Better Late Than Never Read online

  “She’s definitely the best, Dad. A great wife and a great mom for MJ.”

  “That she is.”

  There was a slight pause and then Matthew said, “So, I hate to change the subject, but Alicia told me about Aunt Trina and how sick she is.”

  “I meant to call you yesterday, but by the time I got home and had to deal with that baby sister of yours, the evening got away from me.”

  “What’s going on with Curtina?”

  “You name it, she’s doing it. She’s so rude and hard to deal with. And she thinks she’s grown and on her own.”

  “Wow, Dad. That’s too bad, and maybe I should talk to her.”

  “I think you should. Because she’s certainly not listening to me or your mom. She’s angry all the time about nothing.”

  “Then I’ll just plan on coming by there tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Okay, Dad, well, I’d better get back to work, but Aunt Trina is in my prayers, and please tell her that Stacey, MJ, and I will try to get over to see her very soon.”

  “I will, and you have a good day.”

  “You too. Love you.”

  “I love you, too, son.”

  Curtis relaxed further into his office chair, and Miss Lana took a seat in front of his desk. A few minutes ago, she’d called to see if he had some time to review his schedule for the next month.

  “So how is Trina doing?” she asked.

  “About the same. Although, she did seem a bit weaker yesterday than she did on Sunday. But it’s like I was telling Charlotte earlier, I’m sure some days will be worse than others.”

  “Well, I have already been praying for her, her husband, their children, and you, and I’ll continue.”

  “I really appreciate that, Miss Lana, because Trina’s illness has really knocked the wind out of me. I never saw it coming, and the amount of guilt I’m feeling is sometimes too much. You know my whole story when it comes to my family and why I walked away from them, but now I’m losing sleep over it again. I’d somehow tried to come to terms with it, but I just keep thinking what if. What if I’d handled things differently? What if I’d realized a long time ago that no amount of hurt or animosity should ever be enough to end your relationship with your own mother? The woman who gave birth to you. Or to completely cut off your only sibling.”

  “I hear you, Pastor, and I understand how you feel, but it’s too late to change any of that. I wish you could, but you and I both know you can’t. And as painful as that particular truth must be, you have to focus on the present. You have to leave the past in the past and keep your mind on the time you have with your sister now.”

  “I know. That’s the same advice I give hundreds of members all the time throughout any given year when I’m counseling them. But it’s a lot harder to do when…well, when it’s you.”

  “You’ll get through this, though. You just stay prayerful and trust God to give you the peace you need.”

  “I will, and thank you for listening. And for always being like a mother to me. After all these years.”

  “You know how I feel about you and your family.”

  Curtis smiled with tears in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. “So, what’s the deal with my calendar?”

  Lana passed him a copy of it and kept another for herself. “You have a lot of speaking engagements next month, both at churches and conferences.”

  Curtis sighed. “And they couldn’t be coming at a more inopportune time.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. Over the last three months, you haven’t traveled more than once or twice, but April is pretty full.”

  “Well, unfortunately, I’m going to have to cancel all of them. So can you call each contact person to let them know?”

  “Of course.”

  “Please apologize for me and let everyone know that my sister isn’t doing very well.”

  Lana nodded. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll get it all taken care of.”

  “Plus, to be honest, even if Trina hadn’t become ill, I still would have needed to reschedule a few events.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Curtina is very much not herself right now. She’s unruly, she pouts about everything, and yesterday she left the house without permission.”

  “To go where?”

  “She says down to the convenience store, but she doesn’t usually go places without us knowing about it.”

  “Mm-mm-mm. Sad to say, but this is pretty much the norm with a lot of these kids today.”

  “Yeah, I know, but no matter how many times you hear about it, you never expect to have to experience it yourself.”

  “No, definitely not, and I hope that whatever little Miss Curtina is going through will pass soon. You and Charlotte have raised her to know and honor God, and you’ve taught her right from wrong, so I’m sure she’ll come around.”

  Curtis leaned forward, resting his hands on his desk. “I hope so.”

  “Okay, well,” Lana said, standing up, “if that’s all, I need to get busy with making all these phone calls.”

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “Anytime,” she said, and left. But right after she closed the door behind her, Dillon walked in.

  “Hey, Dad, how’s it going?”

  “Hey, son. I’m hanging in there. Have a seat.”

  Dillon sat in the same chair Lana had. “I know this is a hard time for you, so let me know if there’s anything I can do. Either here at the church or wherever you need me.”

  Curtis smiled at his son, his firstborn child, and was grateful to have him in his life. While Curtis had been driving home from Trina’s yesterday, Dillon had called him about church business, and this was when Curtis had briefly told him about his aunt. But what made Curtis smile was how concerned his son had sounded on the phone then and how sincere he was being now. And just watching him warmed Curtis’s heart, because only two years before, they’d had one of the worst father-son relationships ever. They’d been cordial at best, and sometimes that hadn’t even been the case. Yet now, they’d forgiven each other, and life was good between them.

  “I appreciate that, son, and I’ll probably have to take you up on your offer, as I do plan to spend as much time as I can over in Chicago with Trina.”

  “I’m so sorry about what she’s going through.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Well, I’ll do what I can, and Dad…I won’t let you down. I know I have in the past, and that I did a lot of dirty stuff. To you and Matthew, but I’m not like that anymore. Partly because I lost everything. Including my wife and my church. And partly because Porsha has helped make me a better man. She’s made me see how great life can be if you just do the right thing.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that, son, but let me say something to you. Number one: When it comes to the strain in our relationship, I wasn’t completely innocent myself. And number two: You don’t have to spend the rest of your life telling me that I can trust you. It’s easy for anyone to say what he or she will or won’t do, but what matters to me is that for two whole years, you’ve shown me that I really can trust you. That you have my back, and that you want to be a good person.”

  “I do, and while I’m not trying to make excuses, all I wanted was to be close to you. I wanted us to have the same kind of relationship that you have with Alicia, Matthew, and Curtina. I know now that I was wrong for trying to compare myself to them, but that’s exactly what I did, and I was really lost.”

  “Yeah, but now you’re found,” Curtis said.

  “Exactly,” Dillon said, laughing.

  Curtis laughed with him. “And you have a good woman in your life.”

  “I do, Dad. After that whole Raven fiasco, she was almost done with me. But thank God, she decided to give me another chance.”

  Curtis thought about the way Dillon and Porsha had first begun seeing each other—how they’d had an affair behind Raven’s back. How Porsha had made a point
to tell Raven everything, and how she and Raven had started a successful ministry together—for all the wrong reasons. But then, as anyone should have expected, that highly unlikely friendship had ended in mass destruction. Still, Porsha had repented and come clean about all her wrongdoing, and Curtis could tell she was a genuine person with a good heart. She showed every bit of that to be true, both as Dillon’s girlfriend and as the director of women’s ministry at New Vision Christian Center, the church she and Raven had founded.

  “God is good, son, and you just keep treating her like the wonderful woman of God she is.”

  “I plan to. Always.”

  “That sounds pretty permanent. So do I hear a proposal coming in the future?”

  “Yes, but not for another few months. Not until she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that I really do love her, and that she can trust me to do what I say I’m going to do. She says she does, but I want her to know that I’m not playing games or just pretending to be a better person.”

  “I understand, and good for you.”

  Curtis and Dillon chatted a bit more, and then Dillon left to go prepare for a meeting they both had with several staff members that afternoon. Dillon was Deliverance Outreach’s VP of broadcasting, and to say he was doing an amazing job would be an understatement. Curtis was hoping that Alicia would take a position at the church, too, but for now, he knew she wanted to focus on writing, and he respected that.

  Curtis thought about Trina and called her.

  “So how are you feeling this morning?” he asked.

  “A little tired, but I’m good. What about you? How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Just trying to get some work done here at the church, but now I wish I’d come to see you.”

  “No, you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. You already drove over here two days in a row, and all I’m planning to do today is get some rest. Plus, Denise is taking very good care of me.”

  “I’m sure she is, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good. But only if you don’t have anything else you need to be doing. I know the kind of responsibility you must have running such a large ministry, and I’ll totally understand if you can’t.”

  “Like I said, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I love you, big brother.”

  “I love you, too, sis.”

  “See you soon.”

  Curtis set his phone on his desk and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. He wasn’t sure why, but at this very moment, thinking about how weak his sister had just sounded on the phone reminded him of the time his mom had been ill and bedridden for more than a week.

  “How long is your sorry behind going to lie up in that bed?” Thomas yelled at his wife.

  Trina hurried into Curtis’s room, horrified, and sat next to him on his bed.

  The door to their parents’ bedroom was closed, courtesy of their dad slamming it shut, but Curtis and Trina could still hear every word they spoke.

  “Now get up and make me some dinner, woman. And I mean get up now!”

  “Thomas, I’m sick,” they heard Pauline say almost in a whisper. “I’ve got a bad flu, but I know I’ll be better tomorrow. And I’ll make you a nice breakfast in the morning.”

  Curtis wondered how she was going to do that. How she was going to cook anything when all he’d seen an hour ago was a quarter loaf of bread on the counter, some peanut butter in the cupboard, and a half jar of grape jelly in the refrigerator. There wasn’t even a can of broth or tomato soup to be found. And they certainly didn’t have any meat, not even those canned Vienna wieners they were sometimes lucky enough to have.

  “You haven’t cooked anything in two days! Two whole days! Now, I want you to get up and fix me something to eat.”

  Pauline burst into tears, and so did Trina. Curtis pulled Trina into his arms, trying to be strong for his sister, but it was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to cry like a baby.

  “You’re about as worthless as some of those whores on the street,” Thomas ranted. “You know that? And not only aren’t you doing anything around here, you’ve missed two days of work.”

  “Thomas, please try to understand.”

  “I do understand,” he said, hitting the wall so hard with his fist, it shook. “What I understand is that I should’ve married a real woman when I had the chance. I never should’ve let my mama and daddy talk me into marrying somebody like you. You’re ugly, dumb, and useless, and I deserve better.”

  “Thomas, please don’t,” Pauline begged him. “The kids can hear you.”

  “Do I look like I care about that? Well, I don’t, and I will always hate you for getting knocked up with that little idiot, Curtis. And for tying me down the way you did. Then you had that little heifer, Trina, when I told you I didn’t want another kid. I had so many big plans and dreams, and you ruined all of it. My uncle was going to get me on at the aerospace company he works for in California, but you snatched all of that away. I had my whole life ahead of me, but because you schemed and trapped me, I haven’t been able to do a single thing worth talking about. And just look at this dump that we can barely afford. I can’t enjoy my life even a little. And now you’re lying up in some bed pretending to be sick.”

  “I’m sorry I’m sick, Thomas. But I know my fever will be gone tomorrow. You’ll see.”

  “It better be or else.”

  Curtis didn’t hear any more conversation and prayed his dad was preparing to leave the house.

  But then he heard him speak again.

  “You know what? I wish you would just die. Because at least then I’d be able to collect on that life insurance policy we have on you. And I’d also be free to get me a woman I really want. A fine, classy woman who knows how to treat a man. A woman much better than you and better than that little heifer, Trina, will ever be when she finally grows up.”

  Trina cried harder, and Curtis took her hand and placed it over her mouth so their father wouldn’t hear her.

  “Don’t cry, T,” he whispered, and pulled her even closer to him. “Please don’t cry. He’ll be gone soon,” Curtis said as tears fell down his own cheeks.

  Then they heard their parents’ bedroom door opening, and Curtis squeezed his eyes shut, praying that their father wouldn’t bother them. Please, God, don’t let him come in here. Please, God, let him leave and be gone for the rest of the night. Please, God.

  Curtis silently prayed again, and in seconds, they heard the front door opening and their father leaving. Curtis finally breathed normally, and both he and Trina rushed out of Curtis’s room and into their mom’s. She was crying, but gazed at both of them and said, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Trina leaned down and hugged their mom, weeping loudly, but Curtis just stood there, wondering why his mom wouldn’t stand up for herself. Why she wouldn’t pack them up and take them far away from this mini-penitentiary. Because what reason did she have to stay? His father never brought his money home, anyway. Not a single dime Curtis could think of. So it wasn’t like they needed him for anything.

  But instead of asking his mom why she wouldn’t leave his dad, Curtis watched her with a blank stare on his face. He stood in his parents’ room hurting from the bottom of his soul—worse than ever before—because now he knew the truth. His father truly did hate him and wished he’d never been born—just as he’d been saying to Curtis all along. He wholeheartedly believed that Curtis was the reason he was stuck in a loveless marriage that he didn’t want to be in. He believed that Curtis had destroyed all his dreams.

  But what his father didn’t know was that the feeling was mutual, because Curtis was just as unhappy as he was. He was miserable, and he wished his mother had gotten pregnant by someone else. Any man at all would have worked, just so long as it hadn’t been Thomas Black. But that was okay, because all Curtis had to do was bide his time. Hang in there for another five years and make his escape. Hold on until he turned eighteen and could leave this awful place fo
r good.

  Chapter 11

  Two. That was the number of times Curtis had asked Charlotte if she was “okay.” First yesterday, and then again, this morning. Was her drinking that noticeable to him? Had it been noticeable to others in the restaurant? If so, she would definitely need to be more careful. Maybe it would be better if she drank only one glass every now and then. That way she would never have to worry about overdoing it. She wasn’t an alcoholic, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she couldn’t deny that she did sometimes become a little tipsy when she had two or three drinks in one sitting. Especially, if she hadn’t drunk liquor of any kind in a good while. That was normal for anyone, though. Wasn’t it?

  Agnes was downstairs fixing dinner and watching her afternoon talk shows, so Charlotte walked over to her bedroom door and closed it. So much was going on, and the only other person besides Janine who she could speak to openly was her mom.

  Charlotte sat in her bed, picked up the cordless phone on her nightstand, and drew her knees into her chest. Then she muted the television, which was turned to the Hallmark Channel, and called her mother.

  When it rang four times, Charlotte wondered if maybe she was busy.

  But then Noreen answered. “Hey, sweetheart.”

  “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

  “I’m good, and you?”

  “I’m okay. How’s Dad?”

  “He’s fine, too.”

  “So what are you doing today?”

  “Not a lot,” Noreen told her. “Your dad is on his way back from his quarterly men’s retirement luncheon, and I was just sitting here reading a couple of magazines.”

  “I’m really glad Dad likes going to those. I’m glad he stays in contact with the guys he used to work with.”