The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel)

by Kimberla Lawson Roby

  “No,” he struggled to say because the last thing Dillon wanted was to spend hours watching his dad having the time of his life with his other children. He’d invited Dillon, but when it was all said and done, Dillon knew he’d be treated like an outsider.

  “Great. I’ll keep you posted on the time, and I can’t wait for you to meet your brother and nephew. I’m sorry it has taken as long as it has, but thank God Matthew is back with us.”

  Dillon thought about telling his dad that he’d finally decided to come work at the church, but he chose to wait for a better time—such as a few days from now when maybe his dad wouldn’t be so ridiculously focused on Matthew’s return. Dillon was only taking this job as a way to carry out his plans of destruction, but he still wanted his dad to be happy about his decision, and he wanted him to be proud.

  After Dillon and Curtis chatted a few minutes longer and ended their call, Carlisle pulled the limo into the driveway. Roger, Dillon’s lawn-care guy, was working away. Normally, he came on Thursdays, so Dillon wondered why he’d come a day early.

  Carlisle got out, opened Dillon’s door, and removed his luggage from the trunk.

  “Hey, Mr. Whitfield. I’m glad you back, but I’m really sorry ’bout your aunt.”

  “I appreciate that, Roger. How come you’re here today?”

  “I need to get some dental work done, and they closed on Wednesdays. So, I figured I would come today instead so I could go to my appointment tomorrow. I cleared it with Miss Melissa, and I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No problem at all.” Dillon had always wondered why he wouldn’t do something about his mouth, because those missing teeth definitely looked awful. Implants were costly, though, so maybe he wasn’t getting those taken care of at all. He was probably getting more teeth pulled or just a filling.

  Roger smiled. “A man just can’t keep runnin’ ’round here like some snaggletoothed first-grader. Not if he wanna catch him a good woman.”

  Carlisle laughed as he carried the luggage up to the front door and Roger laughed even louder, but Dillon was embarrassed for him. Roger was so country and uncultured, but Dillon could tell he didn’t know it.

  Dillon pushed the luggage farther into the entryway and closed the door. He walked through to the kitchen, skimmed through a stack of mail, and then went upstairs. Melissa was in the den, sitting at the computer. She looked up when she heard him walk in, and the first thing Dillon noticed was that her eye had already healed. Either that or she’d covered it with makeup.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  “So how was your flight?”

  “Okay. So did you hire an investigator?”

  “Yeah, he started yesterday. So far, he hasn’t found anything we don’t already know about, though.”

  “He will, so just tell him to keep searching. I also want him to follow her if he has to.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  “You can do that later,” he said, moving closer to her, but she stared at the monitor.

  “It’s been almost a whole week.”

  Melissa didn’t move or say anything, but Dillon forced himself to stay calm.

  “I’m asking you nicely,” he said. “I always try to ask you nicely, but when you don’t do what I tell you, Melissa, it makes me angry. Now, take care of me the way I like it. Or else.”

  Chapter 31

  Four. That was the number of days Matthew had been back home, and he couldn’t be happier. He hadn’t been this content in months. More than anything, though, MJ was safe, and Matthew didn’t have to worry about what Racquel might do to either of them. She’d only been out on bail for two days, but she’d called him at least twenty times. Whenever the phone rang, Matthew checked to see who it was and then hit the Ignore button. He hadn’t seen where they had anything to talk about, and he certainly didn’t want to discuss their getting back together, because he didn’t want that. He also didn’t want his mother-in-law pressuring him about signing any documents. For whatever reason, his father-in-law hadn’t tried to contact him, and Matthew was relieved.

  “I’m so glad you’re home, Matt,” Curtina said, sitting next to him in the family room and leaning her head against his arm. She also played with MJ, who was sitting on Matthew’s lap. “Hi, MJ,” she said, touching her nose to his, and he giggled.

  MJ was only one, but he and his six-year-old auntie had taken a huge liking to each other, and that made Matthew smile. Curtina had always been fond of MJ, ever since he’d been born—she’d sometimes played with him over at Aunt Emma’s when she spent the night there—but now that the two of them were able to see each other daily, they’d bonded even more.

  Charlotte and Curtis walked into the room and sat down on the loveseat.

  “So what’s on, son?” Curtis asked.

  Matthew picked up the remote control. “Playoffs are starting in a few minutes.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Charlotte pulled her feet onto the loveseat. “The pizza should be here soon. I ordered enough for Jonathan and Elijah, too. Didn’t you say they were coming by?”

  “Yep,” he said, smiling because it truly did feel like old times. Most of his life, his parents had ordered pizza at least once every week because they knew how much he liked it. They also did it because Curtina loved it as well. He was sure they’d love to have something different, but they never complained. They did what they thought would make their children happy. This was the kind of parent Matthew wanted to be to MJ. His parents had made a lot of mistakes and caused him a lot of pain, but they’d also made Matthew a priority on many occasions. They’d made sacrifices pretty regularly, and he was thankful.

  Matthew’s phone rang, and although he didn’t answer it, he stood up. “Mom, can you take MJ?”

  “Of course. You bring my little sweetheart right on over here.”

  Matthew passed him to her and went upstairs to his bedroom. He dialed Stacey back as fast as he could.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t answer.”

  “No problem. Whatchu doin’?”

  “Watchin’ the game with my parents. My boys are comin’ by, too.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “What about you?”

  “Just sitting here, doin’ nothin’,” she said.

  “I wish you could come over here, but…”

  “I know. So have you heard from Racquel again?”

  “Yeah, but I never answer. Hopefully, she’ll just give up.”

  “But what if she doesn’t? Because it sounds to me like she really wants to get back together.”

  “Maybe, but only because she wants me to help make her case go away. Nobody changes overnight the way she has. Last week she hated me, and now this week she loves me and wants us to stay married? I don’t think so.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m really getting a divorce.”

  “Are you doing it soon?”

  “That’s the plan. I have a doctor’s appointment early next week to get my stitches out, so once I go back to work, I’ll get it taken care of.”

  “How do your parents feel about it?”

  “They support me a hundred percent.”

  “Well that’s good at least.”

  “My mom never liked Racquel, anyway. She never wanted me to marry her.”

  “Well, if you and I end up together, I hope she likes me!”

  Matthew laughed. “Do you mean that?”

  “What?”

  “That you wanna be together.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I do, but it’s like I told you before. You’re still in college, and I have a son.”

  “And it’s like I told you, I know all that.”

  “Yeah, but how will your mom and dad feel about it?”

  “They’ll be fine.”

  “Somehow I don’t think so. Dating someone who’s divorced is one thing, but a teenage father?”

  “Well it’s not l
ike you’re a teenager anymore. And anyway, you let me worry about them.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “So when can I see you?” she asked.

  “Maybe this weekend.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, hey,” he said, “that’s the doorbell, so I’d better get going.”

  “Call me before you go to bed?”

  “I will. Later.”

  Matthew headed back downstairs, but the faster he walked the more nervous he got. Was that Racquel he heard?

  When he landed at the bottom of the stairs, he rushed toward the front door. He saw his dad barricading it with his arms.

  Matthew frowned. “Girl, what are you doin’ here?”

  “I came to get my son, and I’m not leaving here without him,” she said, barely able to stand up.

  “You’re drunk, Racquel,” Matthew said.

  “Mom, take MJ upstairs.”

  Racquel pushed against Curtis’s chest with both hands, screaming, “Don’t you take my son anywhere, you crazy lunatic! Please move, Pastor Black. I’m not leaving here until I get my son.”

  Matthew dialed his father-in-law, hoping he didn’t have a late surgery.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “Dr. Anderson, can you please come and get Racquel? She’s over here trying to force her way in. And she’s drunk.”

  “What? Oh my God. I’m only a few miles away. I’ll be right there.”

  Matt set his phone on the table.

  “I hate you, Matt!” she spat, still trying to push Curtis out of the way. “I hate you, and I should have stabbed you until I got tired.”

  Curtis grabbed both her arms. “Look, that’s enough, Racquel. Either you settle down, or we’re calling the police. This is ridiculous.”

  “No, your wife is the one who’s ridiculous. She’s the one who messed up everything. She ruined all of us, and now I’m the one who has to stand trial. I’m the one who might go to jail.”

  Matthew stared at her and shook his head.

  “Why are you doing this, Matt?” she said, now crying. “Why won’t you let me see my son? Why won’t you give me another chance?”

  Matthew still didn’t say anything. He just stood there trying to figure out what was wrong with her. He was angry with her for drinking the way she was and causing all this trouble, but he also felt sorry for her. She was truly messed up emotionally, and if she didn’t get help soon, he wasn’t sure what would happen to her. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why his in-laws hadn’t told the judge about her history so he could order that she be admitted to a treatment facility. Why wouldn’t they want their own daughter to get help? It didn’t make any sense, especially since Dr. Anderson was a physician.

  Finally, Racquel dropped down on the front step, weeping loudly. But then Matthew’s phone rang. It was his mother-in-law.

  “Hello?”

  “Matt, I am so sorry,” Vanessa said. “Neil just called me, and I’m on my way, too. I thought she was still upstairs. I laid down to take a nap, and I guess she snuck out. And Neil said she was drunk?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t know what to say, but I promise you this won’t happen again.”

  Matthew would believe that when he saw it. Racquel was a loose cannon, and if her parents didn’t do something soon, either she or someone else would end up dead. He also had to rethink his decision about waiting to divorce her, because now she was demanding to see MJ—and she was doing it while she was drunk. He didn’t want to take MJ away from Racquel, at least not legally, anyway, but he would do it if he had to. If she forced him, he would file for full custody and she would never see MJ again. He would do everything he could to make sure of it.

  Chapter 32

  It was Memorial Day, and although he and Melissa had just arrived at his dad’s, Dillon already dreaded being there. He wasn’t sure if it was simply because he didn’t care for most of the people he knew he was about to see or if it was because his no-good sister Alicia had been the one to answer the door.

  “I’m so glad you guys could make it,” she beamed, all while decked out in what looked to be an overly expensive pure white maxi dress. “Everyone’s out on the patio, so just follow me.”

  Alicia acted as though she lived there and as though Dillon and Melissa were nothing more than outside guests. It was true that they were in fact visitors, but Alicia treated them as though they weren’t even family. She spoke to them as if they were no different than church members or friends, and this made Dillon want to light into her.

  Ever since meeting her, Dillon had tried tolerating Alicia as much as he could, mostly for his father’s sake, but he was getting to the point where he couldn’t stand the sight of her. He wished he could feel differently, but he couldn’t. He was the eldest child and not her, and it was time he did whatever he needed to do to make everyone realize it.

  Dillon and Melissa followed Alicia down the shiny marble hallway, through the family room, and out to the elegant, spacious patio. Everyone who’d been invited was there: Phillip; Charlotte’s parents; Charlotte’s aunt Emma; and her daughter, Anise; and, of course, Matthew and his son, little MJ. And who could forget that tiny brat Curtina? Curtis had told Dillon that today’s gathering would include only family, but his dad’s assistant, Miss Lana, and Elder Dixon were there as well. Dillon liked Miss Lana, though, so he was actually glad to see her, but he could certainly do without Elder Dixon. Dillon didn’t care much for the elder, mainly because he was about as country as Roger and he also didn’t have any tact. The only reason Dillon pretended to like him was because his father seemed to love and respect him to the utmost. Curtis saw him as the father he didn’t have, so Dillon went along with it. Actually, it wasn’t much of a problem, anyway, as long as Elder Dixon continued to mind his own business and stay out of his way.

  “Hey son,” Curtis said, smiling and walking in their direction.

  Dillon forced a smile back but didn’t say anything. He was also glad he still had on his sunglasses because he didn’t want his dad to see his true feelings.

  “Glad you both made it,” Curtis said, hugging him and Melissa.

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Melissa said.

  “Of course.”

  Dillon tried to stay focused on his dad and what he was saying, but he couldn’t help noticing how all the other adults were outrageously obsessed with little MJ, and Dillon could barely stomach it. Here it was, he’d already had to spend the last few days plotting and trying to figure out exactly how he was going to drive a new wedge between Matthew and Curtis, not to mention how he was going to end his dad’s marriage to that trifling Charlotte, yet now he had this awful baby to contend with. Everyone acted as though MJ were the most precious thing in the universe, and needless to say, all this did was provide Curtis with a whole other reason to push Dillon to the side. First it had been his dad’s children, but now there was this grandson of his to compete with.

  “Are you okay?” Curtis asked him.

  “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just hungry.”

  Curtis laughed. “So am I. But before we eat, I want you to meet your brother.”

  Dillon stared at his dad, trying to mask his rage. Why couldn’t his dad do him a favor and leave things as is? Until now, Dillon had never met Matthew, and Dillon was fine with that.

  “Hey son,” Curtis yelled out to Matthew. “Come here for a minute.”

  Matthew set his bottle of water down and walked over.

  “Son, this is Dillon…Dillon, this is Matthew.”

  “How’s it goin’?” Matthew said, reaching his hand out.

  Dillon grabbed it and forced another smile on his face. “Good, and it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “And you must be Melissa,” Matthew said.

  “Yes,” she answered, cheesing like a Cheshire cat, and Dillon wanted to slap that smile of hers across the patio. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Curtis sighed loudly with t
otal pride and placed his arms around both his boys. “Now, this is the kind of thing that really makes me happy. Both my sons together for the first time. Talk about a huge blessing this is.”

  Curtis went on and on about how happy he was, but the atmosphere couldn’t have been more awkward. It was clear that neither Dillon nor Matthew had anything to say, and actually, Matthew kept looking over at the rest of the family, where everyone was still making a big deal over MJ. Finally, though, Curtis decided it was time to eat. Before he did, however, everyone else spoke to Melissa and Dillon—that is, all except Charlotte, who graciously spoke to Melissa but pretended she didn’t see Dillon. This was just one more reason Dillon couldn’t wait to annihilate her.

  When Curtis finished saying grace, everyone filed together in a single line, leading toward the food tables, and although Dillon truly didn’t want to be there, he couldn’t deny how awesome everything looked. He’d heard a lot about Aunt Emma and her cooking, and just based on the way she kept positioning and repositioning all the dishes and making sure nothing was missing, he could tell she’d likely prepared the entire meal, and it smelled heavenly. Barbeque ribs, chicken, bratwurst, macaroni and cheese, seven-layer salad, potato salad, cole slaw, and baked beans. Then there were so many desserts to choose from, he wasn’t sure which he’d have first. This entire layout sort of reminded him of all the many holidays he’d spent with Aunt Susan. She’d never had to prepare as much food as this, but she’d still fixed most of the same items, and Dillon remembered how he would eat and eat and eat until he made himself sick. Aunt Susan was a down home, Southern cook, and he’d never eaten anyone else’s food that tasted better. Boy did he miss her, and it was all he could do not to slip into some dreadful state of depression. He would never let these people see him that way, though.

  Dillon filled his plate with everything he could, but just as he turned to look for his father, his heart dropped. The round table Curtis was sitting at was already full. Charlotte, Matthew, Alicia, and Phillip had plopped down around him, and they’d even pulled MJ’s high chair into the mix. At the other table sat Charlotte’s parents, her aunt Emma, her cousin Anise, and Curtina. Not one person in his family had offered him a seat, clearly not wanting to be bothered, and it took everything in him not to make a scene.