BROKEN
The sequel to The Preacher’s Son
B.D. Anderson
Copyright © 2015 B.D. Anderson.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.
ISBN: 978-1-4834-2769-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4834-2768-3 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015904259
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 04/23/2015
Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by Permission. All rights reserved.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
This book is dedicated to two people: my mother, Joyce Penn whose strength of character I admire and whose love and generosity towards others knows no bounds.
To Faye Brown, my children’s Godmother whose positive calm in the midst of storms truly amazes me; whose biting wit grounds me, and whose ability to appear unruffled and stoic during adversity humbles me.
I would like to take the time to thank Karen Saunders who is my real life Dr. Nelson in this book. With her help I was able to make this story more realistic and I appreciate all the time she gave me more than I can adequately express.
I’d also like to thank Dr. Julia of Edit 911 whose grasp of the written word, her teaching abilities and warm demeanor made the journey to complete this project bearable. Her help was more than I could have ever hoped for in an editor and I am eternally grateful.
Finally, I’d like to say that with God all things are possible. He continues to prove it to me over and over again.
PROLOGUE
…He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and to set at liberty those who are oppressed. – Luke 4:18
September 2008
Matthew walked into the side door of the church and looked out into the congregation waiting for the wedding to begin. He glanced around at the full church that was surely at capacity. He certainly didn’t see any empty seats. He smirked to himself as he observed that most of the groom’s side of the church was white, while the bride’s side was mostly black. The church was cool and he could hear the air conditioning humming. Purple flowers were attached to the end of each pew matching the bride maids’ dresses. Matthew was surprised at the number of Ferguson family members who were there. Even the press was in attendance to witness his cousin Jeremy and Aura Vanderleigh as they were joined in holy matrimony. His eyes roamed over the bride, who was standing at the back of the church with her father, ready to walk down the aisle. He resisted shaking his head and hoped that Jeremy knew what he was doing.
His wandering eyes fell on his mother, who was sitting close to the front with her hands in her lap. She was the reason he was here after convincing him that, if he didn’t support his cousin’s decision and agree to be a groomsman, she’d never forgive him. He had relented just to satisfy her, but he didn’t like it. Truth be told, Matthew knew that a small part of him was angry and jealous even though he’d never admit such a thing out loud, especially when he didn’t understand his own feelings about the marriage.
First his brother and now his cousin had married black women. It surprised him that his brother Eric hadn’t cared about the ruckus he’d caused in their family with his decision to marry Nadine James, his high school sweetheart. Now his brother and wife had a set of twins to take care of! The fact that Eric seemed so happy in the midst of all the stress and tension his marriage had caused the family didn’t seem to bother him in the least, and Matthew couldn’t understand it.
He glanced at his father, who was sitting next to his mother with a frown on his face. Matthew knew that his father still hadn’t accepted the union of his youngest son. There was no doubt in his mind that his father was there under duress. Matthew watched as Aura walked slowly toward the altar. His brother Eric stood beside Jeremy as the two exchanged a few words while their eyes were fixed on Aura. Matthew couldn’t help but feel that Eric was much too young to be married and a father with twins. Yet his brother seemed to be happier than he’d ever remembered.
His father had stressed to him years ago that interracial relationships weren’t acceptable and that they would cause a major upheaval in the family. Matthew knew back then that he had to push aside the attraction he felt for the black girls he interacted with in school and give his total attention to more acceptable girls, namely, white girls. Now a part of him felt cheated. While he had conformed to his father’s demands, Eric, the youngest of the brothers, had followed his heart, and it bothered Matthew more than he cared to admit.
He remembered what his grandmother had said about how Ferguson men were attracted to black women. Why had his father forbidden him for getting involved with a black girl if he knew the family history? He could easily see that his father was upset by Eric’s decision. He wasn’t about to bring the subject up to his father now and add fuel to the fire.
Matthew’s good looks attracted a lot of women. He was over six feet tall, though not as tall as his baby brother nor as slim as Eric. However, he worked out at the gym a lot and was proud of his body. His blond hair was now combed back, and his large brown eyes always caused women to pause and take a second look. It seemed that none of the many women he’d dated affected him in such a way that he’d want to be in a serious relationship with them.
He’d lost count of his one-night stands. He’d slowed down some, but he still dated a variety of women, and most of his so-called dates were just booty calls. He still looked at black girls with longing on the sly, but he felt that getting involved with one would be social suicide. His mind wandered to Max before he pushed the thought away. Why was he thinking about her? Max had too many issues and had too much mouth. He conceded she was pretty.
There was no denying the electricity that had passed between them, and she had every attribute he liked in a woman. He thought about her full lips, something that had always attracted him to black women. Plus, she was tall and slim with curves just the way he liked. Matthew felt that her best feature a full, round set of hips that jiggled when she walked. He’d always loved a big round behind
on a woman. However, there was no way he was going down that road. Besides, it was no secret that Max despised him. He pushed the thought from his mind again and turned his attention back to the service.
Max sat in the waiting room of Dr. Nelson’s office wondering how many more sessions she was expected to attend. She had been visiting Dr. Nelson weekly now for two months. She’d stopped coming to sessions with Dr. Nelson once she turned eighteen and no longer needed her parents’ permission. They hadn’t liked her decision, but Max felt that she just wanted to put the past behind her and move on.
Now she was back seeing the doctor again because she’d promised Nadine and she was determined to keep that promise even though she didn’t feel that psychotherapy was going to be her cure-all.
She now realized that talking to the doctor over the last few weeks had helped her to some degree. After all, she had made progress by talking with her father while she’d practiced the techniques Dr. Nelson had suggested and she had gotten through that better than she’d expected. She had even hugged Eric when he was leaving for New York to attend his cousin’s wedding and when he’d left town recently, which had been a big step for her. She felt that having Eric and Nadine living with her had helped tremendously.
Dr. Nelson now stood in the doorway of her office and motioned for her to come inside. Max got up and followed her into the familiar setting. Pillows were all around to decorate the sofa and two oversized chairs. It seemed Dr. Nelson loved fall colors as the chairs were burnt orange, while the sofa was chocolate brown. Large pillows of red and gold adorned the sofa. The smell of apple pie filled the office from the burning candles. The smell relaxed her, which she realized was the whole idea. It was her choice where she’d sit, and the doctor would follow her lead. Today she chose the sofa, and Dr. Nelson pulled up a chair and sat in front of her.
The therapist hadn’t changed much over the years. Her red hair was as bright as Max remembered, and her bright red lipstick was still distracting. Dr. Nelson had to be at least fifty, yet she dressed like a hippy with her long broom skirt and peasant blouse.
“Maxine, I am happy that you are doing so well,” Dr. Nelson said, smiling. “I understand that you spent some time with your father.”
“Yes, I did,” Max said, looking around the office.
“How is that relationship coming along?”
“Fine. We talked. He told me that he missed me. We went out to lunch together one day.” She looked at her hands. “I know I’m getting better.”
Even as she said the words, Max didn’t kid herself. She still had a long way to go and stared down at her hands in her lap as they shook a little. “That’s great. Do you still feel as nervous being around men, or has that improved?” Dr. Nelson asked.
“It’s improved somewhat. That’s why I’m wondering why you called me in here before our next appointment. Things are moving in the right direction, don’t you think?”
She tried to keep her face stoic even though her hands trembled in her lap. Max couldn’t meet Dr. Nelson’s intense stare knowing that she could see right through her lie. She stared at the wall of degrees situated behind the doctor instead. Dr. Nelson leaned forward. “Maxine, I think you are ready for the next step. We’ve been talking, and while you have been resistant to my diagnosis and treatment of PTSD, I feel that we are making headway. I want you to step out of your comfort zone and accept the fact that, while you are a strong woman, you have been through a trauma and that trauma needs to be dealt with. I want you to work toward dealing with men on a social level and to even consider dating, even if it’s with another couple. Exposure therapy is the next logical step. When we discussed this years ago, you quit coming to see me. I don’t want you to do that again. Just be honest with me and please tell me what you’re afraid of.”
Max straightened up in her chair. “I’m not ready to date, Dr. Nelson. I stopped coming to you after I turned eighteen because I was going away to college.”
“Yes, but I offered you information on a counselor in Virginia, yet you refused.”
“That’s because I didn’t need to continue seeing anyone!” Honestly, she didn’t want to be here, and she didn’t want to date! She realized after the words left her mouth that she had raised her voice. She looked away from Dr. Nelson’s startled expression.
After a moment, she looked back at Dr. Nelson. She raised an eyebrow and responded in a calm voice, “You may have felt that way back then, but you still haven’t dated, Max. You’re still where you were seven years ago when you stopped coming to your sessions with me. That’s not progress. I can see that you’re upset even at the mention of dating.”
“I know,” Max admitted, not meeting her eyes. She took a deep breath and held it. She looked down at her hands shaking in her lap and slowly exhaled.
“We could start by talking about dating. At least, exploring the idea,” Dr. Nelson ventured quietly.
“I don’t want to date—”
“Now, Maxine,” Dr. Nelson interrupted, her voice calm but firm. “Let me finish.”
Max sat back in the chair uncertainly. The thought of dating filled her with dread. She didn’t want to date. Dating led to kissing, and kissing led to sex, and there was no way in hell she was going to let a man do that to her, ever.
“Maxine, you are a grown, twenty-six-year-old woman, but sexually you are stuck at the trauma that happened to you at thirteen. I understand that you are afraid to interact with men on that level. We are not rushing into anything. We’re going to take it slow. Dr. Nelson took her hand, and Max looked up from her lap. “Right now, I just want you to consider the possibility. I want you to stop putting on earphones in restaurants and pretending that you’re deaf in order to keep men from approaching you.”
“How do you expect me to interact with men?” Max asked. “I can’t see myself approaching men, Dr. Nelson.”
“Just open yourself up to the idea, Maxine. Things will naturally progress in time.”
“I don’t understand why I have to do this! I don’t like being bothered during my meals. I don’t want to hear men’s lame lines when all they want is sex.” Max pulled her hand from the doctor’s.
“Don’t think so negatively, and try not to be judgmental of men. All men do not immediately want to have sex with a woman just because they initiate a conversation. At least open yourself up to the possibility of meeting someone you’re attracted to.” Dr. Nelson stood up. “I have some material I want you to read over. Perhaps after reading it you can bring me your questions, and I can help ease some of your fears. We need to move forward. I’m sure you’re aware of that. Read this, and it will help you prepare for the next step.”
Max didn’t say anything but took the package that the doctor was handing her. She saw that her hand was still shaking a little and held the packet close to her chest as she walked quickly toward the door.
“I’ll see you next week, Maxine,” Dr. Nelson said.
Max left the office with a sigh of relief when she reached her car. She couldn’t wait to get home to talk to her sister. Talking to Nadine always grounded her. After twenty minutes, she quickly pulled into the parking lot hoping that she would find the twins napping and her sister free for conversation.
Walking in the door, she was relieved to see Nadine sitting on the sofa watching TV.
“So, how did it go?” Nadine asked, looking up at her.
Max waved the packet at her sister and let out a loud sigh. “Dr. Nelson keeps insisting that I have PTSD. I don’t think I have that at all. Plus, she’s given me this information to read over. I want you to look it over for me first.”
“Why not read over the material Dr. Nelson gave you before you decide?”
Max lowered her head. “I’m afraid, and I don’t like her labeling my personal feelings as PTSD. I refuse to be put in a box like that. I mean, I feel that it was perfectly logical for me to respond the way that I did. Just the thought of going out with a man makes me nervous. After being raped, who would w
ant to be touched by a man? I’m not crazy!”
“Of course you’re not crazy,” Nadine agreed. “Dr. Nelson is just trying to help you. I’m sure that she’s trying to find the treatment that will work for you. Every person is different, you know.”
“You read it first,” she told Nadine, shoving the package of information at her. “Help me out here.”
Nadine took the packet from her and glanced over at her daughters who were napping.
“All right.”
She scanned the material as Max watched, trying to be patient as Nadine read through some of the pamphlet and skipped others.
“Well?” she asked.
Nadine exhaled. “Basically, there are pamphlets here that talk about learning about your own body and discovering what pleasures you. It talks about your exploring that option and that you have to be comfortable in your own sexuality and know what pleases you before you can let your partner know what pleases you. There’s also information on PTSD and the treatments for the condition.”
Max eyes grew big. “I don’t know. I’m going to the doctor. We talk! Why isn’t that enough? I mean, I don’t think I need treatments for a condition I’m not convinced that I have. I’m not a war veteran!”
Nadine held up one of the pamphlets that she’d scanned. “Well, try to keep an open mind. You said that you wanted to move forward. This is a big step. How long do you expect the doctor to just talk? You have to let her guide you through this.”
Nadine opened one of the pamphlets. “Dr. Nelson has a sticky note on this one saying that this is the next step she plans for you: prolonged exposure therapy.”
“I know.” Max nodded. “We talked about it a little.”
“It says here that repeated exposure to thoughts, feelings, and situations that you have been avoiding helps you to learn that reminders of the trauma do not have to be avoided. With this therapy you and your therapist will identify the situations you have been avoiding. You will repeatedly confront those situations until your distress decreases.” She looked up at her sister.
Broken: The sequel to THE PREACHER'S SON Page 1