frances, she finally got him out by claiming that she had some medical condition and he needed to be by her side.
Frank was thrilled to be back in the guard, but this was 2006 and there were some questions about being called up to Iraq. National Guards across the country were being activated to serve in the full military. That day did come. Frank told us that his unit was being activated and he was going to be deployed to Egypt by Christmas. I expressed concern to Matt. Due to his new behavior and language issues, I would not want Frank with a gun backing me up, that I know. We waited for news of his deployment, but Frank never seemed to know what was going on. Christmas 2006 came and went and Frank was still with us. I asked him if his unit shipped out and he said they did. I asked him why he didn't go and he said it was because he didn't get his physical form filled out in time. If there are any tests of mental competency, which I hope there are, that would be the reason. Whether he knew the real reason and didn't want to say, or he just couldn't comprehend what happened, I'll never know.
Fall 2007, Vincent went to visit Frank at his house. Everyone was concerned about Frank and his behavior lately, so while Vince and his family were passing through on their vacation they stopped in. Later, Vincent called Matt to tell him that Frank needed help. He was at the house and it was in a shambles. He had a truck parked in the back yard covered in grass. The first floor was filled with clothes and shoes, so much that you couldn't see the bed he was sleeping in, which was in the living room. The poor little schnauzer was living in a crate in the basement that was covered in poop. As much as Matt and I didn't want to get involved in Frank's life, eventually we had to.
When Frank came for Thanksgiving dinner he told us that the bank sold his mortgage to another bank and he hadn't gotten a bill in a long time so he thought that they forgot about him. By Christmas, he was convinced that his house was paid off and he had stopped paying any bill except the cable tv. Sometime after the new year, Frank came over and showed us a letter he had received saying that he was being foreclosed on. That was when Matt had to go over and see what was going on.
Matt arrived at Frank's house and saw the dilapidated appearance outside, but that was nothing compared to the inside of the house. There were garbage bags, sleeping bags, tents, blankets, clothes, probably thirty suits and fifty pairs of shoes piled in the room. Trash was strewn everywhere and the place smelled like poop. The poor dog was filthy, but he seemed happy although too eager for attention with jumping and barking. Matt found the mail. It was piled by the front door where it landed after Frank took it out of the mailbox. Unopened letters and bills were piled a foot high three feet wide. The only reason he saw the foreclosure letter is because it came registered and he signed for it. All of a sudden, all the nagging thoughts he was trying to ignore came crashing in on Matt. This is serious, but what is it? What is causing Frank to behave this way?
Matt thought that maybe it would be a good idea to let Frank's attorney, Nicholas Zinc know about the foreclosure to see what he could do. Frank thought it was a great idea and couldn't wait to introduce Matt to Nicholas. Matt said "shouldn't we call first Frank?" Frank said, "Naw, I always go over, he doesn't mind." They jumped in Frank's truck and pulled up to a large brick building that looked like an old factory. Frank hopped out and started climbing a fire escape on the side of the building. "Frank, what are you doing?!" a concerned Matt shouted out. There was no door in sight on that side of the building. "C'mon Matt, I do this all the time!" Reluctantly, Matt followed Frank up the fire escape and in through an open window. There was Nicholas Zinc at a large desk working on papers. He looked up with a tired expression without the least bit of shock or surprise that two men just climbed through his window. "Hey Nick, I want you to meet my brother, umm . . . uhhh . . . " "Hi Nick, I'm Matt" Nicholas was polite, but looked weary. "Sorry about the window." "Yeah, that's okay, Frank does that all the time, I'm used to it. He's actually here a lot." Nicholas told them that the foreclosure could be stopped if Frank became current on his mortgage. Matt lent Frank the money because he would become homeless if the house was gone and he did not want to see that, and even more, he did not want to see Frank at our doorstep.
Frank was thrilled to be back in the guard, but this was 2006 and there were some questions about being called up to Iraq. National Guards across the country were being activated to serve in the full military. That day did come. Frank told us that his unit was being activated and he was going to be deployed to Egypt by Christmas. I expressed concern to Matt. Due to his new behavior and language issues, I would not want Frank with a gun backing me up, that I know. We waited for news of his deployment, but Frank never seemed to know what was going on. Christmas 2006 came and went and Frank was still with us. I asked him if his unit shipped out and he said they did. I asked him why he didn't go and he said it was because he didn't get his physical form filled out in time. If there are any tests of mental competency, which I hope there are, that would be the reason. Whether he knew the real reason and didn't want to say, or he just couldn't comprehend what happened, I'll never know.
Fall 2007, Vincent went to visit Frank at his house. Everyone was concerned about Frank and his behavior lately, so while Vince and his family were passing through on their vacation they stopped in. Later, Vincent called Matt to tell him that Frank needed help. He was at the house and it was in a shambles. He had a truck parked in the back yard covered in grass. The first floor was filled with clothes and shoes, so much that you couldn't see the bed he was sleeping in, which was in the living room. The poor little schnauzer was living in a crate in the basement that was covered in poop. As much as Matt and I didn't want to get involved in Frank's life, eventually we had to.
When Frank came for Thanksgiving dinner he told us that the bank sold his mortgage to another bank and he hadn't gotten a bill in a long time so he thought that they forgot about him. By Christmas, he was convinced that his house was paid off and he had stopped paying any bill except the cable tv. Sometime after the new year, Frank came over and showed us a letter he had received saying that he was being foreclosed on. That was when Matt had to go over and see what was going on.
Matt arrived at Frank's house and saw the dilapidated appearance outside, but that was nothing compared to the inside of the house. There were garbage bags, sleeping bags, tents, blankets, clothes, probably thirty suits and fifty pairs of shoes piled in the room. Trash was strewn everywhere and the place smelled like poop. The poor dog was filthy, but he seemed happy although too eager for attention with jumping and barking. Matt found the mail. It was piled by the front door where it landed after Frank took it out of the mailbox. Unopened letters and bills were piled a foot high three feet wide. The only reason he saw the foreclosure letter is because it came registered and he signed for it. All of a sudden, all the nagging thoughts he was trying to ignore came crashing in on Matt. This is serious, but what is it? What is causing Frank to behave this way?
Matt thought that maybe it would be a good idea to let Frank's attorney, Nicholas Zinc know about the foreclosure to see what he could do. Frank thought it was a great idea and couldn't wait to introduce Matt to Nicholas. Matt said "shouldn't we call first Frank?" Frank said, "Naw, I always go over, he doesn't mind." They jumped in Frank's truck and pulled up to a large brick building that looked like an old factory. Frank hopped out and started climbing a fire escape on the side of the building. "Frank, what are you doing?!" a concerned Matt shouted out. There was no door in sight on that side of the building. "C'mon Matt, I do this all the time!" Reluctantly, Matt followed Frank up the fire escape and in through an open window. There was Nicholas Zinc at a large desk working on papers. He looked up with a tired expression without the least bit of shock or surprise that two men just climbed through his window. "Hey Nick, I want you to meet my brother, umm . . . uhhh . . . " "Hi Nick, I'm Matt" Nicholas was polite, but looked weary. "Sorry about the window." "Yeah, that's okay, Frank does that all the time, I'm used to it. He's actually here a lot." Nicholas told them that the foreclosure could be stopped if Frank became current on his mortgage. Matt lent Frank the money because he would become homeless if the house was gone and he did not want to see that, and even more, he did not want to see Frank at our doorstep.
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