Better Late Than Never

by Kimberla Lawson Roby

  “You dumb little idiot,” Thomas yelled. “Stupid little bastard. You’re nothing more than scum on the street, and I can already tell you’ll never amount to anything.”

  Curtis looked at his mom and felt sick to his stomach.

  But Pauline didn’t say anything. She just kept stirring the pot of spaghetti as though his father hadn’t said a word to Curtis—her firstborn child.

  Curtis swallowed hard, becoming more nervous by the second, and wondered why his mother wouldn’t defend him. Why she never defended him. She’d done this kind of thing all the time, and Curtis couldn’t understand why she saw no reason to protect him. Because wasn’t that what mothers were supposed to do? Protect their children from people who wanted to harm them? Even if one of those people was their own diabolical father? Curtis could tell how afraid of him she was, but why she wouldn’t stop this monster from belittling him, and more important, beating him, well, Curtis just didn’t get that.

  “Bring your dumb behind in here,” his father yelled angrily. “And grab a beer out of that icebox and bring it with you.”

  Curtis always hated doing that, because it made him feel as though he was helping his father get drunk. But he knew if he didn’t do as he was told, there would be trouble. So he pulled a brown bottle of beer from the refrigerator and took it to him.

  His father turned up the beer he was just finishing and reached it toward Curtis, who guessed it was so he could throw it away. But then he told Curtis to open the full one. Curtis cringed yet lifted the opener from the small wooden table next to his dad and flipped the top off the bottle. Then he passed it to Thomas.

  “No, you drink some first,” he demanded.

  Curtis felt more nauseated than before and wondered why his father was asking him to do something like this. Because regardless of how much he drank himself, he’d never asked Curtis to consume alcohol. “Please, Dad, I don’t want to.”

  His father sat up straighter in the worn-down olive-green crushed-velvet chair. “What did you say? Are you talking back to me?”

  Curtis slowly backed away from him. “Uh…no…but I don’t want any.”

  His father moved to the edge of the chair, squinting his eyes. “You do want it. And from here on out, you’ll want whatever I tell you to want.”

  Curtis was terrified and wondered why his mom still hadn’t as much as looked into the living room to see what his father was doing to him. She never even grunted, let alone said anything. So Curtis took another couple of steps backward from his dad.

  But when he did, Thomas got to his feet, grabbed him by his neck with one hand, and yanked the beer away from Curtis with the other.

  It was then that Curtis dropped the empty bottle to the floor.

  “I said drink this, and I mean it!” his father yelled.

  Tears fell down Curtis’s face. “No, Dad. I don’t want to.”

  Thomas’s eyes grew angrier. “Don’t you talk back to me. Don’t you ever talk back to me,” he said, and then forced the beer bottle into Curtis’s mouth.

  Curtis tried to move his head away, but soon, he had no choice but to swallow some of the alcohol, all the while choking on it and coughing uncontrollably.

  His father released him and laughed hysterically. “You’re nothin’ but an ignorant little wimp. A weak little punk who I wish had never been born,” he exclaimed, pouring the rest of the beer on Curtis’s head and face. “Now take this in the kitchen and get me another one.”

  Curtis tried to stop crying but he couldn’t, and now his face was soaking wet—from tears and the beer his father had tortured him with. Still, as he dragged himself into the kitchen, all his mom did was gaze at him, seemingly with sad eyes and a look of sorrow. And it was at that moment that Curtis knew she would never protect him and that when he was older he would leave this house of terror and never look back. He was only thirteen, and Lord knows he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to last living there another five years, but he would. He would trust the God that he’d been reading about and getting to know as much as he could, and he would work hard in school so he could graduate, go to college, and never be poor again. When he was older, he would buy his wife and children a big beautiful home, and they would never want for anything—he was going to make sure of it. Why? Because he was smart, and he made A’s in every subject. And while Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had passed away four years ago, Curtis thought about his “We Shall Overcome” speech. He thought about it a lot, because he, too, would overcome someday. Deep in his heart, he knew he would.

  He just had to.

  Chapter 7

  Charlotte pressed the phone button on the center console of her vehicle, searched through her contact list, and scrolled down a few lines. When she saw her best friend’s cell number appear on the dashboard, she selected it. She’d almost called Janine at her office, but since it was just after noon, she knew Janine was probably already heading out to lunch.

  Janine answered right after the second ring. “Hey, girl.”

  “Hey, yourself. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Just on my way down to the parking lot so I can go grab a sandwich. What about you?”

  “I’m okay. I’m actually heading to get something to eat as well.”

  “Really? Are you nearby?”

  “No, almost in Schaumburg.”

  “Oh, okay. Are you going shopping, too?”

  “Yeah, maybe. But mostly I just needed to get away for the afternoon.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Not really. Yesterday, Curtis found out that his sister has cancer.”

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did she call him? Because I know they haven’t spoken in a while.”

  “No, her husband, Jason, did. He called Curtis right before the first service began, and we drove over there to see her in the afternoon.”

  “How wonderful.”

  “Yes, definitely. Curtis is so happy about their reconnection. He’s really hurt about her illness, especially since her prognosis isn’t good. But he’s very glad to have her in his life again.”

  “I can only imagine, and I’m sure his sister really needs him right now.”

  “She does. Which is why I’m glad Curtis drove back over there this morning.”

  “But is that all that’s bothering you? Your sister-in-law’s illness? Because, to tell you the truth, you haven’t seemed like yourself for a while.”

  “Well, for one, Curtina is driving us crazy. She’s so mouthy and disrespectful, and Curtis and I are getting sick of it. Actually, we’re past sick.”

  “I know you’d mentioned how distant she’d become, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

  “Girl, you don’t know the half of it. And she stays on her phone nonstop. Texting her little girlfriends every chance she gets. Not to mention the C’s she’s bringing home now. And the only reason she’s getting those is because she’s smart enough to pass her tests without studying. She’s always been able to make a C without doing any homework, but C’s are completely unacceptable. At least to Curtis and me they are.”

  “Maybe she’s just going through puberty. When I was her age, I acted out a little myself.”

  “Yeah, so did I, but with the age of new technology, these children are much worse.”

  “Have you tried to talk to her?”

  “All the time, and that’s why I’m tired.”

  “Wow, I really hate hearing that, and now you’ve got me worried about Bethany.”

  Bethany was Janine and Carl’s only child, and she was also Charlotte and Curtis’s goddaughter.

  Charlotte adjusted her sun visor. “Hmmph. As much as I hate to say it, you have a right to be. Bethany has always been a good girl, though. But then so was Curtina. Yet now, she’s getting on my very last nerve.”

  “Gosh, that’s really too bad. And I hope things get better soon.”

  “Me too, but I don’t know. I mean, she’s noth
ing like Matthew was. He was such a good child, all the way through his teen years, and he never talked back to us. He never thought he was grown.”

  “Every child is different, though.”

  “Very true,” Charlotte said, remembering all the problems they’d had with their daughter Marissa…before she’d died. But then, Marissa hadn’t been a normal child, either, and had inherited mental issues from her father, Aaron—the man Charlotte had slept with behind Curtis’s back, yet Curtis had still accepted Marissa and treated her as his own.

  “Maybe you should have Matthew talk to her. And Alicia, too. Maybe she’ll listen to her big brother and big sister a little more than she’s listening to you and Curtis.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I know this must be hard, but this too shall pass. The same as it does with all the other problems we have in life.”

  “I agree, but I just hope this passes sooner rather than later.”

  “I hear you,” Janine said. “Well, girl, I just pulled up to the deli, but if you get a chance, call me later. I should be off work right at five.”

  “I will, and if not, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good, and you hang in there.”

  “Thanks for listening.”

  “Anytime. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Charlotte ended the call, turned her radio to SiriusXM’s Heart & Soul channel, and enjoyed the rest of her drive into the northwest suburbs. Curtis loved listening to a few different gospel- and Christian-related channels, but sometimes Charlotte needed a change of pace—sometimes she didn’t want to hear anything that reminded her of Deliverance Outreach. Because there were days and moments when she just wanted to be normal. Left alone and able to exist without so many moral pressures. Plus, she didn’t see a thing wrong with listening to secular music, as long as it didn’t include profanity or explicit sexual language.

  Charlotte drove along, enjoying herself, and then several miles later, she pulled into the parking lot of a popular Italian restaurant. When she walked inside, the hostess escorted her to a nice, quiet booth, and she was sort of glad to see many of the customers leaving. This was actually part of the reason she hadn’t wanted to arrive before one o’clock. Because by then, she’d known that most people would be heading back to work.

  “Hello,” a petite, beautiful young woman said, smiling. “My name is Charlotte, and I’ll be taking care of you.”

  Charlotte smiled also. “Well, hello, and what a coincidence. My name is Charlotte, too.”

  “Oh my, then I guess we won’t have any problems remembering each other’s name, huh?”

  “No, I guess not,” she said, and they both chuckled.

  “So can I get you something to drink?”

  “How about a glass of Riesling wine?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”

  Charlotte scanned the menu that the hostess had set in front of her, but soon she felt a little guilty. And she knew the reason. During breakfast, she’d decided that drinking alcohol would only cause problems for her and Curtis. However, once Curtis had left for Chicago, she’d realized that having one glass of wine wasn’t going to hurt anyone. It wouldn’t cause a single bit of harm; hence the reason she’d driven sixty miles away from Mitchell. Of course, she certainly didn’t believe that drinking alcohol was sinful, not if a person didn’t overdo it or cause danger to others. But she’d still known it was probably best to find a restaurant far enough away that she wouldn’t run into some of their church members. Or residents of Mitchell, period.

  There were definitely people in the Chicago area and in most other states who knew what she looked like, thanks to her husband’s nationally known ministry and bestselling books, but she still had a better chance here in Schaumburg of not being recognized. At least on a weekday, anyway, because many out-of-town people did tend to frequent the area on weekends.

  Charlotte’s waitress returned to the table, setting down a long-stemmed glass and filling it halfway with the wine she’d ordered. “Will you be having more than one glass? If so, I’ll leave the bottle on the table.”

  “No, I think this will be all.”

  “Sounds good. And for lunch?”

  “Mmm…” Charlotte said, taking one last glance at the menu. “I’ll have your house salad and the mushroom ravioli with white sauce for my entrée.”

  “The ravioli is very tasty, and I’ll get this ordered for you right away.”

  “Thanks,” Charlotte said, smiling and then eyeing the glass of Riesling that sat in front of her. She’d been so sure that having a drink wasn’t going to cause issues for Curtis and the rest of her family, but now she couldn’t help thinking about the time she’d drank uncontrollably. That had been eight years ago, but it wasn’t as though she’d been an alcoholic. She had just found a way to deal with the many marital problems she and Curtis had been struggling with. Today was different, though, as she was only drinking casually, the way any normal person would.

  Charlotte lifted the glass, took a couple of sips, and closed her eyes. The wine tasted as good as she remembered, so she took another couple of sips, and it wasn’t long before she felt the relaxing effects of it. In the past, she’d had to drink at least two glasses to feel the way she felt now, but maybe drinking on an empty stomach was making all the difference. That and the fact that she hadn’t consumed alcohol in a very long time.

  Charlotte set the almost-empty glass down and then looked across the room and saw a handsome gentleman smiling at her. But all she did was smile back at him and quickly turn away. He was sitting with another man, likely a business associate, and she hoped he wasn’t planning to approach her.

  Charlotte finished the last of her wine, and then her phone vibrated. When she removed it from her purse, her stomach turned flips. But she pulled herself together and answered it.

  “Hi, baby,” she said to Curtis.

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Fine, and how is Trina?”

  “About the same, but she’s taking a nap right now. What are you doing?”

  “Having lunch at the deli down the street,” she lied.

  “Ritchie’s?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t be there with you, and thank you again for understanding my need to spend as much time as possible with my sister.”

  “Of course. And please don’t apologize for that. Take all the time you need.”

  “I love you for that, and once Jason gets home from work, I’ll be on my way back to Mitchell.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you, too, honey.”

  Charlotte pressed the End button on her phone and dropped it back in her bag. She so hated lying to Curtis. For years, she’d done this pretty regularly, but not recently, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to make a habit of it.

  After the waitress brought her salad to the table, she took a couple of bites of it, looked up, and saw the handsome man watching her again. They made eye contact, and then he continued conversing with the man he was having lunch with. There was a time when Charlotte would have found herself interested in someone like him, but today she was a different woman. She loved Curtis with her entire being, and seeing another man was the last thing she wanted to do. And she was proud of that. She was happy that the husband and the life she had were finally enough. That is, with the exception of this first-lady business that she no longer wanted any part of. She still hadn’t told Curtis that she wouldn’t be attending church this coming Sunday, but she would. She wouldn’t tell him her true feelings about wanting to step away completely, however, at some point, she would be honest about that, too.

  She wished she could feel differently, for his sake and everyone else’s, but she couldn’t help how miserable she was. She was sorry, but this was her new reality—and it was time she did what made her happy.

  Chapter 8

  Charlotte walked inside the k
itchen, closing the door leading from the garage and feeling a bit lightheaded. Now she wondered if having three glasses of wine had been a good idea. She certainly hadn’t planned on having more than one, but before she’d known it, she’d asked the waitress to refill her glass and then fill it again. Although, maybe she hadn’t eaten enough, and that was the reason she felt somewhat weak. She had finished most of her salad but not all of her mushroom ravioli. She also hadn’t eaten very much for breakfast this morning.

  Charlotte set her purse on the island, and while she’d known Curtis wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours, she sort of wished he would drive back sooner. Because if he did, she wouldn’t have to deal with Curtina’s nasty attitude. Their daughter usually arrived home around three thirty, and since it was now four thirty, Charlotte knew she was already upstairs not doing her homework, and instead texting on her phone like some addict. Though Charlotte was pleasantly surprised about Curtina having reactivated the security system, because even though she knew she was supposed to do so, even in the daytime, she usually didn’t.

  Charlotte walked into the hallway and down toward the front of the house near the staircase. “Curtina!”

  She waited for a response but there wasn’t one.

  Charlotte frowned. “Curtina,” she yelled again, “don’t make me come up there.”

  Again there was no reply.

  Charlotte hated when Curtina ignored her like this, and enough was enough. So she went up the stairs and down to her daughter’s room. Strangely, the door wasn’t closed, and when Charlotte walked in, Curtina was nowhere to be found.

  Charlotte shook her head, wondering where she was, and then went back downstairs to grab her cell phone. She quickly dialed Curtina’s number. Of course, she didn’t answer.

  Charlotte left her a voice mail message. “Curtina, where in the world are you? You know you’re supposed to come straight home, and you’d better call me as soon as you get this message. And get your little behind back here. Now.”