Mama's Boy Read online

  ReSHONDA TATE BILLINGSLEY

  Her bestselling novels of family and faith have been hailed as

  “Emotionally charged . . . not easily forgotten.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Steamy, sassy, sexy.”

  —Ebony

  “Compelling, heartfelt.”

  —Booklist

  “Full of palpable joy, grief, and soulful characters.”

  —The Jacksonville Free Press

  “Poignant and captivating, humorous and heart-wrenching.”

  —The Mississippi Link

  Don’t miss these wonderful novels

  WHAT’S DONE IN THE DARK

  “An entertaining book with suspense, drama, and a little humor. . . . The twists and turns will have readers rushing to turn the pages.”

  —Authors & Readers Book Corner

  THE SECRET SHE KEPT

  “Entertaining and riveting. . . . Heartfelt and realistic. . . . A must-read.”

  —AAM Book Club

  SAY AMEN, AGAIN

  Winner of the NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Literary Work

  “Heartfelt. . . . A fast-paced story filled with vivid characters.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  EVERYBODY SAY AMEN

  A USA Today Top Ten Summer Sizzler!

  “A fun, redemptive book, packed with colorful characters, drama, and scandal.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  A BET original movie!

  LET THE CHURCH SAY AMEN

  #1 Essence magazine bestseller

  One of Library Journal’s Best Christian Books

  “Billingsley infuses her text with just the right dose of humor to balance the novel’s serious events.

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  “Amen to Let the Church Say Amen. . . . [A] well-written novel.”

  —Indianapolis Recorder

  “Her community of very human saints will win readers over with their humor and verve.”

  —Booklist

  A GOOD MAN IS HARD TO FIND

  “Billingsley’s engaging voice will keep readers turning the pages and savoring each scandalous revelation.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  HOLY ROLLERS

  “Sensational. . . . [Billingsley] makes you fall in love with these characters.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  THE DEVIL IS A LIE

  “An entertaining dramedy.”

  —Ebony

  “A romantic page-turner dipped in heavenly goodness.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ stars)

  “Fast moving and hilarious.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  CAN I GET A WITNESS?

  A USA Today 2007 Summer Sizzler

  “An emotional ride.”

  —Ebony

  “Billingsley serves up a humdinger of a plot.”

  —Essence

  THE PASTOR’S WIFE

  “Billingsley has done it again. . . . A true page turner.”

  —Urban Reviews

  I KNOW I’VE BEEN CHANGED

  #1 Dallas Morning News bestseller

  “Grabs you from the first page and never lets go. . . . Bravo!”

  —Victoria Christopher Murray

  “An excellent novel with a moral lesson to boot.”

  —Zane, New York Times bestselling author

  Thank you for downloading this Gallery Books eBook.

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  A Note from the Author

  As a journalist, I have come across an array of stories in my twenty-five-plus years in the industry. Some of them have provided fodder for just plain ol’ good drama. Many of them—no, most of them—have sparked that little “What if ?” lightbulb in my head. This book was born from one of those “What ifs?”

  I’m always posing questions to my readers on social media and as I travel: What if you won the lottery and your ex-husband came back and said your divorce was never finalized and he and the woman he left you for want half ? (The Devil Is a Lie); What if you have a one-night stand with your best friend’s husband and he dies in the hotel room? (What’s Done in the Dark); What if your son commits a crime, can you turn him in? I’d like to think that as a law-abiding citizen, that answer would be a resounding yes. But as a mother, that answer isn’t so black and white, especially if you throw in something that has been dominating the news: race and law enforcement. I don’t know about you, but for me, that changes the dynamics. And that’s where Mama’s Boy was born.

  I hope you will enjoy the story, even if you don’t agree with all the characters’ decisions (hey, what kind of writer would I be if you liked everything?).

  Now, on to the acknowledgments.

  Of course, I give all thanks to God, who blessed me with this gift of writing and is allowing me to live my dreams.

  I wouldn’t have been able to do this book (like all the others) without a phenomenal support system. These are people who pushed me, who motivated me, inspired me, and cheered from the sidelines. So as redundant as this may sound, I must do it again . . . My husband, Dr. Miron Billingsley, who has been my biggest cheerleader and continues to give me advice, even though he swears I never listen to any of it. My children, who just aren’t that impressed with what I do (until, of course, their friends talk about how cool it is). Thank you for your love, patience, and understanding. A special thanks to my middle child, Morgan, who has become my personal literary assistant (not to mention an author in her own right). Mya and Myles, you know I love you to the moon and back . . . but when there’s work to be done, y’all know you disappear.

  Big ups to my sister, who gave up her personal assistant job on book number three, something about “not working for free” and “needing compensation,” yada, yada. But thank you for your ongoing support and for stepping up to the plate to care for Mama and carrying the load alone when I’m on the road.

  To my business partner, writing twin, and just all around great friend, Victoria Christopher Murray. You are the ying to my yang and I could fill the pages thanking you for all you do—especially on this book. I’m grateful to have you as a friend.

  To my ride-or-die, Pat Tucker, thank you for your years of friendship and for navigating these literary waters with me. To my other literary friends: Nina Foxx, Eric Jerome Dickey, Kimberla Lawson Roby, Lolita Files, Tiffany Warren, Rhonda Mc­Knight, Booker T. Mattison, Brian Egeston, JE Jones, Tamika Newhouse, Renee Flagler, and Lutishia Lovely . . . thanks for your words of encouragement, support, and for just putting a smile on my face.

  To my BGB admin family: Jason, Princess, Pam, Jessica, Kimyatta, Lasheera, Yolanda, Sheretta, and Raine . . . thank you so much for all that you do. To our amazing author partners: I’m so honored to be affiliated with you! We’re truly changing the game!

  I must give lots of love to my girls, who keep me grounded, who support me, and have my back no matter what: Jaimi, Raquelle, Clemelia, and Kim, love you for life. Special thanks to my Delta Xi sorors who love me from afar.

  Huge bouquet of thanks to my agent from the very beginning, Sara Camilli, my awesome workaholic editor, Brigitte Smith, my publicist, Melissa Gramstad (“amazing” is an understatement to describe you), and the rest of my family at Gallery, thank yo
u for believing in me!

  To my right hand, my assistant, Sheretta, you have no idea how much better you’ve made my professional life. Thank you! To assistant extraordinaire, Yolanda Gore, you know how awesome you are, but please allow me to tell you once again! Gina Johnson, thanks for your assistance in bringing this book to fruition.

  My journey to bring Let the Church Say Amen to the screen has been a verrrrryyy long (and often frustrating) one. Thank you so much to Regina King and Reina King for never giving up. To Queen Latifah’s Flava Unit, BET, Bobcat Films, and all the talented actors and crew, thank you for helping this li’l author realize a big dream.

  I’m always skeptical about this next part as I know there are so many book clubs that support me and I hate leaving folks out. But again, it’s just too hard not to take a moment and say thanks. This time around, thanks goes to Sistahs in Conversation and Sistahs in Harmony, Arnesha SoFly Foucha, Cover 2 Cover, Savvy, Nubian Pageturners, Cush City, Black Pearls Keepin It Real, Mahogany, Women of Substance, My Sisters & Me, Pages Between Sistahs, Shared Thoughts, Brag about Books, Mocha Readers, Characters, Christian Fiction Café, Sisters Who Like to Read, Readers of Delight, Tabahani Book Circle, FB Page Turners, African-American Women’s Book Club, Women of Color, Zion M.B.C. Women’s Book Club, Jus’Us, Go On Girl Texas 1, Book Club Etc., Pearls of Wisdom, Alpha Kappa Omega Book Club, Lady Lotus, Soulful Readers of Detroit, Brownstone, and First Baptist Church—Agape Book Ministry (please know that if you’re not here, it doesn’t diminish my gratitude).

  Thank you to all the wonderful libraries that have supported my books, introduced me to readers, and fought to get my books on the shelves. Thank you also to Yasmin Coleman, Orsayor Simmons, Ed Jones, Hiawatha Henry, King Brooks, Curtis Bunn, Troy Johnson, and Gwen Richardson.

  To all my wonderful Social Media Friends, especially the ones who help me spread the word about my work and comment regularly . . . Tonia, Heather, Gloria, Pam, Tracy, Nelvia, Phyllis, Erika, Leslie, Ashara, Nita, Jetola, Cassandra, Renee, Michelle, Kathy, Jackie, Lisa, Carla, Kendria, Denise, Ina, Sharon, Neuropath, Monique, Chevonne, Dasaya, Lilo, Gina, Raquel, ­Felicia, ­Crystal, Makasha, Loureva, Victoria, Jewel, Folake, Maleika, Cebrina, Lolita, Tyra, Cindy, Joanna, Maurice, Cecelia, Deborah, Lachelle, Vonda, Paula, Tamara, Martha, and Sophie (yes, I could go on . . . but I guess I should wrap it up). Just know that I’m grateful to all of you who have supported and sent encouraging words.

  Lots of love and gratitude to my sorors of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc. (including my own chapter, Mu Kappa Omega), my sisters in Greekdom, Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., who CONSTANTLY show me love . . . and my fellow mothers in Jack and Jill of America (particularly, the Missouri City/Sugar Land chapter).

  And finally, thanks to you . . . my beloved readers. If it’s your first time picking up one of my books, I truly hope you enjoy. If you’re coming back, words cannot even begin to express how eternally grateful I am for your support. Thank you. I will continue saying it . . . I am where I am because of you.

  Much love,

  ReShonda

  1

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  This had to be what death felt like. What it meant to have the Grim Reaper sneak up on you, wrap his claws around your heart, and squeeze. That’s what Gloria Jones felt right now. Her heart tightened, her breath slowed, and Gloria wondered how it was that she hadn’t passed out. All because of the story that she’d just seen on the news.

  “Again, we want to warn you that this video is disturbing,” the red-haired female anchor from Channel 12 News said. “Police have released this footage in hopes that someone can identify the suspect or the other two boys in the video.”

  The video that had initially stopped Gloria in her tracks during the news introduction began playing again.

  “Are you recording me?” the police officer in the video yelled.

  “Yep. I know my rights. I’m not violating any laws. I have a right to film. As long as I’m not interfering in your arrest, I have a legal right to film,” the young boy replied as he turned the camera on himself. It was dark and the picture was grainy, but he was clearly recognizable. And even if he wasn’t, the tiny cross tattoo on his neck was a dead giveaway. “You see how they treat us? If you’re young and black in America, you’re guilty until proven innocent.”

  The boy turned the camera lens back on the officer, who was stomping toward him. The officer’s hand went up to block the camera shot.

  “I said, get that camera off me.”

  Before Jamal could respond the officer raced over and knocked the phone out of his hand. The phone tumbled into the grass.

  It looked like the boy was pushed, because the camera toppled to the ground and the screen went to black, though the sound remained on. There was a ruffling noise, then an unintelligible exchange of words, then more yelling.

  “Shoot that racist pig!”

  “You gon’ die tonight, cop!”

  More scuffling.

  And then, a single gunshot pierced the night air.

  The video grew momentarily silent, then one of the boys yelled, “Let’s get out of here!” followed by the sound of footsteps running away.

  Gloria stood in petrified silence as the scuffling continued, until finally, the anchor came back on.

  “Police in the entire Golden Triangle have joined forces in search of the suspects. Anyone with information is asked to call authorities.” The anchor’s disdain was evident. Whatever happened to objectivity in news?

  “I have a right to film!”

  Even if Gloria didn’t recognize the grainy image, or the cross tattoo that had sent Elton through the roof, there was no denying the voice. The suspect who was now the subject of a massive tri-city manhunt was her only son, Jamal.

  “What in blue blazes is going on here?”

  Gloria jumped and then turned as her husband, Elton, made his way into the den of their modest ranch-style home. She quickly slammed the television off, and then looked down at the shattered vase at her feet.

  “Did you cut yourself ?” Elton said, looking at a trickle of blood oozing out of the top of her foot.

  Gloria hadn’t even realized that a piece of glass had pierced her foot. When she’d seen that video, everything else became a blur.

  “What’s going on?” Elton repeated, studying her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just dropped a vase.” Gloria knelt down and began picking up the shattered pieces.

  Elton eyed her suspiciously. “You were standing there, just staring at the TV. What were you looking at?”

  She would have tried to force a smile, but no amount of acting could make that happen. “Oh no, I was just catching something on the Home Shopping Network when the vase slipped out of my hand.” She turned her back to her husband because if he saw her eyes—and her absolute fear—he’d know that she was lying.

  “Woman, I done told you about being so clumsy.” He walked over, knelt down next to her, then kissed her on the cheek. “But I love you, clumsy self and all. I gotta get over to the church. Got a board meeting and you know Deacon Wade will throw a fit if I’m not there on time.”

  Gloria knew that she should tell her husband what she’d just seen. She knew that he didn’t need to be blindsided at church. But Elton hadn’t wanted Jamal to go out last night. He hated Jamal’s friends. He despised his son’s rebel-with-a-cause attitude and they fought all the time. But Jamal was sixteen and Gloria was scared Elton’s strict ways would push their son away. So she’d convinced her husband to let Jamal go hang out with his friends. She’d told Elton that they had to loosen the reins on their only child. Elton had finally given in. And now look at the price they were paying.

  She stopped him just as he got to the front door. “Ah, Elton . . .” He paused, but she couldn’t find her words. She needed to tell her husband that police were hu
nting their son. A massive manhunt at that. She had to let Elton know. But when he turned to face her, no words would come out of her mouth.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just wanted to say, um, have a good day. I’ll see you later,” Gloria said instead.

  Elton studied her for a moment. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said, finally forcing a smile. She ran her fingers through her shoulder-length tresses, a nervous habit that she hoped he didn’t notice. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” He pushed a strand of her graying hair out of her face. After twenty-eight years of marriage, he could tell when something was wrong with her.

  “Oh, I’m just tired. I was out in the garden this morning and you know this August heat.” She fanned herself, hoping to seem more convincing.

  He stared at her a moment, and then, as if he finally believed her, simply nodded. “Well, get some rest today. Where’s Jamal? Don’t tell me he’s still asleep.” Elton looked down the hall toward Jamal’s room. It was Saturday and Jamal usually slept in until they came in and made him get up.

  Gloria couldn’t tell her husband that Jamal hadn’t come home last night. She was praying that he returned before Elton noticed that he wasn’t home.

  Gloria hated lying to her husband but ever since Jamal had turned thirteen, his already strained relationship with his father had gone to a whole other level of contention. Jamal wasn’t a disrespectful child but lately it was as if an independent streak had kicked in. He started hanging out with the wrong people, cutting school, and getting fed up with Elton’s strict ways. He’d even started talking about feeling like Elton wished he’d never been born. Gloria had tried to convince her son that wasn’t the case, but it didn’t help that Elton sometimes did act that way.

  And then there was that tattoo. That had been the latest act of rebellion. When Jamal told his dad he’d “gotten a cross in honor of the good reverend,” Elton had gone utterly ballistic.

  Gloria turned to go get the dustpan so that she didn’t have to look her husband in the eye.