The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel) (16 page)

D
illon was finally only twenty minutes away from Mitchell. It had been a rough few days, but he had made it through the funeral and was almost home from the airport. He hadn’t realized his aunt knew so many people. She didn’t attend a large church, but there must have been at least two hundred people who’d come to pay their respects, and it was mostly her church members and coworkers who’d filled the sanctuary to capacity. It was clear that she was loved by many, and Dillon was happy about that. Everyone who’d approached him, both during the visitation period and after the funeral, had spoken very kindly about his aunt, so she had certainly touched a great number of people in a very special way. One woman had told him how Aunt Susan had been her greatest confidante and that she’d come to love her like a second mother. Then there’d been a young single mother who’d told Dillon that the only reason her children had Christmas was because Aunt Susan had bought all three of them clothes and toys for three years straight.

Dillon had listened to one story after another, but after a while, all they’d done was make him feel guiltier. How could he have walked away from such a wonderful woman and acted as though she didn’t exist? He’d tried his best to justify his actions, but in the end, he knew he’d been wrong for the way he’d treated her and that it would likely haunt him for the rest of his life. He just wished he could have another chance, a few moments even, just so he could tell her how much he loved and appreciated her. No one had ever loved him as unconditionally as she had, but he’d still packed up his things and moved to Illinois like it was no big deal. He hadn’t thought anything about it, because he’d always figured that once he built a great relationship with his dad, he’d be able to spend all the time he wanted with his aunt. Sadly, though, that would never happen.

Dillon gazed out the limo window and was glad he had on sunglasses because his eyes were watering. It was bad enough that Aunt Susan had loved him and done everything she could for him, but even in death, she was still looking out for his best interest. Yesterday, Dillon had gone to meet with her attorney to review her will, and that was when he’d learned that she’d made him the sole beneficiary of two insurance policies that totaled one hundred fifty thousand dollars. Her funeral expenses would be deducted from the fifty-thousand-dollar one, but the rest would be sent to him. She’d also willed him her home, which she owned outright. Dillon would never sell it, though. Her house—his childhood home—was the only real thing he had left of her, so he would keep it and stay there whenever he visited Atlanta.

As the driver continued west on I-90, Dillon leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He so wanted a different kind of life than the one he was living. In a perfect world, his father would love him more than anything, he would have grown up side by side with Alicia and Matthew, and he would have gotten to know Curtina as soon as she’d been born. All three of them would have loved their big brother, and he would have loved them back and protected them from everything. His mother would also be alive, and she would never have stooped low enough to be a stripper. She would have been a woman of integrity and one who’d had a lot more respect for herself. Dillon didn’t think on this level often and he’d certainly never shared his true feelings about his mother with another living soul, but this was the real reason he had very little respect for women. To him, they were all tramps who flaunted their bodies and slept around with as many men as possible, and he’d never trusted one woman he could think of—that is with the exception of Aunt Susan. Other than that, he tended to expect the worse of all women, and he wasn’t sure any woman could ever make him feel differently.

Dillon’s phone rang, and when he saw that it was his father, his spirits lifted. His dad had called to check on him Monday, a couple of hours before the funeral, and then again that night. He hadn’t spoken to him yesterday, though, so he was glad to hear from him now.

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey. So you landed safely I see.”

“I did, and I’m almost home. Maybe another ten minutes or so.”

“Good. And how are you doin’?”

“As well as can be expected. What about you?”

“Well, son, I tell you. I haven’t felt this good in a long while. Matthew and MJ are home, and I’ll finally be able to get all my children together at one time. Since Memorial Day is next Monday, Charlotte and I are thinking about having a cookout. It’ll just be for family. You don’t have any plans, do you?”

“No,” he struggled to say because the last thing Dillon wanted was to spend hours watching his dad having the time of his life with his other children. He’d invited Dillon, but when it was all said and done, Dillon knew he’d be treated like an outsider.

“Great. I’ll keep you posted on the time, and I can’t wait for you to meet your brother and nephew. I’m sorry it has taken as long as it has, but thank God Matthew is back with us.”

Dillon thought about telling his dad that he’d finally decided to come work at the church, but he chose to wait for a better time—such as a few days from now when maybe his dad wouldn’t be so ridiculously focused on Matthew’s return. Dillon was only taking this job as a way to carry out his plans of destruction, but he still wanted his dad to be happy about his decision, and he wanted him to be proud.

After Dillon and Curtis chatted a few minutes longer and ended their call, Carlisle pulled the limo into the driveway. Roger, Dillon’s lawn-care guy, was working away. Normally, he came on Thursdays, so Dillon wondered why he’d come a day early.

Carlisle got out, opened Dillon’s door, and removed his luggage from the trunk.

“Hey, Mr. Whitfield. I’m glad you back, but I’m really sorry ’bout your aunt.”

“I appreciate that, Roger. How come you’re here today?”

“I need to get some dental work done, and they closed on Wednesdays. So, I figured I would come today instead so I could go to my appointment tomorrow. I cleared it with Miss Melissa, and I hope you don’t mind.”

“No problem at all.” Dillon had always wondered why he wouldn’t do something about his mouth, because those missing teeth definitely looked awful. Implants were costly, though, so maybe he wasn’t getting those taken care of at all. He was probably getting more teeth pulled or just a filling.

Roger smiled. “A man just can’t keep runnin’ ’round here like some snaggletoothed first-grader. Not if he wanna catch him a good woman.”

Carlisle laughed as he carried the luggage up to the front door and Roger laughed even louder, but Dillon was embarrassed for him. Roger was so country and uncultured, but Dillon could tell he didn’t know it.

Dillon pushed the luggage farther into the entryway and closed the door. He walked through to the kitchen, skimmed through a stack of mail, and then went upstairs. Melissa was in the den, sitting at the computer. She looked up when she heard him walk in, and the first thing Dillon noticed was that her eye had already healed. Either that or she’d covered it with makeup.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey.”

“So how was your flight?”

“Okay. So did you hire an investigator?”

“Yeah, he started yesterday. So far, he hasn’t found anything we don’t already know about, though.”

“He will, so just tell him to keep searching. I also want him to follow her if he has to.”

“I’ll call him.”

“You can do that later,” he said, moving closer to her, but she stared at the monitor.

“It’s been almost a whole week.”

Melissa didn’t move or say anything, but Dillon forced himself to stay calm.

“I’m asking you nicely,” he said. “I always try to ask you nicely, but when you don’t do what I tell you, Melissa, it makes me angry. Now, take care of me the way I like it. Or else.”

F
our. That was the number of days Matthew had been back home, and he couldn’t be happier. He hadn’t been this content in months. More than anything, though, MJ was safe, and Matthew didn’t have to worry about what Racquel might do to either of them. She’d only been out on bail for two days, but she’d called him at least twenty times. Whenever the phone rang, Matthew checked to see who it was and then hit the Ignore button. He hadn’t seen where they had anything to talk about, and he certainly didn’t want to discuss their getting back together, because he didn’t want that. He also didn’t want his mother-in-law pressuring him about signing any documents. For whatever reason, his father-in-law hadn’t tried to contact him, and Matthew was relieved.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Matt,” Curtina said, sitting next to him in the family room and leaning her head against his arm. She also played with MJ, who was sitting on Matthew’s lap. “Hi, MJ,” she said, touching her nose to his, and he giggled.

MJ was only one, but he and his six-year-old auntie had taken a huge liking to each other, and that made Matthew smile. Curtina had always been fond of MJ, ever since he’d been born—she’d sometimes played with him over at Aunt Emma’s when she spent the night there—but now that the two of them were able to see each other daily, they’d bonded even more.

Charlotte and Curtis walked into the room and sat down on the loveseat.

“So what’s on, son?” Curtis asked.

Matthew picked up the remote control. “Playoffs are starting in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Charlotte pulled her feet onto the loveseat. “The pizza should be here soon. I ordered enough for Jonathan and Elijah, too. Didn’t you say they were coming by?”

“Yep,” he said, smiling because it truly did feel like old times. Most of his life, his parents had ordered pizza at least once every week because they knew how much he liked it. They also did it because Curtina loved it as well. He was sure they’d love to have something different, but they never complained. They did what they thought would make their children happy. This was the kind of parent Matthew wanted to be to MJ. His parents had made a lot of mistakes and caused him a lot of pain, but they’d also made Matthew a priority on many occasions. They’d made sacrifices pretty regularly, and he was thankful.

Matthew’s phone rang, and although he didn’t answer it, he stood up. “Mom, can you take MJ?”

“Of course. You bring my little sweetheart right on over here.”

Matthew passed him to her and went upstairs to his bedroom. He dialed Stacey back as fast as he could.

“Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t answer.”

“No problem. Whatchu doin’?”

“Watchin’ the game with my parents. My boys are comin’ by, too.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“What about you?”

“Just sitting here, doin’ nothin’,” she said.

“I wish you could come over here, but…”

“I know. So have you heard from Racquel again?”

“Yeah, but I never answer. Hopefully, she’ll just give up.”

“But what if she doesn’t? Because it sounds to me like she really wants to get back together.”

“Maybe, but only because she wants me to help make her case go away. Nobody changes overnight the way she has. Last week she hated me, and now this week she loves me and wants us to stay married? I don’t think so.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m really getting a divorce.”

“Are you doing it soon?”

“That’s the plan. I have a doctor’s appointment early next week to get my stitches out, so once I go back to work, I’ll get it taken care of.”

“How do your parents feel about it?”

“They support me a hundred percent.”

“Well that’s good at least.”

“My mom never liked Racquel, anyway. She never wanted me to marry her.”

“Well, if you and I end up together, I hope she likes me!”

Matthew laughed. “Do you mean that?”

“What?”

“That you wanna be together.”

“Is that what
you
want?”

“I do, but it’s like I told you before. You’re still in college, and I have a son.”

“And it’s like I told you, I know all that.”

“Yeah, but how will your mom and dad feel about it?”

“They’ll be fine.”

“Somehow I don’t think so. Dating someone who’s divorced is one thing, but a teenage father?”

“Well it’s not like you’re a teenager anymore. And anyway, you let me worry about them.”

“Whatever you say.”

“So when can I see you?” she asked.

“Maybe this weekend.”

“Okay.”

“Well, hey,” he said, “that’s the doorbell, so I’d better get going.”

“Call me before you go to bed?”

“I will. Later.”

Matthew headed back downstairs, but the faster he walked the more nervous he got. Was that Racquel he heard?

When he landed at the bottom of the stairs, he rushed toward the front door. He saw his dad barricading it with his arms.

Matthew frowned. “Girl, what are you doin’ here?”

“I came to get my son, and I’m not leaving here without him,” she said, barely able to stand up.

“You’re drunk, Racquel,” Matthew said.

“Mom, take MJ upstairs.”

Racquel pushed against Curtis’s chest with both hands, screaming, “Don’t you take my son anywhere, you crazy lunatic! Please move, Pastor Black. I’m not leaving here until I get my son.”

Matthew dialed his father-in-law, hoping he didn’t have a late surgery.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Dr. Anderson, can you please come and get Racquel? She’s over here trying to force her way in. And she’s drunk.”

“What? Oh my God. I’m only a few miles away. I’ll be right there.”

Matt set his phone on the table.

“I hate you, Matt!” she spat, still trying to push Curtis out of the way. “I hate you, and I should have stabbed you until I got tired.”

Curtis grabbed both her arms. “Look, that’s enough, Racquel. Either you settle down, or we’re calling the police. This is ridiculous.”

“No, your wife is the one who’s ridiculous. She’s the one who messed up everything. She ruined all of us, and now I’m the one who has to stand trial. I’m the one who might go to jail.”

Matthew stared at her and shook his head.

“Why are you doing this, Matt?” she said, now crying. “Why won’t you let me see my son? Why won’t you give me another chance?”

Matthew still didn’t say anything. He just stood there trying to figure out what was wrong with her. He was angry with her for drinking the way she was and causing all this trouble, but he also felt sorry for her. She was truly messed up emotionally, and if she didn’t get help soon, he wasn’t sure what would happen to her. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why his in-laws hadn’t told the judge about her history so he could order that she be admitted to a treatment facility. Why wouldn’t they want their own daughter to get help? It didn’t make any sense, especially since Dr. Anderson was a physician.

Finally, Racquel dropped down on the front step, weeping loudly. But then Matthew’s phone rang. It was his mother-in-law.

“Hello?”

“Matt, I am so sorry,” Vanessa said. “Neil just called me, and I’m on my way, too. I thought she was still upstairs. I laid down to take a nap, and I guess she snuck out. And Neil said she was drunk?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know what to say, but I promise you this won’t happen again.”

Matthew would believe that when he saw it. Racquel was a loose cannon, and if her parents didn’t do something soon, either she or someone else would end up dead. He also had to rethink his decision about waiting to divorce her, because now she was demanding to see MJ—and she was doing it while she was drunk. He didn’t want to take MJ away from Racquel, at least not legally, anyway, but he would do it if he had to. If she forced him, he would file for full custody and she would never see MJ again. He would do everything he could to make sure of it.