The Best-Kept Secret

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The Best-Kept Secret Page 17

by Kimberla Lawson Roby


  “Lord, Lord, Lord,” Emma said. “Lord knows I hate seeing you and Charlotte into it like this.”

  “Well, Mom, Charlotte should have thought about that before she slept with David. But like with everything else she’s done, she thought she was slick enough to get away with it. She thought she could do whatever she wanted with no regard for anyone else. But now she’s the one who is going to be left out in the cold.”

  “Anise, why won’t you just talk to me directly?” Charlotte asked softly.

  “Girl, you’ve got a lot of nerve, saying anything to me. And if I were you, I wouldn’t say anything else. And if I were Curtis, I’d pack up Matthew, leave Mitchell, and make sure you never see him again. Because as far as I’m concerned, Matthew deserves a much better mother than you. He deserves to have a mother who is decent and one who cares about more than just herself.”

  “I love Matthew more than my own life, Anise, and you know that.”

  “Whatever, Charlotte. Whatever you say. But let me make myself clear once and for all. Don’t you ever dial my phone number again, and don’t you ever step foot near my home. If you do, I’ll be filing a harassment complaint with the police.”

  Emma shook her head in disappointment.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I know you hate seeing this, but this is what happens when people become consumed with themselves and start thinking they’re on top of the world. They start thinking they can treat people any way they want to. But I’ll call you later,” Anise said and left.

  “How am I ever going to get past this?” Charlotte said, clasping her hands together beneath her chin.

  “You’re going to have to pray your way out of it. Because if I know my daughter, prayer is the only chance you have with her.”

  “I just don’t know what I’m going to do if I end up losing Curtis and my friendship with Anise all at the same time.”

  “Well, as much as I hate saying this, baby, you were wrong. I love you with all my heart, but you were wrong for sleeping with your cousin’s husband and wrong for lying to Curtis about Matthew.”

  “But I just know that Matthew is Curtis’s son. I’m all but sure of it.”

  “I know you want it to be, but the truth is, David could actually be Matthew’s father. And just so you know, Anise called David, and he told her that you came into their bedroom and got in bed with him as soon as she left that day. Said you were always trying to flirt with him behind her back even before then.”

  Charlotte couldn’t believe David had fixed his lips to say such awful things about her, especially since he’d slept around on Anise with other women, too, and basically treated Anise like nothing when they were married. What he’d said about Charlotte was actually true, but Charlotte didn’t see a reason for him to talk about it. By doing so, he’d only made bad matters worse between her and Anise, and no matter what anyone said, she still blamed David since he, like Curtis, had been the adult when she was with him. Nonetheless, she could barely look her aunt in her face.

  “I know I was wrong, but I can’t change what I did.”

  “That’s true, but it’s up to you to try to fix these problems with Anise and Curtis.”

  “But how? Anise doesn’t want me calling or coming near her anymore, and Curtis pretty much walks around the house ignoring me. As a matter of fact, he won’t talk to me at all unless I ask him a question, and even then, he replies with short answers. He looks at me like he wants to kill me.”

  “Curtis loves Matthew, and I’m sure the thought of Matthew not being his son is destroying him emotionally.”

  “But what about me? I was only seventeen when I got pregnant.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but now you’re twenty-five, and you have to take responsibility for your actions. We all have to take responsibility for what we do whether we want to or not.”

  Charlotte thought about Matthew and how hurt he was going to be if, by some slim chance, Curtis wasn’t his father. She broke down all over again just thinking about it.

  “Baby, come on.” Emma reached out to her. “Come on, and let’s go into the den.”

  They sat on the sofa, and Charlotte laid her head in her aunt’s lap, weeping like a child. She cried until there were no more tears, and her aunt kept trying to counsel her. She tried to make Charlotte see that this, too, would pass eventually. She told her that for every wrong there were consequences and the reason we all have to try to do the right thing. Charlotte heard what she was saying and agreed with her, but it still didn’t help the way she was feeling. She was thankful that her aunt was trying to console her, but what she really needed was for Curtis to forgive her and at least stop despising her the way he did. She needed him to treat her like his wife and like the mother of his son—a son that just had to be his.

  She wanted that so desperately, and if everything worked out in that respect, she could finally focus on the child she was carrying and the date she was having an abortion. She tried hard not to think about it, but she knew it was time she scheduled the appointment. It was time she ended this pregnancy before there was more confusion to contend with. They just didn’t need that in their lives right now.

  Curtis heard Charlotte come into the house and into the family room, but he never even looked up. He and Matthew were playing one of Matthew’s video games and were deep in competition.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” she said.

  “Hi, Mom. I can’t talk right now, because Dad is right on my tail.”

  Curtis could tell she was expecting him to say something, anything, but he didn’t.

  “Curtis, have you guys had dinner?”

  “It’s after seven, so I hope so.” He still didn’t turn to look at her.

  “Sorry,” she said and then walked upstairs.

  Soon after, Matthew won the game, dropped his controller, and said, “Dad, what’s wrong with you and Mom?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, how come you don’t hardly talk to her anymore?”

  “We’ve had some disagreements, but everything is fine. Adults do that sometimes.”

  “Well, I don’t like it because Mom looks real sad. And she didn’t look sad before I went to stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “Some things are hard to understand, but there’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” Curtis tried convincing him that nothing was going on, but he could tell that Matthew was still uneasy. The child loved both of his parents, and nothing bothered him more than when they seemed upset with each other. The thought of Charlotte and her skeletons made Curtis want to do unspeakable things to her—none of which would be expected from a pastor.

  Curtis and Matthew started a new game, but the phone rang. Curtis hoped it wasn’t an emergency situation with one of the church members. Not that he didn’t want to help them, but he was enjoying his time with Matthew and didn’t want to leave him.

  “Curtis,” Charlotte said, walking down the stairway. Curtis didn’t like the look on her face.

  “Who is it?”

  Charlotte passed him the phone but didn’t respond.

  “Hello?”

  “Curtis, this is Trina.”

  Curtis could already feel the nervousness in his stomach. He couldn’t believe it, but his sister was actually calling him. He didn’t know whether to smile, jump for joy, or what.

  “How are you? It’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “The only reason I’m calling you is to let you know that my mother passed away this afternoon.”

  Curtis dropped down onto the chair. His muscles tightened one after another, and he felt paralyzed. He needed to wake up from what had to be some nightmare he was having.

  “Are you there?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be making the arrangements tomorrow and will have someone call you with the details.”

  “Was she sick?” he asked.

  “She had terminal cancer.”

  “For how long?”

  “Almost a year.”<
br />
  “And no one—”

  “And no,” she interrupted. “No one took the time to call you, because there was no reason to. You’re the one who dropped out of our lives and disowned us, remember? And the only reason I’m calling you now is because my mother made me promise to.”

  Why did she keep saying her mother? She was speaking as if her mother wasn’t also his. But what could he say? He had disowned both of them for years and treated them as strangers, just the way his sister had stated.

  “Like I said,” she continued. “I’ll have someone call you with the details.”

  “Trina, I’m really sorry. I know my apology won’t fix anything, but I am sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Curtis. I’m sorry that you and I have the same blood running through our veins and that my mother asked me to call you.”

  “Is there anything that you need?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Anything at all, Trina. Even if you want me to come over there tomorrow to help with the arrangements.”

  “I don’t. And in all honesty, I need to end this conversation, so that I can notify some of the people who actually cared about my mother.”

  “I cared about her, too, Trina.”

  “No, you didn’t. All you cared about was yourself.”

  Curtis was speechless. Unfortunately, any argument he had wasn’t going to matter. Trina hated him with a passion, and he couldn’t blame her.

  “I have to go,” she said and hung up.

  Curtis pressed the button on the phone, set it down on the table, and didn’t move.

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said.

  Curtis broke down, and Matthew went over to hug him. Curtis held his son closely and cried like a newborn. He cried harder than he ever had in his life. Even more so than when he was a small boy and there hadn’t been any food to eat. His mother’s death was taking a major toll on him, and the guilt he felt was killing him. Why hadn’t he called her or gone to see her when he’d had the chance? He’d wanted to and, then again, he hadn’t wanted to, and now it was too late. It was too late to see her alive, and he would never live down the way he’d neglected her. He’d never live down the way he’d separated himself from his mother and sister and pretended to the world that they didn’t exist. He’d done a terrible injustice and now he was paying for it.

  His heart ached, and he wished he had someone to share his pain with. He wished that anyone other than Charlotte was standing in the room with him. He wanted to go over to Anise’s for comfort but decided it was best to stay there with Matthew. Matthew had never met his paternal grandmother and didn’t know very much about her. It was time Curtis told him as much as he could. It was time he told him how wonderful his grandmother was and how she would have loved having him for a grandson.

  It was time Curtis tried to accept that he’d lost his mother for good and that he might also be losing his son in the same month. What a tragedy his life had become.

  Chapter 22

  CURTIS HAD SPENT MOST OF THE NIGHT MOURNING THE LOSS OF HIS mother, and now he was heading toward the church. He’d told Matthew that he had some church business to attend to before the start of service and that Matthew should ride with his mother. Matthew hadn’t been happy about not being able to go with him, and more than anything, he wanted to know why Curtis and Charlotte had to ride in separate cars. Curtis hadn’t been able to offer him a straight answer, but he could tell that Matthew’s questions were becoming more specific. He wanted to know what was going on with his parents, and it was clearly starting to worry the boy.

  But Curtis had needed some time alone. He was trying to deal with his mother’s passing as best as he could, but all he could picture were scenes from his childhood. Mostly, he thought about the bad times because there weren’t very many happy ones. He thought about the way his father mistreated Curtis’s mother and how he never tried to help out financially. He’d never thought twice as to whether they had clothing on their backs or if the rent was paid up. His facial expression had never even changed that day he’d walked into their apartment and realized that the electricity had been turned off. He’d simply looked around, shaken his head, and walked right back out. Curtis’s mother had begged him to help her with the bill, but his response was “Bitch, it’s your responsibility to get the lights turned back on, not mine.”

  Curtis could still remember the sad look on his mother’s face, but what Curtis never understood was why she would never leave him. Why she never took him and his sister out of such a horrible situation. Right or wrong, he’d blamed his mother just as much as he’d blamed his father, because only months after Curtis had turned thirteen, his father had started beating him for no apparent reason. He would beat Curtis when he was as drunk as could be and would even laugh about it. Interestingly enough, though, he never laid a hand on Trina or even their mother. Of course, he spoke to his wife any way he wanted to, called her names, ones that Curtis didn’t want to think about, and practically treated her like a slave. But he never touched her. Maybe it was because his wife knew what and what not to say, what and what not to do. Maybe it was because taking his frustrations out on Curtis was more than enough for him. Maybe it was all his father needed in order to feel like a man.

  It was also the reason Curtis had waited for him to arrive home late one evening, the night Curtis hit him across the head with a baseball bat. He’d struck him multiple times until blood had streamed down both sides of his face, and Curtis’s mother had pulled Curtis away. Curtis had hoped and thought for sure that his father was dead, but he wasn’t. The ambulance had come and taken him away, and after resting comfortably in the hospital for seven whole days, the hospital had sent him home. Curtis had still hated him, but from then on his father walked around his son with caution, and he never raised another hand to him. In the end, his father had remained a drunk until the day alcoholism had claimed the last of his pathetic little life. Curtis had been seventeen when his father had died, but he still hadn’t been able to forgive his mother. He’d tried to, but he’d blamed her for all that he’d gone through as a child. He blamed her because it was a mother’s responsibility to protect her child at all costs. It was her responsibility to place her children before any man, even if that man was their father.

  Curtis had tried understanding her position and how she was probably afraid to leave him, but it just wasn’t enough of an excuse. It was the reason he had ended his relationship with her and his sister as soon as he had the chance. His sister hadn’t done anything wrong, but there was no way he could truly put his past behind him unless he stopped communicating with both of them. Now, though, if he could turn back time, he would do things a lot differently. He would apologize to his mother and sister and spend as much time with them as possible. He would be the perfect son by any means necessary. He would have been there for her until she’d taken her last breath. But as he’d realized yesterday and then again this morning, it was much too late for that.

  When Curtis arrived in the church parking lot, he drove into his reserved space and left his vehicle. Sunday school wouldn’t be starting for another hour, so no one was on the premises. Curtis was glad because this way he could pray in peace. He could spend some time alone, speaking to God without any distractions. He didn’t have the sanctuary to himself very often, and now that he did, he was happy about it. After dropping off his Bible and briefcase in his study, he came back downstairs and knelt directly in front of the altar.

  “Father in heaven, I stretch my hand to Thee. I come before You with a humble heart and call on You in the name of Jesus. I ask You to forgive me for all my sins and that You would guide me during these very trying times I am experiencing. I know I haven’t always been the best that I can be and that I still have a long way to go, but I really am a changed man. Which is why today, Father, with all the faith and belief in You that I have, I find myself confused and disappointed. I find myself wondering why my life is steadily falling apart, even though
I keep trying to do what You would have me to do. I have been faithful to my wife, yet she’s been sleeping with my best friend. I became a full-time father to my son, yet there is a chance that we’re not even related. I’ve committed myself to the church, yet my mother is gone, and I never even had a chance to say good-bye to her. So, Lord, I ask You to give me understanding and meaning for all of this. You said that You would never place any more on me than I can bear, but right now, Father, it is surely starting to feel like it. Lord, I ask You to remove the lustful temptation which is building deep inside me. I ask You to remove the violent temptation I have toward hurting my wife and Aaron. Father, I ask You right now to give me the strength I need to overcome these trials. I ask that You please allow Matthew to be my son and not someone else’s. Father, please hear my prayer. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”

  Curtis stood up and sat down in the right front pew. He sighed when he realized just how heavy his heart still was. He missed his mother and he wasn’t sure how he would ever get past what he’d done to her. His entire body ached, and what he wanted most was to go back home and into his bedroom, shutting off the rest of the world. He certainly didn’t feel like delivering a sermon to his congregation this morning.

  Another half hour passed before the Sunday school attendees entered the church for their weekly lessons. An hour after that, general service began. Before the benediction, Curtis stood at the podium to address his members.

  “Some of you may have already heard, but today is a very sad day for me. My mother passed on yesterday, and while I’m ashamed to say it, I hadn’t spoken to her in over twenty years. My childhood was not what it should have been, but regardless, my mother was still my mother, and I should have respected that. The Bible says, ‘honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee,’ and I completely disobeyed that scripture. I’ve read the book of Exodus many times, but for whatever reason, I made the decision to ignore chapter twenty, verse twelve as if it were never even written. It reminds me of my hypocritical days back in Chicago and how I would fix and quote scriptures the way I wanted to hear them. I would rarely quote any scripture verbatim from the Bible. I always added in or left out appropriate words—words that allowed me to commit many, many sins without feeling bad about it.”

 

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