“I know, and I won’t do it again,” she said as they began walking toward the hospital.
“So how is your dad doing, anyway?”
“He’s coming along fine, and both his cardiologist and primary care doctor are happy with the way he’s recovering,” Charlotte said, but she felt a bit tipsy. Until now, she hadn’t thought she’d drunk the same amount as last night, but maybe she had.
“Oh, and Carl sends his love and so does Bethany.”
“Please thank them for me.”
“I will. They both wanted to come, but Bethany has this big science project she’s working on, and her dad is helping her.”
“I totally understand, and I’ll have to give our little goddaughter a call. Maybe she could even serve as an example for her godsister. And she’s three years younger than Curtina.”
Janine chuckled. “Things have to get better, though, and I’m sure they will.”
Charlotte and Janine walked inside the hospital and took the elevator up to the floor her dad’s room was on.
Joe put on a big smile. “There’s my other daughter.”
“Hey, Dad,” Janine said, hugging him. “It’s great to see you doing so well.”
“It’s great to be seen, my dear.”
Janine went around the bed and hugged Noreen. “How are you, Mom?”
“I’m good, honey, and thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course,” she said, “and I’m here for whatever you need.”
“You’re a great friend,” Noreen told her, “and like Joe just said, our other daughter.”
“I was just telling Charlotte that Carl and Bethany send their love. She has a science project that she needs to finish up, but they’re definitely thinking about you and praying for you, Dad.”
“I really appreciate that. I need all the prayers I can get.”
Noreen agreed. “Yes, and thank God for everyone who has been doing just that,” she said, turning her attention to Charlotte. “Not long ago, a few members from the church came by, too. It was very kind of them, and they asked where you were.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything, but she could already imagine what some of them were thinking. That she should’ve been there with her father nonstop. Charlotte knew how some of them thought because it had only been two years ago that some women had complained that Charlotte didn’t visit the sick and shut-in the way she should—or as much as they believed she should, anyway. Never mind the fact that the church had a very capable and dedicated sick-and-shut-in ministry, and that Charlotte did try to see as many people as she could; these women still didn’t feel she was doing enough. Then there was the time when other women had thought she should host a lot more women’s events than she had over the last few years. What they wanted was for her to give her absolute all to them and the church, even if it meant sacrificing time for herself and her family. They never thought about things like this. They merely saw her as first lady of a prominent church and assumed that she wanted nothing more than to make each of them happy, even if it left her miserable and empty.
Just as Charlotte finished her last thought, Matthew, Stacey, and MJ walked in.
“Hey, Grandpa,” MJ said, walking right past Charlotte and over to the bed. He leaned over and hugged his grandfather.
“Hey, great-grandson, how are you?”
“Good, how are you?”
“Wonderful, and now that you and your dad and mom are here, I’m even better.”
“Hey, Grandpa,” Matthew said, hugging him, and so did Stacey.
“So what happened to you, Grandpa?” MJ wanted to know. “Why did you get sick?”
“Well, MJ, your grandpa wasn’t quite taking care of himself the way he should. But God still took care of me.”
MJ wrinkled his forehead. “Why weren’t you taking care of yourself?”
Noreen laughed. “Good for you, MJ. Ask him anything you want.”
Joe tossed Noreen a playful eye roll.
“Tell me, Grandpa,” MJ continued. “Why weren’t you taking care of yourself?”
“I just wasn’t. I made a mistake, but I won’t do that again.”
“You promise?”
“I promise, and I’m so sorry I got sick on your big singing day.”
“That’s okay, Grandpa. I was already finished anyway, remember? So you still got to hear me sing the whole time. Everybody did.”
Everyone laughed.
MJ smiled but looked dumbfounded. “Why are all of you laughing?”
“No reason,” Matthew said.
“Well, you did an awesome job,” Joe told MJ, “and I can’t wait to hear you again.”
“We all can’t wait,” Noreen said.
“Thanks, Grandma. Thanks, Grandpa.”
They all chatted about one thing or another, and then Matthew looked at Charlotte. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You look tired.”
“That’s because I am,” Charlotte said, trying to appear as though she were completely sober, because now she knew for sure that she wasn’t. And her realization had nothing to do with her son asking her a question. Instead, it was because of the way her mom had just looked at her. Noreen hadn’t said anything, but Charlotte could tell that she knew her daughter was drinking again. Charlotte could see it in her mother’s eyes, and she was ashamed of herself. And for this reason, she wouldn’t drink any more after tonight. She would finish the rest of the wine that was sitting in her trunk, and that would be it. For good.
Chapter 22
As expected, Joe had been released from the hospital on Wednesday, and since Noreen had decided to drive him home to Chicago that same afternoon, Charlotte had followed behind them. She’d then spent the night, making sure her parents had everything they needed, and returned home on Thursday. Of course, before she’d left Mitchell, she and Curtis still hadn’t been on the best of terms, but by that evening, they’d been so glad to see each other, they’d made up in more ways than one. So, needless to say, life had been good for them for two whole weeks.
But so much for marital peace and harmony, because Curtis had sort of started slipping back into his old ways. He wasn’t completely ignoring Charlotte, but to her, he was still being insensitive when it came to her dad, and she didn’t like it. Take yesterday, for instance. They’d gotten up like they would on any normal Saturday, but when Charlotte had asked Curtis if he was planning to spend the day at her parents’ with her, he’d told her that he’d already invited all the children to drive over to Trina and Jason’s. Charlotte hadn’t seen anything wrong with that, except for the fact that he hadn’t told her about it beforehand. Curtis had simply made plans and assumed she didn’t have any of her own. But even after they’d experienced this small misunderstanding, she’d heard him out, understood his reasoning, and had told him and Curtina to have a good time.
She’d also spoken to Matthew and had thought it was great for him, Stacey, MJ, Alicia, Levi, Dillon, and Porsha to go as well. With the exception of Alicia, none of them had gotten a chance to know their father’s only sister, and she believed the visit would likely make Trina happy. And as it had turned out, they’d all ended up staying for the entire day. To be fair, though, Curtis had asked Charlotte again if she wanted to come with them, but since she’d already gone with him to see Trina the previous Saturday, she’d told him she would see her another time.
So as far as she was concerned, all had been well—until early evening had rolled around, and not a single one of them had found the decency to drop by to see her father. Not even for a few minutes. She’d just assumed that when they all left Trina’s they would come by her mom and dad’s. Especially since her parents didn’t live more than twenty to thirty minutes from Jason and Trina. Charlotte had been so upset about it, but she did have to admit, that during her drive home last night, she couldn’t help wondering if maybe she was overreacting. Her mom and dad had certainly thought she was, and maybe they were
right. Maybe she was dead wrong for having any problem at all with the amount of time Curtis was spending with Trina, because it was like he kept telling her, his sister was terminally ill. Maybe her anger toward Curtis had nothing to do with Trina and had everything to do with how miserable she was. Maybe she was the essence of that old cliché “misery loves company.” Because in all honesty, she truly was unhappy, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
Yes, Curtina was acting somewhat better, but that was mostly because she’d been doing all she could to get her phone back—and even more so now that they’d actually returned it to her yesterday morning on a trial basis. She, of course, had no idea that her father had installed tracking software on it, and that he’d already read all of her text message communications from the last twenty-four hours—and reviewed her Internet browsing activity. But the good news was that she hadn’t texted anything disrespectful or age-inappropriate, and she also hadn’t visited any adults-only kind of web sites.
Still, she wasn’t the same child from a few months ago, and she continued to be distant. Not so much with Curtis, but her loving relationship with Charlotte wasn’t nearly back to where it should be.
Then there was this church sabbatical she had already begun—the one Curtis still didn’t know about. Last Sunday, when she’d told him that she wasn’t going to service, he’d wanted to know why, but when she’d explained that she was driving back over to see her father, he had fully understood. He hadn’t questioned any other possible motives, and he had also told her he thought it was a good idea.
But that was a whole week ago, and Charlotte wasn’t sure how he would respond to her not going again today. She was about to find out now.
“Why are you still in your pajamas?” Curtis said, strolling out of their walk-in closet and over to the dresser. He stood in front of the mirror wrapping his tie around his neck and under his shirt collar.
“I’m not feeling well,” she lied. “I don’t know if I’m getting a cold or if I’m just run down from making so many trips back and forth to Chicago. And of course, worrying about my dad.”
Curtis pulled his tie through its first loop. “Really? Then maybe you should go to the immediate care clinic.”
Charlotte hadn’t been expecting him to suggest anything like that, but she kept a straight face and said, “If I feel any worse, maybe so.”
“I’m a little tired myself, so once the last service is over, Curtina and I will just plan on coming straight home.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything, but today was the one day when she’d been hoping that he would leave church and head straight over to Chicago to see his sister. She’d also been hoping that he would take Curtina with him, because that way she’d be able to enjoy her time at home in peace. She’d be able to do what she wanted without either of them seeing her.
“So what do you want me to pick up for dinner?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Pretty much anything will be fine.”
“Okay, but if you think of something you really want, just text me.”
“I will.”
“And does Curtina know you’re not going to church?” he asked.
“No.”
“Well, then you should probably let her know, because I’m sure she thinks she’s riding with you and coming a little later.”
Charlotte knew he was right, and although she’d never told him this before, she missed the days when they sometimes rode to church as a family. She knew Curtis liked arriving well before anyone else so he could pray, meditate, and review his sermon notes, but when she, he, and Curtina rode together, Sunday morning service seemed a lot more enjoyable. She wasn’t sure why exactly, although she suspected that it had a lot to do with the fact that their entire lives were centered around the church. She didn’t mind their lives being centered on God and His Word, but sometimes the church seemed to mean a lot more to Curtis than family. He didn’t purposely mean for that to happen, and she was sure that if someone were to ask him he would say he never did. But as his wife, Charlotte knew different. She also wondered how many other pastors’ wives—how many veteran first ladies—felt the same as her. If she had to guess, there were probably hundreds and maybe thousands. Many like her who hadn’t shared their misery with anyone, not even their husbands, and were painfully suffering in silence.
Charlotte got up, went to Curtina’s room, and knocked on the door.
“Yes?”
“Are you getting dressed?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, since I’m not going to church today, your dad needs you to be ready in about twenty minutes. Have you already showered?”
“I just finished.”
“Okay, well, you need to be ready very soon.”
Charlotte waited for Curtina to respond, but of course she didn’t, probably because she was sitting in her bed texting. Even if she was, though, Charlotte didn’t have the energy or desire to open the door and find out. Today was going to be a great, relaxing day, and she wasn’t about to let Curtina or anyone else ruin it for her.
After about thirty minutes, Curtina rushed downstairs—something that happened only after Curtis had yelled up to her room with a bit more bass in his voice than he had the first two times. So now Charlotte stood looking out of her bedroom window, watching them back out of the garage, maneuver around the circle driveway, and head down to the street. Charlotte waited for the wrought-iron gate to open and close, and when it did, she smiled.
She hadn’t felt this free and relieved in years, so she quickly left her bedroom, strolled down to one of the guest bedrooms, went inside, and walked into the closet. She squatted down, reached toward the very back of it, moved a couple of shoe boxes to the side, and pulled out a small, fluffy brown blanket. She unfolded it and grabbed the pint of vodka that she’d purchased in Chicago yesterday before heading back home. Two weeks ago, when she’d realized her mother knew she was drinking, she’d made a vow to quit again. But it had been more of a struggle than she’d counted on. Still, she’d prayed and fought through her bouts of fiending until yesterday, when Curtis and the children hadn’t come by to see her dad. She’d allowed herself to become too upset, and the next thing she’d known, she’d been stopping at a neighborhood liquor store in the suburb where her parents lived. She’d had on full makeup this time, but she’d still pulled her fake glasses and baseball cap from her trunk and put them on before going inside.
Charlotte stood up and went back to her bedroom. There was no one home, and she’d already placed her cell and home phones on silent. What she wanted was to enjoy her vodka in peace and watch a good movie.
Charlotte got in bed, crossed her legs Indian style, turned on the television, and opened her liquor. She took a nice, long swig, straight, no chaser, and half coughed, but boy was it good. She’d told herself that if she ever drank alcohol again, she would stick to wine, but yesterday she’d felt she needed something else. She hadn’t wanted to drink and drive or get drunk before Curtis and Curtina had arrived home last night, so she’d waited until she’d pulled into the driveway to take a few sips. And she likely would have taken more, but by the time she’d walked into the house and gotten undressed, Curtis and Curtina had pulled up. So all she’d had time to do was run and hide the bottle in the guest bedroom closet, rinse her mouth with mouthwash, and pull two pieces of gum from her purse.
But now she didn’t have to rush or worry about anything, because with Curtis and Curtina attending both services, it would be early afternoon before they returned home. That would give her at least five hours, which was the reason she smiled again, removed the top from the bottle, and took another drink.
But just as she did, Curtina knocked and opened the door all at the same time. “Daddy forgot his—”
Charlotte jumped and nearly dropped the pint of vodka from her hands. “I thought you and your dad were gone,” she said, securing the top on the bottle and laying it to the side of her on the bed.
Curtina looked at her li
ke she’d stolen something.
Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say, although she wanted to tell her daughter that a child was supposed to knock and wait until a parent told them to come in. Just like Charlotte and Curtis did when they knocked on her door.
“Mom, why are you drinking? You said you would never do that again.”
“Um, I know, but it’s just this one time.”
“Does Daddy know?”
“No, and we’re not going to tell him, right? You know how he feels about drinking, Curtina, and this is my last time doing this. I promise.”
“Daddy hates drinking because of his father,” Curtina said, as if Charlotte didn’t know the entire story.
“Exactly, and that’s why I’m not going to drink anymore. And the reason you and I are going to keep this to ourselves. Right?”
Curtina ignored her mother’s words and walked around to the short hallway in their bedroom where their closet was. “Daddy forgot his phone in his leather jacket.”
Charlotte’s stomach turned multiple somersaults. What if Curtina told her father everything? What if she squealed about Charlotte’s drinking just for the sake of it? Just to be mean?
Charlotte’s heart raced, and she could kick herself for not setting the alarm system after Curtis and Curtina had left. Rarely did they arm it when Charlotte or Curtis was home, but if she had, she would have heard Curtina coming back into the house. And why hadn’t she just left her bedroom door open after all?
Curtina returned from the closet with her dad’s phone and looked at her mom on the way out.
Charlotte swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Curtina?”
Curtina stopped but still had an I caught you in the act look on her face. “I don’t want to upset Daddy, so I’m not telling him anything. He’s already sad about Aunt Trina.”
“I know, and again, I’m done with this. I’m even going to pour the rest of this out when you leave.”
Curtina still showed no emotion and clearly didn’t believe her.
Better Late Than Never Page 15
