Charlotte stared at the minibar again but fought the urge to open it. Instead, she decided it was time she called Matthew, because there was no telling what that Racquel had told him. Vanessa had likely tossed in her two cents, too, and Charlotte could only imagine what Matthew was thinking.
She dialed his number, and he answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, son, how are you?”
“Fine.” His tone was as dry as two dead leaves, so she knew this wouldn’t go well. Still, she had to try to talk to him.
“Is this a bad time?”
“I’m studying.”
“I really need to talk to you.”
“About what? Racquel already told me what happened, so I hope you’re not calling me about that.”
“All I want is to see my grandson, Matt. You said I could see him whenever I wanted, but Racquel hardly brings him over. And I still don’t see what’s so wrong with us keeping him for the weekend. I’ve had two children, so I certainly know how to take care of a newborn—which is more than I can say for Racquel and her mother.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“That if they knew any better, they never would have brought MJ to that restaurant in the first place.”
“I’m sure MJ is just fine. But let me ask you this, Mom. Would you have turned me over to someone else for the weekend right after I was born?”
“Your grandparents kept you all the time.”
“Mom, that’s only because you lived with them. Just like Racquel lives with her parents. But it’s not like you would have dropped me off somewhere else. But regardless, I really don’t have time for this,” he said.
“Okay, just a few more minutes.”
“Now what?”
“She won’t even return my phone calls. I called her this morning, and I never heard from her.”
“Racquel told me she left you a message.”
“Matt, if she was really trying to get in touch with me, she would have called my cell.”
“Whatever, but the bottom line is this: there’s no way you should expect to see MJ every single day and then keep him an entire weekend.”
Charlotte swung her legs off of the ottoman and scooted closer to the edge of the chair. “So what are you saying?”
“That Racquel will continue to bring the baby over one time during the week and once on the weekend. She doesn’t need to bring him out seven days straight, and had you not started all that trouble with her mom, you’d be able to visit him over there.”
“I still don’t know why I can’t.”
“You know exactly why.”
“So is that how it’s gonna be, Matt? You’re gonna keep defending that witch over your own mother?”
“It’s not like that, Mom, but you’re gonna have to accept the fact that you’re not MJ’s mother.”
Charlotte eyed the minibar again. “What?”
“It’s true, Mom. You’re his grandmother, and grandmothers don’t usually get to see their grandchildren every day.”
“Well, Vanessa certainly does, now doesn’t she? That heifer gets to see and hold my grandson every waking moment.”
“Only because he and Racquel live with her. We just talked about that.”
“Why can’t MJ spend a week with them and a week with us? He’s your child, too, Matt, so we should see him just as much as his other grandparents.”
“Why are you so obsessed with him?”
There was that nasty word again—obsessed—and Charlotte was tired of hearing it. To her, it was starting to sound as though Curtis and Matthew were calling her crazy.
“Mom, I have to go,” he said.
“But, Matt, I’m begging you. Just call Racquel. Ask her to let us keep MJ this weekend. Just this one time.”
“I can’t do this with you, Mom.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything, just walked over to the minibar and opened it.
“You know what, Matt? I’ll talk to you later.”
She heard Matthew saying, “Mom, please just—,” but she pressed the button on her phone. She’d tried to reason with Racquel and even get her own husband, son, and best friend to support her right to see little MJ. But being nice and cordial wasn’t working. Actually, it rarely did when you were dealing with a ton of resistance from folks—but this tiny bottle of Jack Daniel’s would make her feel a lot better. It would give her all the love, understanding, and help she needed, and there would be no hard feelings from Jack or his close friends…Mr. Hennessy or Mr. Bacardi. She’d never drunk whiskey, cognac, and rum all in one sitting, but she would tonight. She would enjoy herself one last time before going home and gearing up for the task at hand. Just thinking about the near future gave her peace.
Chapter 22
Charlotte stretched her arms, her body twisting from side to side. Her head was killing her. She was severely hungover, but after drinking until the wee hours of the morning, what had she expected? She’d known what the outcome would be if she kept downing one libation after another, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself—hadn’t wanted to stop herself, and even though her head ached to no end, she didn’t regret it. She’d wanted to feel numb and lifeless, because it meant she didn’t have to hurt. She hadn’t wanted to shed any more tears, and she hadn’t.
She pried her eyes open and squinted at the clock. It was almost noon. She was surprised housekeeping hadn’t banged on her door and tried to open it, but as she gathered her thoughts, she sort of remembered hanging that little do-not-disturb sign out on her doorknob. She’d also turned off her phone, right after swallowing her first drink of the night, so no one would bother her. She could only imagine how many times Curtis had called and the number of messages he’d left, but she didn’t want to talk to him. All she wanted was to recover from this hangover so she could go home and prepare to be the best grandmother alive. She would show MJ that it wasn’t just Vanessa who loved him, and that he had another grandmother who loved him more; not to mention, Charlotte and Curtis had so much more to offer him. They had both the financial means and the kind of prestige that would afford him the best life possible, and this was the reason she’d settled on what she had to do. Before calling Matthew last night, she had thought maybe there was a chance he would finally listen to her, because if he had, she wouldn’t have to take matters into her own hands. But only minutes into their conversation, he’d quickly proven that contacting him had been a waste of time. Charlotte understood that, though, because she’d finally had to accept something: like Racquel, he was only eighteen and didn’t know any better. He barely knew what was best for himself, let alone what was best for a baby, and he would never stand up to Vanessa the way he needed to. So, again, Charlotte had to take matters into her own hands. It was time for her to do all that was necessary to protect little MJ’s interests, and when MJ was older, he would thank his nana for making such important sacrifices for him. Matthew would thank her, too, sometime down the road, and so would Curtis.
They couldn’t see it now, of course, but little MJ belonged with them. He had since the day he was born, and there was only one way to make that happen. She’d thought about it long and hard, making sure there were no alternatives—and there weren’t. This was absolutely the only way she could protect him now and in the future. It was a shame that the relationship between the two families hadn’t turned out better, but it was what it was, and Charlotte was fine with it. Sometimes life wasn’t meant to be easy, and you had to fight for what you wanted. Sometimes you had to fight for what you believed was right—you had to risk everything to safeguard your loved ones, and Charlotte had no problem doing that for her grandson.
Charlotte pushed the comforter and Egyptian sheet away from her, took a deep breath, and slowly raised herself up. Her head was heavy, and she couldn’t wait for this feeling to pass. This was definitely her last time drinking, or at least to this extent—no, it truly was her last time, because from here on out she had to focus on
taking care of MJ. She had to make sure he grew up with the best role models and the most respectable kind of family life. She had to make him proud. It was true that he was only a tiny baby, but in no time, he’d be entering kindergarten, then junior high, then high school, and then a top university.
She finally touched her feet to the floor, got up, and dragged into the bathroom. There was no point looking in the mirror, so she didn’t. She knew it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, so she pulled one of the white towels from the rack, ran it through cold water, and wiped her face with it. The cold towel hadn’t made a huge amount of difference, but she did feel somewhat better.
When she went back into the room, she strolled over to the bed, sat down, and turned on her phone. Just as she’d thought, there were six messages. If she had to guess, at least three of them were from Curtis, asking her when she was coming home and then eventually telling her he was through with her.
She dialed into her voice mail, and sure enough, Curtis had left three messages. The others were from her mom, Aunt Emma, and Janine. Charlotte was sure Curtis had told all three of them that she was “missing,” so she would make sure to call and let them know she was fine. She called Curtis now, though, because it was time to put her plan into action. She waited for him to answer, but she got his voice mail instead.
“Hi, this is Pastor Black. I’m unavailable right now, but if you’ll leave a message, I’ll get back to you at my earliest convenience. Thanks and God bless.”
Charlotte waited for the tone. “Hi, baby, it’s me. I really don’t know where to begin except to say I am so sorry for the way I acted yesterday. I’m sorry for ruining Valentine’s Day for us, and I’m sorry for…well…everything. I took a long look at myself last night and then again this morning, and I finally realized you were right. I definitely could have handled things with Vanessa and Racquel a lot differently. I was wrong, but I’m going to make things up to them. Anyway, baby, I’ll see you at home, okay? I love you.”
Charlotte ended the call, thought about little MJ, and smiled. Her head still hurt, but she was happy out of her mind. Things were finally looking up. They were about to change forever.
Chapter 23
Curtis and Curtina sat at the island, her reading a book and him watching a political segment on MSNBC. He’d just heard the garage door opening, so he knew Charlotte was home. She’d left him a message earlier in the day, but he hadn’t bothered calling her back. A part of him had wanted to, mostly to see where she’d spent the night and when she was coming home, but he had been too angry to dial her number. Then, about an hour ago, she’d called him again, but he’d hit Ignore as soon as her name had displayed. He loved his wife, there was no mistaking that, but sometimes he despised some of the things she did. Her actions were irrational, and there were days when he wanted to shake her and tell her to grow up. It was one thing when spoiled little children didn’t get what they wanted and threw tantrums, but it was something different when you were talking about a woman in her thirties. It was uncalled for and annoying, and Curtis wished she would check herself. What he wanted was for her to realize that in the real world, people rarely got everything they demanded, but they still did what they needed to do to get along with others. They pushed forward and recognized that there was no such thing as a perfect life. Having a good life was possible, even a very blessed one, but flawlessness simply wasn’t attainable.
Charlotte walked inside the kitchen, and Curtina jumped down from her chair and ran over to her.
“Mommy!”
Charlotte squeezed her tightly. “Hi, sweetie. How was school today?”
“Good, but I missed you. Where were you? And why didn’t you call me?”
“Mommy had a really rough day yesterday, and she needed some time away. I’m fine now, though.”
“Were you sad about something?”
“No.”
“Were you upset about little MJ?”
Charlotte looked over at Curtis, but he shook his head and looked back to the television. He could tell she didn’t know how to answer Curtina, who had obviously picked up on her rants about the baby over the last three weeks.
“No, honey,” she lied. I just needed some time to myself. Sometimes mommies need that.”
“Well, I missed you, and I wish you would take me with you next time. Maybe we can have a mommy-and-daughter sleepover.”
Charlotte laughed quietly. “That’s a good idea. We’ll have to see about planning something like that. But more importantly, what kind of homework do you have for this evening?”
“A lot. Our teacher has been giving us a bunch of work to do, and that doesn’t leave a lot of time for me to watch my shows.”
Curtis still didn’t have a whole lot to say to Charlotte, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at Curtina.
“What’s so funny, Daddy?”
“You.”
“What did I do?”
“Nothing,” he said, “but I think you’d better go up to your room and get started.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that thirty minutes of preschool homework was hardly “a bunch of work.”
“Okaaaayy,” she groaned. “But can I watch TV when I finish?”
“If you get done with everything before eight o’clock.”
“Brianna gets to stay up until nine, so why can’t I?” Brianna was one of Curtina’s schoolmates.
“Because your bedtime is at eight,” he said.
“I know, but why?”
“We’ve already been over this, little girl,” Curtis said. “And the longer you stay down here asking questions you already know the answer to, the less time you’ll have to watch your programs.”
Curtina left the kitchen and went upstairs in a hurry.
Charlotte walked around the island, pulled out the chair next to him, and sat down. “Can I talk to you?”
Curtis didn’t look at her but said, “What about?”
“Yesterday. I’m really sorry for the way I acted. I was completely out of line, and I was wrong for driving over to Chicago and not telling you until after the fact.”
Curtis flipped the channel on the television.
“Baby, I know you’re angry, but I promise this won’t happen again. I’m even going to call Racquel first thing in the morning to see if I can go talk to her and Vanessa.”
Now Curtis turned his head toward her. “So when did you decide that?”
“Today. I’m going to make peace with them and then do what you’re always telling everyone else to do: let go and let God. And Curtis, what I mostly want you to know is how much I love you.”
It was all he could do not to grab her into his arms, but he couldn’t let her off that easy, so he turned toward the TV again.
Charlotte touched the bottom of his chin with her hand and turned his face back toward her. “Baby, I’m serious. No matter what I say or do, it never changes the way I feel about you. I love you with all my heart, and I feel awful about ruining our dinner plans. Especially on Valentine’s Day. But I promise to make it up to you tonight,” she said, caressing his cheek.
“How?” he said, smiling slightly.
“I think you know.”
“Maybe, but why don’t you explain it to me?”
“Why don’t you just wait and see?”
“Actually, I’m still mad at you, so I think I’ll pass.”
“Come on, baby. Please forgive me. Pretty please,” she begged in a playful tone.
Curtis looked at her again. “You really get under my skin sometimes, and I’ll be honest. You had me so worked up last night that if I were a cursing man, I would have rattled off every word I could think of. I was just that outraged.”
“I know, but I really needed that time to think and reflect, and it was worth it.”
“I hope that’s true.”
“I’m serious. I spent the entire night at my favorite hotel all by myself.”
“And there was no drinking?” Curtis hadn’t wanted to think about t
hat, but he also hadn’t been able to stop worrying about the possibility.
“Of course not,” she said. “I learned my lesson from that last year.”
Curtis didn’t know if he believed her or not, but he took her word for it for the sake of his sanity. As it was, he had other issues to concern himself with.
“Can I have a kiss?” she asked.
“You’re only being this way because you know you were wrong.”
“Okay, fine,” she said, getting up.
But Curtis grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. “I love you, too,” he said, and kissed her.
Charlotte was a handful, to say the least, but there was no denying how much he loved her, and he didn’t like arguing with her. He never liked when they weren’t speaking and things weren’t good between them.
They kissed for a while, until Charlotte said, “Can’t you get someone else to cover Bible study tonight?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said, still holding on to her. “I’m sure Minister Simmons will be glad to do it.”
“Ha! I’m sure he will be, too. He never says no to you about anything. He’ll be thrilled to death.”
“You’re funny. Let me call him now.”
Curtis lifted his phone from the island, dialed, and waited.
“Hey, Pastor,” Minister Simmons said.
“How’s it going? I hate calling at the last minute, but I need a favor.”
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