“I don’t know,” she said, pushing her oversized handbag farther up on her shoulder.
“Well, if you want, you can just follow me home and that way if Racquel gets upset, I’ll take all the blame. I’ll tell her you didn’t wanna come without calling, but that I told you it was fine.”
“I really do miss her, and I’m worried about her. Okay, I’ll come.”
“I really appreciate this.”
“I still have to pick up a few things, so why don’t I call you when I’m finished.”
“Sounds good. Do you have my number?” he asked.
“No. Just call me so I’ll have it.”
As Jasmine recited her cell number, Matthew typed it into his phone and pressed Send.
When she saw his number display, she said, “Okay, got it.”
“See you shortly,” he said.
Jasmine went on her way to finish up her shopping, and for a second Matthew wondered if he was doing the right thing. He knew Racquel might be upset, but he’d already tried everything else. She wasn’t listening to anyone, so all he could hope was that Jasmine’s visit ended up being a positive thing. Even if it wasn’t, though, it wasn’t like he had anything to lose. The worst that could happen was that Racquel might yell at him the way she always did and then stop speaking to him. So what else was new? This sort of treatment had become her normal MO, and now he almost expected it from her. It was just the way things were. But today, he was taking matters into his own hands to try to help her. She might not think so, but he was doing this for her own good. He was doing the only thing he could think to do because, with the exception of trying to get Jasmine to talk to her, he was out of ideas. He was at his wit’s end. He had been for a while.
Chapter 8
Matthew drove up to the front of the apartment complex, and so did Jasmine. He was still a little nervous about his decision to bring her home with him, but it was too late to change his mind about it. Plus, it was like he’d been thinking before, what did he have to lose? Not much at all, because things were already so bad between him and Racquel that he couldn’t fathom them getting any worse.
He stepped out of his vehicle, opened the back door, and pulled out as many plastic bags as he could.
Jasmine got out of her car, too, and strolled around to where he was standing. “Need some help?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Matthew passed her three of the bags he’d already taken out, shut the door, and they headed toward the building. They lived in a secure location, so he set two of the bags down and opened the door with his key. Once inside, he and Jasmine made their way up the first flight of stairs. Thankfully, he and Racquel had been able to rent a unit on the second floor because normally the elevator took forever, and they rarely used it.
When they arrived in front of the door, Matthew unlocked it, and they both walked in. They heard a TV playing from the bedroom and little MJ crying.
“Baby?” he said, calling out to Racquel and walking through to the kitchen. When she didn’t respond, he set down the bags he was carrying and went to look for her.
Jasmine placed the other bags on the table and stood where she was.
“What are you doing?” Matthew yelled, walking into the bedroom. Racquel sat comfortably against two pillows, eating from a large bag of potato chips. Strangely enough, her hair was actually combed pretty decently. “Don’t you hear MJ crying?”
Racquel looked at him and then back at the TV.
Matthew rushed out of the room and into MJ’s and pulled him from his crib. “Awww, it’s okay, little man. I’m so sorry. Are you hungry?” he said, holding the back of MJ’s little head and rocking him. MJ screamed louder, and Matthew tried his best to calm him. Finally, he took him into the kitchen and passed him to Jasmine so he could fix him a bottle. When MJ saw that Matthew was getting ready to feed him, he cried a little less and he also laid his head on Jasmine’s shoulder. He barely knew her, but maybe he’d cried so much, he was just happy to be held. There was no telling how long Racquel had been ignoring him, and she still hadn’t come out of that bedroom to see about him.
Jasmine moved her body from side to side, continuing to comfort MJ, until Matthew took him from her. MJ drank his bottle so quickly and intensely, he acted as though he hadn’t eaten in days. Something was very wrong. Racquel had a lot of issues, but one thing she never slacked on was taking care of their son.
“Do you think I should go talk to her?” Jasmine whispered.
“Of course, you should,” Racquel said, strolling into the room, hugging her. “I thought that was you I heard.”
“I saw Matt at the store and since I hadn’t heard back from you, I decided to stop over.”
Racquel never acknowledged any of Jasmine’s phone calls and acted as though everything was fine. It was as if Matthew hadn’t just come home and found MJ in his room all alone, crying for someone to come get him. She was also in a better mood than Matthew had seen in months.
“Girl, let’s go sit in the living room,” Racquel said, never once looking at Matthew or MJ. “You’ll have to excuse all the mess.”
Jasmine sat on the loveseat. “Now, Quel, you know you don’t need to explain anything to me. I’m just glad to see you. It’s been a long time.”
“So how’s school? Are you still loving it?”
“I am. Can you believe two years have already passed?”
“I know. Time is really flying, and before you know it you’ll be graduating. You still majoring in fashion design?”
“Actually, that’s my minor. My major is marketing.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ve been thinking a lot about going back to school myself.”
Matthew glared at her in shock. He wasn’t sure if this was some sort of façade she was putting on just for Jasmine or if maybe she’d truly had a nervous breakdown this time. He tended to think it was the latter because the one thing he simply couldn’t shake from his mind was the fact that she was totally ignoring MJ. Normally, she never put him down unless he was asleep, which was part of the reason MJ had barely learned to walk. Even now, he was still a little wobbly because Racquel rarely gave him a chance to practice the way he needed to.
Jasmine smiled. “That would be wonderful, Quel. I hope you do.”
“I’m really gonna look into it.”
“Mitchell has one of the best universities in the Midwest.”
“True, but my plan is to still go to MIT. My parents have always said they’d send me, and I’m really thinkin’ about taking them up on their offer.”
Matthew knew he must be dreaming. MIT? She was planning to go all the way to Cambridge, Massachusetts? Had she somehow forgotten she had a son and a husband? Jasmine must have been wondering the same thing because the look on her face screamed disbelief. She was just as confused as Matthew.
But he guessed Jasmine couldn’t help asking her about their son. “So you’re going to leave MJ?”
“Only until I graduate, and I’ll be home during the summers, anyway. I’ll be home for holidays, too. MJ’ll be fine. He has his dad and his grandparents.”
“Oh okay,” was all Jasmine said.
Matthew’s stomach swirled violently. The rest of his body fell numb. Her words sounded too real and like she meant what she was saying. She acted as though her mind was already made up, but what Matthew didn’t understand was where this new attitude of hers was coming from. Just this weekend, they’d argued about her not doing anything around the house and not wanting to go out anywhere, yet now she was ready to pack her bags and take off to the East Coast? Not to mention, for four whole years? As it was, early this morning, she’d e-mailed him that list of things to pick up because she didn’t want to have to leave the apartment. He’d only been at work for his normal eight hours and then gone to the store right after, so he couldn’t imagine what had happened to her mind in such a short period of time. He was afraid for her, but he was more afraid for him and MJ.
“Hey, are you hungry?” Racquel asked Jasmine. She was changing the subject and still acting as though Matthew and MJ weren’t there with them.
“No, I’m good. Maybe we can plan a day to go out to lunch or dinner, though. That’s if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Of course I am. We can go tomorrow if you want. How about Big Italy’s at noon?”
Jasmine paused but then said, “Sounds good.”
They chatted for another twenty minutes or so, and just as Matthew came back from laying MJ in his crib, Jasmine stood up.
“Oh well, I guess I should be going. But I’m so glad I stopped by.”
“Me, too, girl,” Racquel said, hugging her. “It really is good to see you.”
“I’ll call you in the morning,” she said and then looked at Matthew. “See you later, Matt.”
“Take care,” he said, “and thanks.”
Racquel walked her to the door and hugged her again. When Jasmine left, Racquel walked back through the living room, heading to their bedroom. She looked right past Matthew until he stopped her.
“So you’re still not speakin’ to me? You don’t have anything to say?”
“About what, Matt? My decision to go back to school? Well, before you go all ballistic, I may as well tell you: my mind is made up, and I’m not changing it.”
“What about MJ, Racquel? What about me?”
“I really don’t wanna talk about this right now,” she said, turning away from him.
“What’s wrong with you? And when did you decide all this?”
“Didn’t you hear what I just told Jasmine? I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
“So, you’re just gonna leave us? Just like that?”
“Matt, why are you doing this?”
“Because this doesn’t make any sense. And why were you ignoring MJ? Our son was in there crying his little eyes out, and all you were doin’ was sittin’ in our bedroom watching TV?”
“I’m tired! I’m tired of all the crying, all the diaper changing, the feedings, and everything else!” she screamed, walking toward him and stabbing him in his chest with her forefinger. “Do you hear what I’m saying? I’m tired of pretending like I love being a mother when there are days when I wish I’d never had MJ.”
Matthew scrunched his eyebrows. “What are you talking about? Nobody loves being a mother more than you do.”
“Yeah, I know you think that. Everybody does. But when your mother had DCFS take MJ away from me, I was so depressed I felt like I was losing my mind. But then, when I finally got him back, it was never the same. He was never the same. He cried all the time, he was sickly, and the only way I could keep him calm was to hold him all the time and stay at home with him.”
“But you held him all the time before DCFS took him.”
“It was different when I got him back. There was some sort of disconnect, and all this time I’ve never been able to shake it. I’ve tried to have the same bond with him, but I don’t. I do love him, but taking care of him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week is driving me insane. And I can’t do it anymore.”
“But what happened today? Why were you just letting him cry?”
Racquel stared at him. “Matt, I do that all the time. Just not when you’re around to see it. Mostly, when I don’t pick him up, he cries himself to sleep, and I cry right along with him. I leave him in his room, and I stay in mine.”
“Dear God, no. Baby, please tell me you haven’t been treating our son that way.”
“I’m sorry, and I feel awful about it, but this afternoon I decided I couldn’t pretend anymore. Now it’s time I take care of me, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
“This is crazy,” he shouted, storming past her. “As a matter of fact, you’re crazy.”
“Maybe I am, Matt, but I’m still leaving for school in September. I’ll even give you a divorce if you want.”
Matthew stared at her, speechless. She gazed at him, too, but then she finally walked away.
He had a mind to grab his son and leave there for good, but where would he go? His aunt Emma would gladly take him in if he asked her and so would Alicia, but he couldn’t do that. He was too ashamed to let them see how terribly he’d failed as a husband, a father, and also as a person. More important, he truly loved Racquel and didn’t want to lose her. For months, he’d been questioning whether he was still in love with her at all, but now he knew he was. He had realized it the moment she’d offered him a divorce for the second time. She’d done it with ease and with no real emotion, and now he could barely function. He could hardly keep a dry face, but he had to figure out what to do—about Racquel, his marriage, and, of course, his precious little MJ.
Chapter 9
The last thing Dillon ever wanted to do was take advice from the likes of Melissa, but as it had turned out he was preparing to do just that. She’d suggested yesterday that he sit down and talk to his father, so he was now only minutes away from the church. He still didn’t feel as though he should have to tell his father to spend more time with him or that he should acknowledge him as his son a lot more than he had been. But the more he’d sat and wrestled with so many overwhelming thoughts, he hadn’t seen where he had any other options. Maybe speaking with him face-to-face was the only way to get through to him, so Dillon had decided to give it a try.
Dillon drove into the church parking lot and rolled past his father’s black SUV, which was parked in a spot specifically reserved for him, but when he saw Charlotte getting out of her Mercedes, he cringed. That witch now looked him dead in his face, smirking, but she refused to speak to him. It was as if he was a nonentity, and even with no verbal communication, the cunning and very disapproving look she tossed his way said everything.
Dillon got out of his black Cadillac Escalade, the same model his father owned, but as he walked past Charlotte’s vehicle he couldn’t help reading the sign in front of it: RESERVED FOR FIRST LADY BLACK. What a joke. That woman didn’t deserve as much as a cool drink of water on a hot day in the desert, let alone a reserved parking spot. She so had everyone fooled, even her own husband, but not Dillon. He knew her better than she realized, and what he was mostly waiting on was for her to slip up again and hurt his father. Dillon had heard lots of awful stories about her past, and with tramps like Charlotte it was only a matter of time before they slept around again. When she did, Dillon would take full advantage of the situation. He wasn’t sure how exactly, but he knew he’d enjoy her demise.
As Dillon went inside the church, his phone rang. He pulled it out and frowned when he saw that it was Melissa. He couldn’t imagine what she could possibly want, especially since it had been only a half hour since he’d left home. She was so clingy and such a pest sometimes, so he quickly pressed Ignore and kept walking.
“How are you, Miss Lana,” he said when he walked into the administrative offices.
“Hey, Dillon,” she said, smiling brightly. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Just here to see my dad. You?”
“Doing well, so I can’t complain.”
Dillon smiled back at her. Lana had always treated him with the utmost respect, and he’d liked her from the very beginning. Even when none of them had known who he was when he’d first begun attending the church, he could tell how kind Lana was. His father saw her as a mother figure, and Dillon understood why. She was genuine, and she cared about people. She was someone that trick, Charlotte, could learn from.
“Your dad is waiting for you, son, so please go right in.”
“Thanks, Miss Lana.”
Dillon knocked and opened the door almost at the same time.
“Hey son,” Curtis said, smiling, walking toward him and hugging him.
“Hey Dad,” he said, glad that Charlotte wasn’t in there.
“So what’s goin’ on?” he asked, strutting back around his desk and sitting down. “You finally ready to take me up on my offer? Ready to come work for the church?”
>
Dillon hated when he brought this up. He did it all the time, but working here was the last thing Dillon wanted to do. He knew he needed to be diplomatic in his response, though.
Dillon took a seat in front of him. “No…at least not yet, anyway. But if I don’t find something in a couple of months or so, I’ll think more about it.”
“I’m glad, son, because sitting around with no real responsibilities isn’t good. An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.”
Good grief. Why was his dad doing this? Why was he trying to force Dillon to take a job he didn’t want or force him to go work for anyone? It wasn’t like he was broke and unable to pay his bills—his father had seen to that when he’d given him that money—so why couldn’t he let well enough alone and simply let Dillon find his own way? More important, why couldn’t he spend more time focusing on them as father and son versus mentor and mentee? He didn’t need his father’s career advice, what he needed was his love and understanding.
Dillon leaned back in the chair. “I know, and I’ll decide on something soon. What I’d like to do is start my own business.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that either. What kind of business are you considering? Maybe I can help you with that.”
Why wouldn’t he just leave this alone?
“I’ve been playing around with a few ideas, but I haven’t decided on anything.”
“Well, in the meantime, you could also go back to school. We’ve talked about that before, too.”
No, you’ve talked about it. All I’ve done is listen. “Maybe,” Dillon finally said. “We’ll see.”
“At least think about it, son. Nothing would make me happier than to see you enter a reputable university. I wanted the same thing for Matthew and wish he’d stayed at Harvard,” he said in a slightly sad tone. “But enough of that. What did you wanna see me about?”
“Us.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t feel included. After all this time, I still feel like an outsider and like I don’t count.”
Curtis squinted his eyes. “Really? Why?”
The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel) Page 5
