The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel)

by Kimberla Lawson Roby

  But then, maybe if he hadn’t gone public on television about what his father had done to his mother, his father might work a bit harder at making him a priority. Dillon hadn’t wanted to go that far, anyway, placing his father on blast on live television, but that was a whole other story, and now he had to live with his decision. Although, actually, what he’d done hadn’t seemed to bother his father so much at the time, and to prove it Curtis had apologized profusely to Dillon for disowning him for so many years and he’d given Dillon that huge windfall. So now Dillon didn’t know what to think or what he needed to do to become his father’s most beloved child—the child he cared about more than he did any of the others.

  “It’s getting real close to your bedtime, little girl,” Charlotte said to her daughter.

  Curtina was still playing with her dad but said, “Can’t I stay up just a little while longer, Mommy? I don’t even have school tomorrow.”

  “I know, but around here curfews don’t change just because it’s the weekend. Little girls need all the sleep they can get.”

  Alicia got up, walked over, and tickled her baby sister out of the blue, and Curtina squealed with laughter.

  “Stop it, Licia!”

  Alicia tickled her more, and Curtina squealed louder. Curtis, Charlotte, Phillip, and Melissa laughed out loud, but Dillon wanted to slap that little brat. Once again, Curtina had stolen the show, and Dillon just sat there like a stranger.

  Thankfully, Charlotte told Curtina again that it was time to head up to bed.

  “We’ll be up to kiss you good night,” Curtis told her, and she ran on her way.

  “Oh well,” Charlotte said, scooting to the edge of the grained-leather loveseat that she and Curtis were sitting on. “I think I’ll turn in myself. I have to be up pretty early for the women’s breakfast.”

  “Me, too,” Alicia said, “so I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I’m so glad you’re going,” Charlotte said. “It’s gonna be a great time.”

  “I’m glad you invited me.”

  Wait a minute. Was Alicia spending the night here? Dillon knew she still had her own bedroom there, but all this time he’d been sure she and Phillip were only visiting and that they would be heading back to Chicago tonight. But apparently not. Even more so, where was Phillip staying? His dad’s house was nearly a mansion, but clearly Phillip wouldn’t be shacking up in the same room with Alicia, because it wasn’t like they were still married. Dillon shacked up with Melissa every night, but he would never do something like that in his father’s house. He had better respect for him than that.

  Charlotte looked over at her former son-in-law, and it was almost as if she’d been reading Dillon’s mind. “Agnes freshened up one of the guest rooms for you, Phillip. The one toward the end of the hall and around the corner.”

  “I really appreciate that,” he said. “Especially since your husband and I will be getting up much earlier than you and Alicia.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Curtis said, laughing. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into goin’ fishin’ at the crack of dawn.”

  “Best time to go,” Phillip said, chuckling.

  Dillon looked at his father and Phillip, as they laughed together like father and son, and his heart dropped. A part of him wanted to burst into tears, but he would never give any of them the satisfaction of seeing how hurt he was. Not only were his sisters sucking up all his father’s time, but now some ex-son-in-law was going to spend an entire Saturday with him? This was dead wrong on so many levels, and Dillon could barely think straight.

  “It was good seeing you again, Melissa,” Charlotte said, hugging her and staring coldly at Dillon. Charlotte was so slick with her dirty ways, and Dillon knew no one else had seen the way she’d looked at him. She did this all the time, even at church on Sunday mornings, and she always got away with it.

  “Thanks for having us over,” Melissa said, smiling.

  Alicia hugged Melissa, too. “Maybe one day my brother will step up and make you my sister-in-law…isn’t that right, Dillon?”

  What? Alicia couldn’t have been serious? And what gave her the right to meddle in Dillon’s affairs, anyway? She had better be glad they were at their father’s because what he wanted to tell her was, “I’ll marry Melissa just as soon as Phillip makes the stupid decision to marry you again.” But Dillon kept his mouth shut. Instead, he sat for a few seconds thinking about how badly Alicia wanted to remarry Phillip, even though she’d messed around on him with a drug dealer. That was how she’d lost Phillip in the first place. The reason Dillon knew this was because she’d shared that pathetic story with Melissa, and Melissa had told him everything. For some reason, Alicia had taken a liking to Melissa, so maybe she hadn’t seen anything wrong with fessing up about her indiscretions. Alicia had talked a lot about how even though she’d messed up her marriage, the important thing now was that she’d learned her lesson and that she was a changed woman. She’d claimed she would never hurt Phillip again, no matter what. That sort of sentiment was all fine and well, but from where Dillon was sitting all he could think about was one thing: once a slutty whore, always one. This was especially true of ridiculously spoiled women like Alicia who’d been given the best of everything since the day they were born. It was also women like Alicia who never learned from their mistakes and who always ended up doing whatever they wanted, regardless of whom they hurt in the process. Phillip would be a fool to marry that woman again.

  But instead of airing such sinister thoughts verbally, Dillon finally said, “I don’t know. Maybe sometime soon.”

  “I hope that’s true,” Alicia said. “She’s a really good woman, Dillon.”

  Melissa smiled but didn’t say anything.

  Of course, Charlotte just couldn’t help dipping in her two cents either. “She really is a wonderful person, and any man would be lucky to have her. Any man at all.”

  It was at moments like these when Dillon wished his father would divorce this tramp. Charlotte had made it known very early on that she didn’t care for Dillon and that she would never accept him, so Dillon knew she’d only made that comment as a way to annoy him. She was indirectly taunting at him, making it known that Melissa would be much better off with someone else, and it took everything in Dillon not to physically hurt her. Sometimes he even dreamed about hurting her, and he’d be lying if he’d said those dreams didn’t give him great satisfaction. Charlotte was such a hypocrite and from what Dillon had heard, she’d done a lot of whoring around herself, the same as Alicia. So, no matter how much his father loved his wife and had forgiven her, Dillon knew who Charlotte was. He knew how deceptive she could be and that he had to watch out for her. He needed to be ready for any tricks she might toss his way, and he would be. That was a guarantee.

  Chapter 3

  It was Mother’s Day, and surprisingly, Matthew’s eyes welled up with tears. He’d just awakened only a few seconds ago, but for some reason, his mom rested heavily on his mind. These very sad feelings of his had caught him off guard because, although this was the second Mother’s Day he’d spent without her, he hadn’t felt this way a year ago. He hadn’t shed even one tear or thought much about her, but now he knew that maybe it was because he’d still been too angry with her. Actually, he still was pretty upset and disappointed, but for some reason, today, he couldn’t deny how much he missed both of his parents. He hadn’t seen them in fourteen months, but it was starting to feel like more than a decade. If only his parents hadn’t caused so many problems for him and had tried to be better people. Matthew knew all too well that everyone fell short at some point in their lives and that no one was perfect, but these last two scandals had been too much. First, his mom had paid two strangers to lie about Racquel and her mom, claiming they were child abusers, and then there was this whole Dillon Whitfield saga. Dillon, his new half brother. Dillon, who was now the oldest of their father’s children and who clearly seemed to be his father’s priority. Matthew had never met Dillon in p
erson, but Alicia kept Matthew up to date on what was happening. Alicia had admitted that she didn’t care for Dillon all that much and that she definitely didn’t trust him, but for now, she tolerated him because she knew their dad wanted her to get along with him and make him feel welcome as her new brother. Matthew didn’t have anything against Dillon, especially since it hadn’t been his fault that their dad had disowned him, but Matthew still kept his distance. Dillon hadn’t tried to contact him either, though, so Matthew knew the feeling was mutual. As a matter of fact, a couple of months ago, Alicia had tried to get the three of them together for dinner, but at the last minute, Dillon had offered some excuse as to why he couldn’t make it. To be honest, Matthew had been relieved and so had Alicia.

  Matthew wiped tears from both his eyes and looked over to the other side of the bed. Racquel was already up. They’d gotten into yet another argument last night, and they had soon turned their backs to each other in silence. Matthew had lain awake for hours, wondering, worrying, and thinking, but interestingly enough, he could tell Racquel had gone to sleep with ease. It was almost as if she didn’t care what happened to their marriage, one way or the other.

  Matthew swung his legs over the side of the bed, got to his feet, and stretched his body. He slipped on his terry robe and then his slippers and went into the bathroom. After washing his face, he strolled into the kitchen. Racquel sat at the table, feeding little MJ a jar of baby food, but she never looked up. Apparently, she was still as angry as ever and was planning to keep this silent drill of hers going. But Matthew decided he would be a bigger person than that. He couldn’t stand all this tension, so after pulling a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, he poured himself a full glass and walked toward her and the baby. “Hey little man,” he said, smiling. “So how’s Daddy’s favorite person in the whole wide world?”

  Little MJ giggled and kicked his feet with much delight. But then Matthew looked at Racquel.

  “Happy Mother’s Day, baby.”

  “Thanks,” she said, but never as much as glanced up at him.

  Matthew played with MJ for a bit longer but since he didn’t know what else to say to Racquel without setting her off, he walked into the living room. The TV was already on, so he scanned through the onscreen guide to see what looked interesting. Still, he couldn’t help looking over at Racquel again. He was sorry that things had turned out so badly for them. Just last year, before little MJ had been born, they’d been hopelessly in love, yet now they could barely look at each other. There were even times when Matthew wanted to pack his bags, leave, and never come back there. It was his son that stopped him, though. Little MJ hadn’t asked to be born into this world, and none of what was happening between Matthew and Racquel was his fault. Matthew also didn’t want him and his son to live in separate households. He wanted to be a full-time father. He wanted to spend every moment he could with him. He didn’t want to be like his own father, because for years his dad had spent many days on the road, traveling to one speaking engagement or book signing event after another. Matthew wanted to be there for his son, now and in the future. So his hands were tied so to speak. If he left Racquel, he’d be leaving his son, and if he stayed he feared he’d be stuck in misery for all eternity.

  Matthew turned the channel to CNN, something he’d become accustomed to very early on in life because his dad had watched news shows daily. Seconds later, though, Racquel’s cell phone rang.

  She looked over at it, slightly frowning, but this wasn’t unusual since she rarely wanted to talk to anyone. Still, she pressed the Send button and then placed the call on speaker so she could continue feeding MJ.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hi, sweetie,” her mother said. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

  “Thanks. Same to you.”

  “So how’s my little grandson doing on this beautiful morning?”

  “He’s fine. Almost finished eating his breakfast.”

  “And Matt?”

  “Fine,” she said dryly.

  “Is everything okay, honey?”

  “I’m good, Mom. How’s Daddy?”

  “He’s doing well.”

  Matthew was a little shocked that Racquel had even bothered to ask about her father, because he’d sort of played at least some part in that whole DCFS fiasco. She did speak to him, but she wasn’t nearly as close to him as she’d been before the incident.

  “The other reason I was calling,” her mother said, “is because I wanted to invite you guys over for dinner.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t cooking this year and that Daddy was taking you out.”

  “I know, but this morning I decided it would be much nicer if we could spend some time at home. You know, with just the five of us.”

  “I really don’t feel like doing anything, Mom.”

  “Honey, when was the last time you even went out somewhere?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, we’d really like you guys to spend the day with us. We haven’t seen you in over two weeks.”

  “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Look, young lady. I’m not taking no for an answer. You need to get out, and that’s that. We’ll see you at one, okay?”

  Racquel sighed so loudly that even MJ looked at her strangely.

  “Honey, did you hear me?” her mother asked.

  “Fine, Mom. We’ll be there.”

  “See you then.”

  Racquel pressed the End button on her phone and looked over at Matthew. “I’m sure you heard, so if you wanna go you can. If not, you don’t have to.”

  Matthew wanted to ask her why she was speaking to him that way, but all he said was, “What time do you wanna head over there?”

  Racquel frowned and cast her eye at him like he was crazy. “Didn’t you hear her say she wanted us there by one o’clock? I know you did because my phone was on speaker.”

  “Baby, please. All I meant was what time you wanted to leave. I thought you might wanna go early or somethin’.”

  “Twelve-thirty should give us plenty of time.”

  Matthew shook his head and flipped through the channels again. This time he turned the television to ESPN. It was NBA playoff time, but as he watched some of the highlights from the evening before, he was saddened all over again. For years, ever since he’d been a small boy, he and his dad had always watched regular-season football and basketball games together. They’d also watched playoff games for both sports, along with the Super Bowl and basketball championship finals. All of these memories were starting to be too much for him, and then if watching ESPN hadn’t been enough, now he thought about his dad’s church, Deliverance Outreach. He hadn’t been to any church in months, and that bothered him. He hadn’t been raised that way, and he missed Sunday morning worship. When he’d first moved in with his in-laws, he, Racquel, the baby, and her parents had gone weekly to the church her parents had attended for years, but once he and Racquel had settled into their own place and Racquel had basically turned against him, they’d stopped going altogether. Maybe he was thinking about his dad’s church because Mother’s Day was so hugely recognized at Deliverance Outreach, and his mom always looked forward to it. It was also tradition for his maternal grandparents to drive over from Chicago on Saturday for Mother’s Day weekend and then attend service and have dinner with them on Sunday.

  Now, as Matthew sat thinking and reminiscing, he thought about something else: he wondered if his mom missed him as much as he was starting to miss her. He was still having a very hard time trying to forgive her for all the problems she’d caused him, but he couldn’t help thinking about some of the happy times they’d shared. She’d created enough drama and trouble to last a lifetime, but one fact remained: she was still his mother. She always would be, and nothing would ever change that. It was the reason tears streamed down his face, and he couldn’t stop them.

  Chapter 4

  Dillon and Melissa sat listening as the choir neared the end of their second
song of the morning. Dillon wasn’t the most spiritual person you ever wanted to meet, but now that he went to church weekly without fail, it was starting to grow on him…well, at least it no longer bothered him to be there, anyway. He could think of lots of other things he’d rather be doing on such a glorious Sunday morning, such as watching NBA pregame highlight shows or one of his favorite old-time Westerns. But he came to church faithfully because this was yet another thing he knew his father wanted him to do, and he could tell his father respected him for it.

  Sometimes it felt strange, though, because Dillon certainly hadn’t come from a religious household. His mother had been a well-known stripper in the Atlanta, Georgia, area for years. Dillon hadn’t learned this news firsthand, what with his mother dying in a car accident when he was just a tiny baby, but his aunt had told him as much as she could about her. His aunt had also insisted that although his mother hadn’t lived the most honorable lifestyle, she had definitely believed in God. For some reason, this gave Dillon peace—maybe because a part of him couldn’t help hoping that his mom had believed in God enough to make it into heaven. If she had, then Dillon hoped his father had been right when he’d told him he had a chance of seeing her again one day—that is, if he believed in God, too, and he accepted Jesus Christ into his heart as his personal Savior. Dillon was still pretty shaky in his faith, but again, he was willing to do anything if it meant seeing his mother again, so he was trying his best to do what his father had suggested.