The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel)

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The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel) Page 4

by Kimberla Lawson Roby


  “Have you tried to get her some help? At the very least, the two of you should see a marriage counselor.”

  “I agree, but I’ve already suggested that to her, and she’s totally against it. Says she’s fine and nothing’s wrong with her.”

  “Being married and unhappy is tough. I was married once, so I know how it feels.”

  “Really? How long were you together?”

  “Hmmph. The quick answer is: too long. But we were actually married for five years. Our situation was a lot different from yours, though. I married a man who thought beating me and my son was some kinda sport.”

  “Wow,” Matthew said. He couldn’t imagine ever laying a hand on Racquel, and he had absolutely no respect for any man who did that kind of thing. And to beat a child? Matthew was mortified. “I’m really sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry for you and your son.”

  “Don’t be,” she said, stroking her long, coarse black hair to the side. “The important thing is that I finally took care of things. I found the courage to leave, and I haven’t looked back.”

  “Does he ever try to contact you? Does he help take care of your son?”

  “No, but I prefer it that way. I’m glad I don’t have to see him or talk to him.”

  “How old is your son?”

  “Six.”

  “When did you leave your husband?”

  “Two years ago, but enough about me. That train is long gone, and I’m over it.”

  “I guess.”

  “So tell me about you. Of course, you can’t work here and not know that Pastor Black is your father. Even though you’ve never volunteered that information.”

  “That’s because it’s complicated.”

  “You don’t have a relationship with him?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. I just don’t wanna talk about my family is all.”

  “Well, what about work? Is that off limits, too?” she asked, laughing.

  Matthew couldn’t help chuckling himself. “No, but what is there to talk about?”

  “I don’t know. Do you like it? Do you plan to stay here for a while?”

  “I’d definitely rather be doing something else,” he said. “And to be honest, I’d like to go back to school.”

  “Why didn’t you go when you graduated?”

  “I did, but then Racquel had the baby, things happened, and I dropped out so we could get married.”

  “Oh really? Where did you go?”

  “Harvard.”

  “University?” she said, sounding shocked.

  “Yep.”

  “And you left there?”

  “Yep. Four-year scholarship and all, and now this is the result.”

  “You must really love your wife. Have to if you gave up four years at one of the most prestigious schools in the country.”

  “I did love her, and I thought she loved me, too. I also couldn’t stand being away from my son for so many weeks at a time. Boston is a long way from here.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “My life is crazy. It’s all messed up, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Nicole placed her hand on his leg, and the flirtatious look in her eye made Matthew nervous. “Things’ll work out,” she said. “I know it may not seem like it now, but they will.”

  Matthew pretended her hand wasn’t touching him and said, “It’s almost eight, so we’d better get inside.”

  Nicole opened the passenger door but then looked back at him. “Just know that I’m here for you if you need me.”

  “Thanks” was all Matthew said. Not because he wasn’t grateful, but because he wasn’t sure how to take Nicole’s generosity. He pushed the whole thing out of his mind, though, got out of his car, and locked it. They walked through the parking lot and over toward the building. As they headed closer to the entrance, however, his phone rang. He pulled it from the inside of his blazer and saw that it was Racquel. She rarely called him, so maybe she’d thought about things and had finally decided to call a truce. Maybe she was just as tired of all the bickering and drama as he was.

  “Hey,” he said, watching Nicole walk inside the bank.

  “MJ is out of everything,” Racquel said matter-of-factly, “so you need to stop at the store on your way home.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he said, trying to be as nice as possible. “Can I call you back later so I can make a list?”

  “I already sent you an e-mail. See ya later,” she said and hung up.

  Matthew pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the blank screen. He wasn’t sure whether to curse or crack up laughing. The thing was, though, he never cursed and laughing just didn’t seem appropriate. So he did or said nothing. He just stood there, looking like a fool, until he finally found the energy to walk inside the building.

  He strolled through the lobby, over to his office, and sat at his desk. He immediately prepared for whoever his first customer of the day would be. Whether they’d be opening a new checking account, applying for a car loan, or purchasing a certificate of deposit, he would be ready. He would pretend he loved being a customer service representative, and that he simply couldn’t be happier with his home life. He would display a huge smile and would go on with business as usual. He would do this because there was no way out. He was trapped, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  Chapter 6

  Dillon was still furious. A whole day had passed, it was Monday morning, yet he still couldn’t understand why his father hadn’t told him about his decision to return to the pulpit. It just didn’t make sense, a father not sharing such an important matter with his son, his oldest child. It wasn’t fair, and ever since yesterday, Dillon hadn’t been able to think about much else. He’d barely gotten two hours of sleep last night, a result of his tossing and turning and trying to rid himself of the pain and anger he’d felt. He just didn’t know what it was going to take for his father to treat him with love unconditionally. It was bad enough that he’d gone fishing with a man who was no longer his son-in-law and hadn’t as much as invited Dillon to come along, but now this thing yesterday was much worse. It was as if Dillon wasn’t even a part of the Black family. A year ago, his father had seemed to go out of his way trying to make things right with Dillon, but now his father treated him like he was no big deal. He was just another person and nothing special at all.

  Dillon leaned back in the chair in the kitchen, waiting for Melissa to finish preparing breakfast. Before moving to Mitchell, he’d had to work at a job he didn’t love and report to some unappreciative supervisor, but thanks to his father’s generosity he no longer had to answer to anyone. Although it was true that whenever the subject of coming to work for the church or going back to school came up, Dillon talked his dad in a different direction. He just couldn’t see himself taking any old job, not when he was a son of the Reverend Curtis Black, and he wouldn’t. His dad had gone on and on about having a plan and preparing for one’s future, and while at first he’d been open to getting a job or even going back to earn his degree, once he’d realized Alicia didn’t have a full-time job, he’d changed his mind. Alicia was an author of two or three novels and likely earned an income from those he was sure, but why should he have to work some thankless nine-to-five if his sister didn’t? When the right position came along, he would take it, but until then, he would focus on bigger and better things, such as some of his entrepreneurial ideas. He had goals and dreams just like the next person, and he wouldn’t ruin his chances of seeing those goals and dreams come to pass because of some petty level of employment.

  Dillon watched Melissa place a veggie and cheese omelet on each of their plates, then add a couple of slices of whole wheat toast next to them and also a couple of patties of turkey sausage. He stared at her but the more he did, he became irritated. Sometimes he didn’t mind being in her company, but there were other times like now when all he saw was a wea
k, pathetic female. Not to mention, as he looked back at things, he was surprised she’d been able to portray such a strong, independent woman last year when they’d pretended to be a happy couple who were about to be married. During each of the counseling sessions they’d had with his father, she’d been as vocal and as opinionated as Dillon had told her to be and she’d been so believable, his father hadn’t realized they were running a scheme on him. Apparently, she was a great actor because she was nothing like that. She was spineless and naïve, and Dillon had very little respect for her.

  Melissa set his plate in front of him, along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, but Dillon looked at it and pushed it toward the middle of the table.

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “What do you think is wrong?” he yelled.

  “I’m really sorry about yesterday,” she said. “I’m sorry about what happened with your dad.”

  “The whole thing is a big joke.”

  “Honey, maybe your dad wanted his news to be a surprise. Not just for the congregation but for you and the rest of his family.”

  “Please! You can bet Alicia knew days ahead of time and so did Charlotte’s parents. I could tell just by looking at them.”

  “Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him how you feel, because maybe he doesn’t realize he did anything wrong.”

  “No son should have to do that. A father should include his son in everything he does. Period.”

  Melissa drank some of her juice but didn’t say anything.

  Dillon felt his heart thumping faster. “He’ll never treat me as well as he treats my two sisters. And when he spoke at church yesterday, he made it pretty clear that Matthew is still his pride and joy. He’s still hoping and praying for their reunion. It’s as if I don’t even matter. And when I told him that you and I couldn’t make it over for dinner yesterday, all he said was, ‘Okay, son. We’ll see you later then.’”

  “I don’t know,” Melissa finally said. “Maybe it’s just gonna take a little more time for the two of you to become closer.”

  “Yeah, right!” he said, frowning. “It’s already been a whole year, so how much longer do you think I need to wait? How much longer should I sit on the sidelines waiting to be accepted? Waiting to become an equal with my sisters and my brother? And anyway, why are you defending my father? How dare you!”

  Melissa got up and rushed around to where he was sitting. “Oh my God, Dillon, no baby,” she said, caressing the side of his face. “I didn’t mean it like that at all. I just hate seeing you so upset.”

  Dillon slid back from the table, got up, and slammed his chair over. “I hate this! I hate I ever came here.”

  Melissa went over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby, don’t. I know you’re angry and hurt, but try to calm yourself down,” she said, kissing him.

  At first, he resisted, turning his head away from her, but soon he gave in and kissed her back, wildly and passionately. Their connection seemed genuine…until things turned ugly.

  Dillon tore her robe open and slipped it down her arms and then ripped the neckline of her pajama top.

  Melissa slightly pulled away. “Baby, wait. Let’s go upstairs. Let’s go where we can get comfortable.”

  Dillon breathed heavily and turned angrier. “I don’t wanna go upstairs. I want it right here,” he said, leaning against the counter and opening his own terry robe. “Now, what are you waitin’ for?”

  Melissa hesitated, and he could already see tears filling her eyes. He wasn’t sure why giving him oral sex was the one thing she never wanted to do for him. She did everything else he demanded, but he always had to become forceful when it came to this.

  “Did you hear me?”

  Still, she stood solid in her tracks, acting as though she couldn’t move.

  Dillon didn’t know why she pushed him to such outrage. “Why can’t you just do what I tell you? You know what I want, now do it!”

  “Baby, no…let’s just go upstairs and make love the right way.”

  Dillon laughed at her. “First of all, we don’t make love, we have sex. And secondly,” he said, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her down to the floor on her knees, “you’ll do what I tell you or else.”

  Jumbo tears streamed down her face, but all Dillon said was, “Don’t make me tell you again, Melissa.”

  She cried more, but all Dillon cared about was that she took care of business. He’d given her many opportunities to leave Mitchell, many, many times, but she hadn’t taken them. Said she wanted to stay with him forever. So now she belonged to him. He still hadn’t changed his mind about marrying her, but until he found someone better and much more worth his while, she would do what was expected of her without question. Either that or there would be consequences.

  Chapter 7

  Matthew walked inside one of the largest superstores in the area and pulled a shopping cart away from a long row of them. He’d just gotten off work about a half hour ago and figured he’d better get this shopping business out of the way as soon as possible. He rolled the cart farther into the store and down one of the aisles. As it had turned out, the list Racquel had sent him was long and it didn’t contain items only for MJ. She wanted him to pick up food for them as well. Then she’d listed other necessities, such as toilet paper, paper towels, and, of all things, her sanitary napkins. This was a first, and he couldn’t believe she now resorted to having him purchase her feminine products. It wouldn’t have been a big deal since he had always been willing to do anything for his wife, but what bothered him was that she now expected him to do everything. She burdened him with all outside responsibilities, so she never had to the leave the apartment. He was still shocked that she’d actually kept her word about having dinner at her parents’. They hadn’t stayed very long, though—they’d returned home about an hour after they’d finished eating—and Matthew could tell her parents had been disappointed. They’d wanted to spend more time with MJ and Racquel, but she’d made up some lie about not feeling well and then announced that she wanted to go home and lie down. It was all a shame because spending time with her parents was the very least she could do, given all the help they gave her and Matthew. They faithfully paid her car note every month, and there were times when they covered her and Matthew’s rent payment without being asked. They did it from the kindness of their hearts, and they also bought most of MJ’s clothing and did whatever else they could to help out. But none of that seemed to matter to Racquel. All she thought about was getting back to her safe haven away from all the people who cared about her. It was interesting, too, how as soon as they’d arrived home yesterday afternoon, she’d quickly laid MJ in his crib and had rushed to turn on the television. One of the channels had aired back-to-back reruns of Hoarders, and she hadn’t been able to plop down on the sofa fast enough. For the life of him, though, Matthew couldn’t understand why she would want to watch this particular program for as much as two minutes. She was an awful housekeeper, and she wasn’t far from being a hoarder herself. There was a time when he would come home from work every single day, spending at least an hour cleaning and picking up in every room. But when he’d realized that the more he cleaned up the more she messed up, he’d stopped. She didn’t care one way or the other, and he’d given up on trying to keep their apartment presentable.

  Matthew pulled various items from different shelves, then went down another aisle and spotted the maxi pads Racquel needed. He knew it was childish, but he hoped no one saw him standing there trying to locate the right brand and quantity she’d asked for. But so much for trying to be discreet.

  “Hey you,” a female voice said, and he turned around.

  It was Racquel’s best friend, Jasmine Green, and he smiled. He wasn’t sure why, but just being in her presence was a breath of fresh air, and he was glad they’d run into each other. She’d been away at college for two years now, but she was still the same friendly girl she’d always been. She wa
s exceptionally smart, and not one person in the entire school had questioned why she’d been named homecoming queen. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t imagine anyone not voting for her, because Jasmine had a noticeably kind spirit and everyone liked that about her. He’d been named homecoming king that year as well, and though he could tell Racquel had been a little jealous of Jasmine for winning, Jasmine had deserved that win more than any girl who was graduating.

  “So when did you get home?” Matthew said, hugging her.

  “Friday. I left right after my last final, and I’ve been trying to call Quel ever since. I’ve left her a number of messages, but she won’t call me back. Tomorrow, I was planning to call her mom.”

  “She rarely talks to anyone, so I’m not surprised.”

  “Is everything okay? I spoke to her a few times while I was gone but not nearly like I did the first year I was away. I just figured she was busy with the baby and married life. Plus, I had a really heavy course load this semester and a part-time job.”

  “I think she’s depressed,” he admitted. “Actually, I know she is.”

  “Oh no. Why? Because of what happened with little MJ when he was born?”

  “Yeah. She’s never gotten over what my mother did. When they took our son from her, well that changed everything. She hasn’t been the same since.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Matt. Wow.”

  “Maybe you should just stop by to check on her because she really needs to talk to someone. She won’t really talk to me, and she doesn’t have much to say to her parents either.”

  “I did think about that, but I hate showing up at anyone’s house without calling. My mother always said people were being rude when they did that.”

  “You guys have been friends since what? Kindergarten? It’ll be fine,” Matthew said, but he knew in all likelihood that Racquel would be livid. Still, he was hoping that when she saw her best friend in the world that she would be happy, and that she might open up to her. There was a chance that maybe Jasmine could get her out of the house.

 

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