The Fall of the Prodigal (26 page)

“Put your big panties on and speak to your son,” were Michael's words of advice before he left. Verona had recounted her father's suggestion to have a heart-to-heart talk with Elijah. Michael agreed.

Verona tapped the steering wheel as she waited for Elijah to arrive. She had arranged with the Smith's to pick him up outside his school that Friday. She did not want to put off their conversation for another moment. There were things she needed to say.

Once Elijah was inside the car, she decided to drive to the beach. She spread the blanket while Elijah hoisted the picnic basket. Verona packed all the usual suspects—PBJ, turkey, assorted fruit, cakes, chips, water, juice, and sodas—to feed an army or in this case one hungry teenager. In her defense, she didn't know what he liked.

Elijah's eyes popped when he saw the food. “Are we feeding the five thousand or something?”

Verona cracked up. “You sound like your grandfather. That's something he'd say.”

“I know. Everyone says I'm not the typical teenager.” He grabbed a paper plate and heaped an assortment of foods on his plate.

“I believe you. Honestly, I know I wasn't always in your life, but I'm proud to be your mother. I know I'm not your mom, but . . .” She trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“It's okay. I know what you mean.”

Verona watched as Elijah munched on an apple. She had to ask, “Is this how you are all the time? So agreeable?” Verona did not know teens like this existed. When she was a teen it was all about mutiny and being misunderstood.

Elijah had the grace to blush. “Yes, because I have a bad temper. I try hard not to lose it.”

“Now that I can relate to.” She chuckled. She toyed with her food.
Lord, help me not mess up this conversation.
“Elijah, I wanted to ask you something and I hope you'll be honest with me.”

He nodded.

“Um.” She ran her fingers through her hair while she figured out how to ask the big question. “Are you mad at me for not coming back home all these years?”

He set down his plate and could not quite meet her eyes. “I wondered about you. I wondered if you wanted me. Nana told me you loved me but you never called, you never sent a birthday card.” He shrugged. “I mean, nothing.”

Verona was afraid to touch him though she ached to make some physical contact. “I know my words may sound like air to you but I do love you.”

“Then why did it take thirteen years for my mother who claims she loves me to find me?” He broke. In one breath, he spewed all his pent-up emotions. “You are this big-shot attorney and you couldn't have gone to court or something? I don't get it.”

She touched his shoulder. “Were you unhappy with the Smith's?”

“No,” he declared. “But they aren't you. I'm grateful for them and they've been the best parents in the world, but it's not the same.”

Verona tried to hug him, knowing he had to let it out. Elijah shrugged her off. “No, don't touch me right now.” His chest heaved as he visibly struggled to regain control.

Never had she felt so helpless and guilty. Was this how she made her own parents feel? Verona pushed her food aside.

Elijah jumped up. “I didn't mean to get upset,” he mumbled. “I'll be back.”

“Do you want me to come with you?

He shook his head. “No, I need some space.”

Verona curled her body, feeling defeated as Elijah stomped toward the shoreline. They had been getting along well before she had dredged up the painful past. Maybe she should have left well enough alone. Now she had a sulky teenager on her hands.

Shielding her eyes against the sun, Verona spotted Elijah kicking the sand near the edge of the water. He dug into his pants and took out his cell phone. Verona saw him clutch the phone to his ear. His voice carried, but she could not make out any words. Elijah was talking to someone on the phone. He chatted for several minutes before trudging his way back to her.

She was dying to know whom he had been talking to but knew it was not her place to ask. She watched him circle his foot into the sand.

“Um, Mother, can we go please?” he asked.

Verona could not tell from Elijah's tone if he was mad, sad, or indifferent and that slashed at her heart. Logically, she knew it would take time to build a relationship with her son, but her heart ached.

Verona nodded and gathered the paraphernalia of their outing. Elijah helped her to her feet. She gave him a small smile when he offered to carry the basket. In spite of everything, she could appreciate his being a gentleman. They meandered their way through the sand and packed the vehicle.

Before she drove off, Verona had to say something. “Elijah, I love you. I've loved you from the day you were born. I'm sorry it took me fifteen years to tell you that. I know it's hard, but I want us to have a relationship. I won't try to take your mother's place but I'd like to be more than your koala bear.”

“Koala bear?” He chuckled.

Her odd phrasing lightened the air and her heavy heart. “Okay, it's a poor and corny analogy.”

“I called my mom,” he confessed in a small voice.

“Oh?” Gripping the wheel, Verona strove to sound normal although jealousy filled her at his loving tone. Elijah's eyes were pinned on her gauging her reaction to his talking about his mom. She knew she had better make him believe she was cool with it.

Keeping her tone neutral, she asked, “What did your mom say?”

“She said I needed to remember you weren't much older than me when you found out you were pregnant. She said I needed to put myself in your place because you were a kid and unsure. She made sure to tell me I must still respect you no matter what,” Elijah said.

Verona was surprised at Sister Smith's defense. Nevertheless, she did not show that in her answer. “And, what do you think about her advice?”

“I felt better after I spoke to her. I know if I was to get some girl pregnant, I'd be scared and wouldn't know what to do.”

She slanted Elijah a warning look. “And, trust me you don't want to find out.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Don't worry. I'm safe. I'm cool.”

What did that mean? Was her son having sex? Did he have a girlfriend? Well, whoever she was, Verona did not like her. “You have a girlfriend?”

“No, I don't. I need a job first. Girls are expensive,” he said.

She cracked up. “You'll have more women than you'll know how to handle in time. For now, you need to remain in school and focus on your singing.”

He chuckled and relaxed his body further in the cushion of the car. “You sound like a mother.”

“I am a mother,” she said. “I may not be Mom to you, but I am your mother.”

“I can deal with that.”

She smiled. So could she.

How wrong he had been. Lauren was not yelling or screaming when Michael uttered the words to end their engagement. She was staring at him with unblinking eyes and it was unnerving.

The children were already in bed when he had arrived at her place that Friday night. She had flung her arms around him and chattered about their wedding. Michael extricated her arms from around his neck, before saying, “Lauren, we need to talk.”

His grave tone cooled her enthusiasm and she eyed him with wary eyes. “What's going on?”

“You're the mother of my children and I love you for that but I can't marry you.”

That's what he had said and five minutes later, Lauren still had not responded. It was as if she was frozen. He could not stand the silence. “Lauren?”

She exhaled with a whoosh of air. “Excuse me. For a moment, I thought you were breaking things off with me.”

“I was. I mean I am,” Michael stammered. What was going on with her?

Lauren poked him in the chest. “No, you're not. You're not tossing me aside again. You're going to marry me and be a father to your children.”

Her calmly spoken words freaked him out, but Michael was not going to let her bully him. “I will be a good father to John and Olivia, the best they ever need. However, I will not be marrying you. I don't love you.”

She inhaled.

He regretted his harsh words but he owed Lauren the truth. With a tone laced with sympathy, he continued, “You deserve a man who will love you and cherish you. I'm not that person and I don't want to hurt you.”

“For someone who doesn't want to hurt me, you're doing a bang-up job,” she scoffed.

He needed to leave. “We'll talk later. Once you think about it, you'll appreciate me for saving us heartache in the future.”

“Keep your sugary words.” Lauren rolled her eyes and tapped her feet.

Michael ambled toward the door. He wanted to see the children but did not want to push his luck by asking her if he could visit with them.

Michael's hand was on the front doorknob when the tapping stopped. Lauren's next words chilled him to the bone.

“If you don't marry me, I'll kill myself. I'll kill myself and the children.”

Michael advanced on her until he was up in her face. “Take that back!” he yelled.

Lauren's face remained expressionless. “I mean it,” she said. She didn't back down instead she met his gaze head-on.

For a second, Michael entertained visions of wrapping his hands around her neck, but he counted to ten.
Lord, help me.
He would not harm her. He used his hands to undo the buttons on his coat.

There was no way he was leaving Lauren alone after she had said those words. He debated calling the cops but nixed that idea. He doubted they'd believe the potential rapist, even though he had been exonerated. Michael considered calling Lauren's bluff but what if the heifer actually meant it?

Instead, he found himself saying, “I'm sorry, Lauren. I must have a slight case of cold feet. We'll get married.”

Instantly, Lauren's demeanor changed and she was happy again. Chipper, she clapped her hands and carried on as if she had not threatened him with a murder-suicide scenario. Lauren presented him with wedding cake pictures and decoration possibilities until his head spun.

Michael only said the words to appease her. He was biding his time until he figured his way out of the situation. He had a restless night. The sun rose and Michael still didn't know how to remove himself from Lauren's clutches.

Sitting in church Sabbath morning, Michael still had not figured out what to do. After positioning herself as close to him as possible, Lauren gripped his hand so hard her nails scraped his palm. Michael pulled on his shirt collar and tried to pretend everything was all right.

People were lifting their hands and praising God around him. They were carefree but he felt trapped. He was replaying the scene inside Lauren's home after she had uttered those fateful words.

Michael had called Keith last night but had not reached him. He planned on soliciting his brother's help. Michael bobbed his head to the praise songs, but inside he had needles lining his stomach.

He could not catch a break. Michael had gotten rid of one cross and it seemed as if he had picked up another. He should be skipping down the aisles like the sister with the banana hat was doing right now. He had been cleared of a vicious crime. He was not going to spend his life behind bars. Nevertheless, Michael was now imprisoned with an invisible noose. And, she had claws.

He watched Lauren under hooded lashes. This time he pulled at the tie around his neck.

“Do you need me to adjust that for you?” Lauren asked him with a sweet voice.

Michael saw her angelic face and creased his forehead. How could Lauren act normal after her outlandish words last night? He shook his head at her, and she went back to her singing.

Lauren raised her hands and shouted “Hallelujah's” at the top of her lungs.

At that moment, Michael knew what crazy was like. Mindy was sick. Lauren was plumb crazy. For some reason, Frank entered his mind. Frank could take care of Lauren for him if he gave the word. Michael would never have to deal with her again.

He had heard those words before. He knew the voice.
I'm trying, Lord,
Michael answered. Could he trust God? His heart thumped. He thought about Frank. He thought about God. He had to make a choice once and for all.

Keith's voice permeated his conscious mind. It was time for the sermon. “Today, I'm going to talk about choice. Making the right choice.”

Mindy entered the sanctuary with her head down. The usher led her close to the front and she did not want to attract attention. Mindy received a couple frosty glances for being late, but most of the faces she encountered were friendly.

Pastor Keith stepped up to the podium. She squirmed. Some of the women were wearing some big hats and one happened to be in her direct line of vision. This lady's hat was like a pineapple slice. Mindy angled her head seeking a better view. Her neck was going to hurt in this position. There was only one thing to do.

Mindy tapped the woman on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but can you take your hat off? I can't see.”

The lady gave her a wide-eyed stare. A man sitting next to her, whom Mindy presumed to be the husband, guffawed. “I told her she shouldn't wear that boat today. Didn't I tell you, Pearl? It's only good for rainy days.”

Several people chuckled and Mindy covered her mouth.

“Shut up, Hugh,” Pearl commanded, but removed her hat and smoothed her wig.

“Thank you,” Mindy whispered.

Bill squeezed in next to her just as Pastor Keith began to talk about choice. She whispered, “What took you so long?”

“I had to find a parking space,” Bill said a wee bit too loud.

Pearl turned to shush them. Mindy gave a sheepish smile. She settled under the crook of her father's arm to listen to the message.

 

 

Three souls. He was expecting three souls this Sabbath. Keith's eyes surveyed the crowd. He winked at Gina who was sitting in the front pew with Trey. E.J. was in children's church. Two rows behind her was his brother. Beside Michael, he saw Lauren. Nigel was in the back somewhere. He had texted Keith to tell him of his arrival.

His vote would be on Lauren.

He knew Michael was one.

Mindy was the other. Keith looked through the rows to see if she had arrived. She promised him she would be there. Keith had told the usher to place Mindy a few rows behind the others, if she came. He wanted to be able to see her.

Yup. The third soul had to be Lauren. That would make things right. Excited at the prospect, Keith racked his brain to remember how many other couples he had baptized together. It might be two or three, but whatever the number, it did not happen that often. The fact that it would be Michael and his intended was a coup Keith could not resist. He planned on bragging to the congregation, to the world, when that time came.

He adjusted his tie. God had given him the right message befitting the occasion. Keith smiled, thinking of the outcome.

He stepped up to the podium. Mindy had arrived.
Good,
he thought. All was as it should be.
Wait, did she ask Missionary Pearl Matthews to remove her hat?
Keith stifled a giggle by turning it into a quick praise. He hoped he remembered to tell Gina later.

Keith addressed the congregation. “Before I get into my topic, I'm glad to see my brother, Michael here. Seated next to him is Ms. Lauren Goodman. Some of you might remember she's been here a few times. Please give this couple a Zion's Hill welcome.”

Keith emphasized the word “couple.” He knew the single sisters would not be too happy. Keith watched as several people hugged and kissed Michael and Lauren before getting back to the message.

“Today, I want to talk to you about choice.” Was that Bill Laurelton he saw coming in? Inside, Keith groaned. He hoped Bill did not come to cause any more problems for Michael because Keith would not tolerate it.

He continued, “In our lives, we will come to many forks in the road, where we will have to make a choice. The question is not whether we have a choice, but which choice is best? Which choice puts us on the right path to where God wants us to be?”

Okay, Bill had settled in with Mindy. All was well. Keith relaxed. Now he could close his eyes. “Pray with me,” he directed and bowed his head. “Lord, I ask that your Holy Spirit speak through me and direct me so I can lead your people on the right path today. Let every word I speak line up in accordance with your Word. I ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.

“Turn your Bibles to First Kings 18 and verse 21. It reads, ‘And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him.'”

Keith heard several shouts of praise and took a sip of water. “Our Heavenly Father asked us not to have any other god besides Him. In this scripture, Baal was a manmade god of stone but a god can represent anything that distracts you: money, possessions, power, drugs, alcohol to name a few. What is your god? Perhaps, it's none of those. Perhaps it's women or sex. What is it you find hard to give up?”

He paused. Someone shouted, “Preach it, Pastor!”

“Close your eyes and think about what you want most in the world.” He waited until most of the congregation had complied. “Whatever it is you're picturing is a god. My question today is, is it worth your soul? What is the point of holding on to that one thing if you lose your soul?

“Elijah presented the people with a question and today I ask the same question. If you're halting between two opinions, today is the day to make a choice. God is asking you to choose Him. Love Him. Accept Him. If you need help making the right choice, come forward today.”

Keith gave the signal and the choir stood. The minister of music, Zara Anderson, came forward and she began to sing: “‘I come to the garden alone.'”

He saw Michael stalk toward the altar.

“‘While the dew is still on the roses,'” Zara sang.

Keith saw Mindy step out into the aisle. She swayed but stayed where she was. Keith spoke into his microphone, “Don't be afraid. Come.”

“‘And the voice I hear falling on my ear. The son of God discloses.'”

Lauren had her hands held high. Her head was thrown back but she was not budging. Keith watched her for the duration of the song, but she didn't leave her seat. He sagged a little. He had made the call and couldn't force anyone to comply.

Keith gestured to Zara to sing the refrain one more time. He and the deacons and prayer warriors went over to those who came to the altar and prayed with them. Still, Keith didn't lose hope. As he prayed, he watched. Gina went to stand with Mindy. He prayed for another person, however; his eyes remained on the lookout for a certain redhead.

One who was now sitting in her seat, contented.

He sighed.
Lord, give me patience.
He ended his prayer.

Keith returned the podium and everyone returned to his or her seat. It was time for the benediction. Keith paused. He had to try one last time. “I would like to do a special prayer. If you have decided you want to accept Jesus as your personal Savior, please come forward, even if you were just up here.”

Michael came forward.

Mindy came forward.

No Lauren.
Maybe it was Nigel?
But he had not spotted Nigel in the throng at all.

Gina slid her finger across her throat telling Keith to quit dragging and close the service. The musicians strummed a tune. All right, he would wrap it up.

After Keith anointed them, he bent his head and began to pray. “Holy Father, I ask that you commit these souls into the book of life. They've made the choice today to put their lives into your hands. They are here to accept the gift of salvation. Lord, I ask you to wash their sins. Heal them from all past pain, hurt, and illnesses. Heal them both spiritually and physically. Bless them with abundant life. In Jesus' name. Amen.”

He entered a higher realm and rejoiced for the souls who had come forward. When he opened his eyes, he stepped back in shock. God had a wicked sense of humor.

Bill Laurelton.
Bill Laurelton was the third soul.