The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel) (6 page)

T
he last thing Dillon ever wanted to do was take advice from the likes of Melissa, but as it had turned out he was preparing to do just that. She’d suggested yesterday that he sit down and talk to his father, so he was now only minutes away from the church. He still didn’t feel as though he should have to tell his father to spend more time with him or that he should acknowledge him as his son a lot more than he had been. But the more he’d sat and wrestled with so many overwhelming thoughts, he hadn’t seen where he had any other options. Maybe speaking with him face-to-face was the only way to get through to him, so Dillon had decided to give it a try.

Dillon drove into the church parking lot and rolled past his father’s black SUV, which was parked in a spot specifically reserved for him, but when he saw Charlotte getting out of her Mercedes, he cringed. That witch now looked him dead in his face, smirking, but she refused to speak to him. It was as if he was a nonentity, and even with no verbal communication, the cunning and very disapproving look she tossed his way said everything.

Dillon got out of his black Cadillac Escalade, the same model his father owned, but as he walked past Charlotte’s vehicle he couldn’t help reading the sign in front of it:
RESERVED FOR FIRST LADY BLACK
. What a joke. That woman didn’t deserve as much as a cool drink of water on a hot day in the desert, let alone a reserved parking spot. She so had everyone fooled, even her own husband, but not Dillon. He knew her better than she realized, and what he was mostly waiting on was for her to slip up again and hurt his father. Dillon had heard lots of awful stories about her past, and with tramps like Charlotte it was only a matter of time before they slept around again. When she did, Dillon would take full advantage of the situation. He wasn’t sure how exactly, but he knew he’d enjoy her demise.

As Dillon went inside the church, his phone rang. He pulled it out and frowned when he saw that it was Melissa. He couldn’t imagine what she could possibly want, especially since it had been only a half hour since he’d left home. She was so clingy and such a pest sometimes, so he quickly pressed Ignore and kept walking.

“How are you, Miss Lana,” he said when he walked into the administrative offices.

“Hey, Dillon,” she said, smiling brightly. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Just here to see my dad. You?”

“Doing well, so I can’t complain.”

Dillon smiled back at her. Lana had always treated him with the utmost respect, and he’d liked her from the very beginning. Even when none of them had known who he was when he’d first begun attending the church, he could tell how kind Lana was. His father saw her as a mother figure, and Dillon understood why. She was genuine, and she cared about people. She was someone that trick, Charlotte, could learn from.

“Your dad is waiting for you, son, so please go right in.”

“Thanks, Miss Lana.”

Dillon knocked and opened the door almost at the same time.

“Hey son,” Curtis said, smiling, walking toward him and hugging him.

“Hey Dad,” he said, glad that Charlotte wasn’t in there.

“So what’s goin’ on?” he asked, strutting back around his desk and sitting down. “You finally ready to take me up on my offer? Ready to come work for the church?”

Dillon hated when he brought this up. He did it all the time, but working here was the last thing Dillon wanted to do. He knew he needed to be diplomatic in his response, though.

Dillon took a seat in front of him. “No…at least not yet, anyway. But if I don’t find something in a couple of months or so, I’ll think more about it.”

“I’m glad, son, because sitting around with no real responsibilities isn’t good. An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.”

Good grief. Why was his dad doing this? Why was he trying to force Dillon to take a job he didn’t want or force him to go work for anyone? It wasn’t like he was broke and unable to pay his bills—his father had seen to that when he’d given him that money—so why couldn’t he let well enough alone and simply let Dillon find his own way? More important, why couldn’t he spend more time focusing on them as father and son versus mentor and mentee? He didn’t need his father’s career advice, what he needed was his love and understanding.

Dillon leaned back in the chair. “I know, and I’ll decide on something soon. What I’d like to do is start my own business.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that either. What kind of business are you considering? Maybe I can help you with that.”

Why wouldn’t he just leave this alone?

“I’ve been playing around with a few ideas, but I haven’t decided on anything.”

“Well, in the meantime, you could also go back to school. We’ve talked about that before, too.”

No, you’ve talked about it. All I’ve done is listen.
“Maybe,” Dillon finally said. “We’ll see.”

“At least think about it, son. Nothing would make me happier than to see you enter a reputable university. I wanted the same thing for Matthew and wish he’d stayed at Harvard,” he said in a slightly sad tone. “But enough of that. What did you wanna see me about?”

“Us.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t feel included. After all this time, I still feel like an outsider and like I don’t count.”

Curtis squinted his eyes. “Really? Why?”

“I just do. I mean, Dad, you didn’t even tell me you were gonna return to the pulpit. And to me that’s the kind of thing a father would immediately share with his son.”

“Is that what this is all about? I guess it never dawned on me that I hadn’t.”

“But Dad, I was just at your house on Friday. Then two days later you made the announcement.”

“Yeah, but I’d made the decision to return a few weeks ago. So when you were visiting on Friday, it never crossed my mind. That’s probably why no one else talked about it either.”

“Oh, so Alicia and Phillip knew way back when also?”

Curtis sighed and leaned his elbows on his desk. “Actually, they did. But only because Alicia called me the day I’d made up my mind.”

“But you still never thought to call and tell me, too?”

“Son, I just didn’t think about it, but it wasn’t on purpose. I know this might be hard for you to understand and it also doesn’t justify my actions, but my role as a father to you is still evolving. I love you, and I would do anything for you, but when you meet a child for the first time at twenty-seven years old, it takes a lot of adjusting. So it’s not like I didn’t wanna call you or that I chose not to call you, I simply just didn’t think about it. Even when we had conversations after I made my decision, it just didn’t enter my mind. I didn’t think about it.”

Dillon heard what he was saying but mostly he dwelled on “my role as a father to you is still evolving.” So what did that mean exactly? When would it be
finished
evolving, and when would he finally be accepted as a legitimate son and not treated like some bastard child nobody wanted?

“But,” Curtis continued, “I’m really sorry, son, because I had no idea. I’m sorry your feelings were hurt by this.”

“It’s not just that. It’s everything. You never even invited me to go fishing with you and Phillip. And I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever fit in period and if you’ll ever love me the way you love your other children.”

“How could I not? I know I abandoned you when you were just a baby and that there’s a lot of bad history, but if I didn’t love you, son, I wouldn’t have called you to my hospital bed the way I did. I certainly wouldn’t have apologized to a son who lured me out to a strip club to be beaten half to death. I wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t wanted to become a father to you. Love is something that has to grow, and over the last year I’ve definitely come to love you more and more.”

“It’s still not the same. When I see you with Alicia and Curtina, it’s different. It’s like they’re everything to you. Even when you talk about Matthew, who you haven’t seen in forever, the love you have for him is obvious. But with me, it’s like you could take me or leave me and you’d be fine.”

“That’s just not true, and I’m sorry you feel this way.”

“Then there’s your wife,” Dillon said, definitely not wanting to leave her out of the conversation.

“What about her?”

“She hates the sight of me. She hates everything about me, and she makes me uncomfortable.”

“Your being my son has taken some getting used to for her. But it’ll happen, and things will be better.”

Dillon looked at his dad but knew a loving relationship with Charlotte was out of the question. Just as he was about to say something else, though, his dad’s phone rang.

“Hey Lana…oh yeah that’s right…I didn’t realize it was so late…I’ll be there shortly,” he said and hung up. “I’m sorry to cut this short, son, but I have a staff meeting to get to. I guess my time sort of got away from me.”

Wow. So, here Dillon was face-to-face with his dad, pouring his heart out, yet his dad was getting ready to rush off to some church meeting? Didn’t he know family came before anything? Couldn’t he see how upset Dillon was and that what he needed was for his father to pay some attention to him? Reassure him that he truly did love him and that he was proud to have him as a son?

Curtis grabbed his leather pad folio and a pen and got up. “Why don’t we talk this evening, son?”

Dillon stood up. “I guess.”

Curtis placed his arm around Dillon’s shoulder. “I’m serious. It sounds like you have a lot of doubts about our relationship, and I want us to work on that.”

Dillon didn’t say anything, but when they walked out of Curtis’s office, they hugged and Dillon went on his way. Instead of feeling better about things, though, he felt worse and he wanted out of there. But to his great disappointment, as he continued down the hallway, he just so happened to look inside Charlotte’s office. Her door was wide open and as soon as she spied him, she laughed in a sarcastic sort of way and shook her head at him. She laughed like he was the most pathetic thing she’d ever seen, and before he’d realized it he’d stepped inside and slammed her door.

It was amazing how quickly that dirty smile of hers vanished.

“What are you doing?” she asked, clearly not knowing how to react. “Get out of here, Dillon.”

“Just shut up, Charlotte. You’ve been taunting at me for more than a year now, and I’m sick of it.”

She picked up her office phone, looking scared to death. “I’m calling security.”

Dillon rushed over and snatched the receiver away from her. “You’re not callin’ anybody.”

Charlotte stood up and backed away from her desk. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Now Dillon was the one laughing. “Yeah, well, you should be. You should be terrified, because I’m not someone to be played with.”

“You’d better get out of my office,” she said. Her tone was stern and threatening. “And if I were you, I’d pack my little rags and head back to wherever it is you said you came from. Because nobody wants you here, Dillon. You’re beneath the rest of us, and nothing will ever change that.”

“Look, skank. You’d better check that nasty attitude of yours or else.”

“Or else what? And who’re you callin’ a skank? It sounds to me like your
mother
was the skank of the century. The woman was a veteran stripper.”

“Don’t you ever mention my mother to me.” Dillon spoke through clenched teeth, fighting with all his might, trying not to grab Charlotte.

“You wait until I tell Curtis about you being in my office.”

“You’re not gonna tell my dad anything.”

“Just watch me.”

“If you say one word, then I’ll just have to tell him your little secret.”

Charlotte laughed out loud again. “Please. I don’t have any secrets.”

Dillon didn’t have a thing on her—at least not yet—but he sensed a certain nervousness about her, and that told him he was on to something. “Everybody has secrets, sweetheart, but the secret I’m talking about…well, let’s just say if my dad ever finds out about it, you’ll be signing divorce papers. He’ll never even speak to you again. So just keep pushin’ me, Charlotte. Keep messin’ with me, and I’ll sing like a Grammy winner.”

“I want you out of here,” she said, clearly frustrated, so now Dillon wondered what secret she was in fact keeping from his father.

“See ya later,” Dillon said, laughing. “Charlotte the Harlot.”

Dillon walked out of her office and for some reason, he felt relieved. He’d finally gotten something on Charlotte. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but he was certainly going to figure it out. He would dig deep, searching for proof of whatever it was she was hiding, and he would use it against her. He would make her sorry she ever met him in the first place.

M
atthew dried off MJ and smoothed baby lotion over his little body. MJ smiled joyfully, the way he always did, but Matthew could barely keep his eyes open. He’d tried his best to fall asleep—because Racquel certainly hadn’t had a problem doing so—but he hadn’t been able to. He’d had too much on his mind, and he was troubled about his future. Everything was falling apart, and to make things worse, Racquel didn’t care about any of their problems in the least. Matthew was shocked, of course, at how suddenly she’d turned into this upbeat twenty-year-old with brand-new college ambitions, but what he mostly couldn’t fathom was her lack of concern for MJ. She’d gone from loving their son, protecting him and obsessing over him, to now not paying him any attention at all? Things just didn’t add up, and for the life of him, Matthew couldn’t understand it. He wanted answers—needed answers—but Racquel wasn’t giving any explanations. At one point, she had mentioned how it was time she took care of herself, but it still didn’t make sense. This strange turn of emotions wasn’t normal, and Matthew knew she needed help.

“So you all ready, little man,” he said to MJ and kissed him on the cheek. He finished putting on his son’s pants and shirt, and now he just had to grab his bag and get his keys. After last night’s drama, he’d called Aunt Emma and asked her if she could keep MJ for them. He hadn’t told her why, but she’d said yes and hadn’t asked any questions. He was glad about that, because he didn’t want to hear any of her lectures about his parents. She was never rude or overbearing, but every now and then she tried to talk him into forgiving his parents and going over to see them. She talked a lot about letting bygones be bygones, and she frequently reminded him of how short life was. He never said anything out of the way to her, because he would never disrespect her, but he never commented when she brought up the subject, either. He also didn’t want to tell her how bad things were between him and Racquel, because he didn’t want his parents to know about that. Before he’d ended his relationship with them, they’d both advised him to stay in school and had thought he was too young to be getting married. But he hadn’t listened.

When Matthew carried MJ out to the living room, he looked at Racquel but she pretended she didn’t see them.

“I’m taking MJ over to Aunt Emma’s.”

“That’s a good idea. He loves her.”

Matthew stared at her for a few seconds but then picked up his keys and walked out the door. There was so much to say, yet nothing to say at all. It felt like he was dreaming, but he knew this disaster was very real—it was more like a living nightmare.

After buckling MJ into his car seat, Matthew double-checked it, making sure he was secure, and went around to the driver’s side. Before he got in, though, he just so happened to look toward the building and up at the second floor. Racquel was looking down at him from the window. He watched her, but soon she closed the mini-blinds as though she hadn’t seen him.

As Matthew drove away, he positioned his Bluetooth and called his mother-in-law. Vanessa answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Matt,” she said with a smile in her voice. Sometimes she seemed more like a mother to him than a mother-in-law, and right now he needed that.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. Just trying to get a little work done, but how are you? And how’re Racquel and my little grandson?”

Matthew felt tears filling his eyes and though he had his sunglasses on and no one could see them, he was ashamed. Here he was, some six-foot-two twenty-year-old, yet he was hurting and wanting to cry like a child. It was so embarrassing, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Things are really bad.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Racquel. She’s decided to go back to school. She says she’s leaving in September.”

“What? Well, she sure hasn’t mentioned anything to me or her dad.”

Matthew told Vanessa how he’d seen Jasmine at the store and how he’d invited her over to talk to Racquel. Then he told her about how she’d admitted to treating MJ.

“I just can’t believe what I’m hearing,” she said. “Oh my goodness, Matt. So she’s been letting MJ cry himself to sleep?”

“Yeah. Then, this morning when I told her I was taking him to my aunt Emma’s, she was fine with that, too. She doesn’t care about either of us anymore.”

“Oh Matt, something’s very wrong with her.”

“I know, and she also said she would give me a divorce.”

“I am so, so sorry this is happening. The two of you have been through so much, and it really breaks my heart.”

“I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I will tell you this. While I didn’t think so before now, I think Racquel is dealing with postpartum depression. Her dad and I have always known she was depressed and that’s why we’ve always tried to make her get some help, but we didn’t think it was related to MJ. We just thought it was because of MJ being taken from her. We didn’t think it was postpartum, because Racquel has always seemed so in love with MJ. She’s never wanted to be without him.”

“I thought MJ was her entire world, but now we know otherwise. She hasn’t touched him or said anything to him since I got home yesterday.”

“We have to talk to her. So, can you ask your aunt Emma if she can keep MJ a little longer this evening? That way her dad and I can come over. Maybe if the three of us sit down with her together, she’ll listen.”

“She’s never listened to us in the past, but I’m willing to try.”

“What time can you be home?”

“About six.”

“Okay, then, we’ll meet you at your apartment.”

“Thanks, Mom. And I’m sorry to bother you with all this.”

“Racquel is our daughter, MJ is our grandson, and we love all three of you, honey. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, drive safe and try to have a good day at work.”

“I will,” he said, but he knew that was impossible. Until things were handled with Racquel, he didn’t see how he could enjoy anything. Especially not a job where he had to see and talk to people, because right now, all he wanted was to go home, close up in his bedroom, and sleep his troubles away. This was certainly out of the question, though, since he couldn’t afford to miss as much as a couple of hours, let alone a full day. Still, that’s what he wanted to do…but so much for wishful thinking.