The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel) (12 page)

BOOK: The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel)
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A
s soon as the doorbell rang, Dillon looked at Melissa and she dragged herself into the entryway to open the door. If only she would listen to him she wouldn’t have to walk around with a black eye or have to feel embarrassed. He didn’t know why she made him do these kinds of things, and in all honesty, it had been a couple of years since she’d made him lose it to the extent he had last night. But she just hadn’t wanted to give up on traveling with him to Atlanta. He’d told her once, twice, three times even, but she’d kept crying and begging him to let her go. This was when he’d warned her about pushing him too far, but lo and behold, she’d asked him a fourth time and then she’d told him how she had every right to go to his aunt’s funeral because she’d been the one to call to check on her all the time, anyway. Dillon barely remembered what had happened after that, but all he knew was that this morning when he’d gotten up, he’d found her sleeping in the den on the sofa and he’d noticed how strange her eye looked. Maybe now she would listen when he told her something once and for all and she’d accept it.

When Melissa opened the door, the driver looked at her and seemed uncomfortable. “Uh, hi. I’m Carlisle, and I’m here for Mr. Whitfield.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” Dillon said, rolling his suitcase toward the door.

Carlisle took it from him. “I’m fine, thank you. I’ll be right outside, sir.”

As the driver walked away, Dillon had to admit he liked this kind of service. He certainly had more than enough money to hire limos whenever he wanted, but since he never left town he never needed transportation to O’Hare, which was an hour away. This limo was very special to him, though, because his father had paid for it. His dad had also told him that whenever they ordered a car, they always requested Carlisle because he was the best.

Dillon grabbed his black blazer, slipped it on, and looked back at Melissa. Tears filled her eyes. He wished he hadn’t gotten so upset last night, but she was so doggoned hardheaded. The whole thing had been her fault, and he sort of resented her for making him punish her like this. He figured the least he could do was say good-bye, though.

“I’ll see you later.”

Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Bye.”

What a pitiful sight, Dillon thought, and walked outside.

Once Carlisle closed Dillon’s door, he got back in the car and drove out of the subdivision. Dillon was glad to be leaving Melissa behind, which made him happy, but suddenly he thought about his aunt. He hated feeling sad and helpless, though, so he tried to think about the happy times they’d shared. Then, the closer they drove to his dad’s house to pick him up, the more content Dillon felt again. His dad lived closer to the interstate, so that was the reason he’d requested that the car swing by to get Dillon first.

Dillon stretched his legs all the way out, looked at cars passing by them, and sort of got tickled. He could barely contain himself because he was finally getting what he’d wanted—time alone with his father, and on top of that, they were traveling out of town together. They would spend days in Atlanta, just the two of them, and miles away from everyone else—Charlotte the Harlot, Curtina, Alicia, Phillip—folks who didn’t matter or mean squat to Dillon. He also no longer had to worry about Matthew easing his way back into the picture, at least not for now, anyway. Dillon still hadn’t learned whether Matthew had gone to visit his parents that day he’d seen him or not, but today Matthew didn’t worry him—today, his dad would think only about one of his sons, his firstborn child, and that was all that mattered.

It was funny how even though his aunt had always told him that for everything bad, something good happened, he’d never believed her, yet now he knew she’d been right. Who would have thought that losing his aunt could lead to spending such quality time with his father? Losing Aunt Susan was the worst, but being with his dad was the best, and he knew the latter would alleviate his pain with each passing day. He felt as giddy as a small child, and now that Carlisle was waiting for the gate to open so he could drive up his father’s lengthy driveway, he wanted to laugh out loud. Dillon almost didn’t like the way he was feeling because most grown men would never feel this kind of emotion. It was actually embarrassing, so Dillon calmed himself down so his dad wouldn’t see him acting this way. He manned up—but then he spotted his dad walking outside, all lovey-dovey with Charlotte. They acted as though they’d just met maybe a month ago, and that they had no idea what they were going to do without each other. It was enough to make Dillon ill. Down to the very last minute, this woman was still getting on his nerves, and he couldn’t wait for his father to get in the car.

Carlisle opened the door, and Curtis kissed Charlotte. Then he hugged her.

“I’ll call you as soon as we get to the airport,” he told her.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too, baby. Kiss my baby girl for me when she gets home from school.”

“You know I will. Be safe.”

Dillon looked straight ahead, refusing to as much as glance at Charlotte, and his dad made himself comfortable inside the limo.

“Good morning, son.”

“Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess. Still a little shocked about my aunt, though.”

“That’s to be expected, but I’ve been praying for you.”

Carlisle drove around the circular drive, and Dillon glanced at the fountain displayed in the center. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he’d always admired it. Maybe it was because it screamed wealth and elegance, and that excited him. Actually, he wondered if his dad might let him move in with him once he kicked Charlotte out. Dillon didn’t see why not because this was simply the way most well-off people lived, specifically those wealthy people who had lots of bedrooms and tons of square footage. In those cases, adult children lived with their parents for as long as they wanted. He knew this because he’d seen the new version of
Dallas
, which was a spin-off of the old one that had aired back in the eighties when he was just a toddler. On
Dallas
, the adult children never moved out, and when they got married their spouses moved in, too. When they had children, they built nurseries for them right inside the mansion.

As Carlisle exited onto the interstate, Curtis’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his blazer pocket. He looked at the display, smiling, and Dillon wondered who it was.

“So we’re ten minutes away from the house and you’re missing me already?” he said, laughing.

Was that Charlotte? Why couldn’t she leave his dad alone? She saw him every day, so wasn’t that enough? But Dillon knew she was only calling as a way to irritate
him
. She knew Dillon had been trying for such long while to spend time alone with his father, and this was her rude way of interrupting it. She was secretly taunting him again, the same as always, but that was okay because he would get her back soon enough. In the end, she would beg him to forgive her. She would plead for mercy, but all he would do is laugh at her.

F
inally. No fiancée he despised, no irritating half sisters or brother, no evil stepmother. Life just didn’t get any better than this. As far back as Dillon could remember, he’d dreamed about having a dad. He’d fantasized about it, and now all that he’d hoped for was reality. He’d met his dad last year, but today was the first full day he’d been able to have him all to himself. They’d arrived in Atlanta yesterday, early afternoon, rented an SUV, and then driven to the Ritz-Carlton downtown. Then when they’d gotten settled into their room, they’d gone straight to the hospital to release his aunt’s body to the funeral home. After that, they’d both been a bit tired, so they’d gone back to the hotel, eaten dinner in the restaurant, and gone up to their room to watch the NBA playoffs. At first, when his dad had told him that one of his secretaries would make the hotel and flight arrangements, he’d wondered if they would book two separate rooms. So he’d been thrilled when he’d learned that his father had requested one room with two double beds. He’d been ecstatic because he knew that no father would share a hotel room with a son he didn’t love. No father would pack up at the last minute and hop on a plane for a son he didn’t want to be there for, and Dillon couldn’t be more grateful.

When the valet pulled the black SUV around to the front entrance, Dillon gave him a ten-dollar bill and drove away. It was only half past nine in the morning, and it was also Saturday, so thankfully there wasn’t much traffic. They didn’t have too far to go, at least not by Atlanta standards, since his aunt’s home was just over in Lithonia. It was maybe twenty miles away at the most.

“So, do you miss Atlanta?” Curtis asked him.

“Sometimes, but not really.”

“It’s a huge change of pace. Mitchell is at least ten times smaller. Especially if you count all the suburbs here.”

“True, but I’ve never done a lot of socializing or partying, so living in a smaller town doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, I’ve lived in both Atlanta and Chicago, and sometimes I miss big-city life.”

“But Chicago is so close, you could drive there daily if you wanted to,” Dillon said.

“That rarely happens, though, because I’m always too busy. And don’t get me wrong, I love Mitchell. I’m just saying that sometimes it would be nice to take Curtina downtown to some of the larger plays for children. It would be great to see other attractions, too.”

Dillon cringed. The conversation had been going exceptionally well, so why did he have to bring up that little brat? Why couldn’t he just forget about them? At least while they were down here for his aunt’s funeral.

Dillon changed lanes and tried to act as though nothing was wrong. He didn’t speak, though.

So they drove another couple of miles, but now his dad’s phone rang. Dillon cringed again.

“Hey baby girl,” he said.

Dillon didn’t know whether it was Alicia or Curtina calling, because his dad regularly referred to both of them as his “baby girl,” but that was beside the point. Dillon didn’t want him talking to either one of them.

“So what are you and Phillip up to this weekend…really…sounds like a nice time. You can never go wrong spending the day on Navy Pier. Especially since it’s pretty hot there today. I saw on TV this morning that it was gonna be eighty-two in Chicago. So you can imagine how hot it is here.”

Dillon wanted to yank his dad’s phone away from him. He and Alicia weren’t even talking about anything important, so why couldn’t he talk to her later? Better yet, why couldn’t he call her when he got back home?

“We’re headed to his aunt’s house now. Her friend is meeting us there, and then we’re going to the funeral home…We’re not sure yet, but we found out from the hospital that her cause of death was heart failure. We don’t know the official reason yet, though…Okay, I’m glad you called, baby girl, and I’ll make sure to tell him. Love you much,” he said and ended the call. “Alicia sends her best and says she’s praying for you.”

Yeah right. She didn’t even like him, so why would she care one way or the other about his aunt dying? People did this all the time, telling others they were going to pray for them, even though they knew they weren’t. They said this only because it sounded good and because it made them feel better about themselves.

“Are you okay?” Curtis asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to settle his temper.

“Why are you so quiet?”

“No reason,” he said dryly.

Curtis looked out his window and didn’t say another word. Now Dillon worried that maybe his dad had picked up on his anger and he was annoyed by it. Dillon couldn’t have his dad upset with him, though, not when they’d bonded so perfectly last night, so he did what he could to fix things.

“I was just thinking about my aunt. I still can’t believe she’s gone, and Dad, it hurts.”

“I know. Losing someone you love is the hardest thing anyone has to go through. I remember how I felt when I lost my mother. I was devastated. It also didn’t help that I hadn’t been in touch with her for years. I still regret that to this day, and sometimes the guilt tears me apart.”

Dillon felt the same way about his aunt, but he tried not to think about it. He tried telling himself that he couldn’t call her as much or fly back and forth to Atlanta and also get to know his father the way he needed to. He was sure she’d understood that, though. Of course, she had.

But Dillon did wonder why his dad hadn’t spoken to his mom. He knew his grandmother had passed away a few years back, but that’s all his dad had told him.

“So why hadn’t you seen your mom?”

“It’s a long story, son, but mostly it was because of how selfish I was. I didn’t realize how important family was, and I went on with my life without them. But like I said, I regret it, and I can never change the way I treated her.”

Dillon drove a few more miles and turned into his aunt’s driveway. When he looked in his rearview mirror, he saw a stocky woman with brown hair walking toward them. It must be Tina.

Dillon opened his door and got out.

She smiled brightly and hugged him. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Susan talked about you all the time. She thought the world of you.”

“It’s nice meeting you also. And this is my dad.”

Curtis walked around the vehicle and shook her hand. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So how long have you known Aunt Susan?” Dillon asked.

“Only about nine months. After my divorce, I moved in next door,” she said, pointing across the way, “and your aunt and I became fast friends. She was such a kind spirit.”

They made small talk while walking up the sidewalk. Tina unlocked the door, opened it, and disarmed the security system. Dillon wondered why she even knew the code, and that made him wonder if his aunt had been sick for a very long time. The attending doctor had listed her cause of death as heart failure, as his father had just told Alicia, but Dillon had assumed it was the result of a sudden heart attack. That had to be it because had she been ill for months, there was no way she wouldn’t have told him.

“Susan had everything in order, and it’s all right over there in the dining room. We can have a seat if you want.”

Dillon walked through the living room and down the short hall, reminiscing about his childhood. After all these years, the house still looked the same, and it still felt like home. It was amazing how comfortable he felt in only a matter of minutes when he hadn’t been there in more than twelve months.

As they sat down at the table, Dillon looked at the wall of photos, smiling, but then he choked up when he saw the one where his aunt was holding the back of his little red bike. It had been taken the day she’d taught him how to ride it without training wheels. This was more proof that his aunt had been there for him every step of the way, and he could kick himself for not coming to see her every time she’d asked him.

“So had she been sick very long?” Curtis asked, and Dillon almost hated to hear the answer.

“She had. For more than six months. She actually lived longer than her doctors expected.”

Dillon frowned. “What was wrong with her?”

“She had pancreatic cancer.”

Dillon leaned back in his chair. “What? How? And why did the hospital tell us she’d died from heart failure?”

“Because she did. But it was still a result of complications relating to her cancer.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“I tried to get her to, but she wouldn’t. All she’d say was that she didn’t want to burden you.”

“Had she been sick before she was diagnosed?” Curtis asked.

“No, and when they discovered what she had, she was already in her final stage. This is common with pancreatic cancer, though. No symptoms until it’s too late.”

Dillon was speechless. Why hadn’t she told him so he could have come back to Atlanta to take care of her?

“I just don’t get it,” Dillon said. “When I spoke to her the other night, she sounded a little tired, but she seemed fine.”

“That’s because all that day, she’d seemed better than ever. Almost like she was well. It was as if she got better to leave here.”

Curtis nodded. “I’ve heard that many times before, so I believe it.”

Dillon had tried to forget about all the messages she’d left him before he’d finally called her a couple of days ago. Actually, ever since learning of her death, he’d pushed those phone messages out of his mind. He could no longer pretend that she hadn’t tried to call him, though, and that there was a chance she might have told him she was dying—if she’d had a chance to talk to him.

“Here’s a list of everything she wants for the service, and she also asked me to give you this.” Tina passed Dillon a sealed envelope.

Dillon was almost afraid to take it, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t sure when he would read it, though. Not when there was no telling what Aunt Susan had written.

They sat discussing the church home-going and burial services, and then prepared to head over to the funeral home. Dillon wasn’t looking forward to picking out caskets, flowers, or anything else relating to his aunt’s death, and he couldn’t wait for this to be over. It was too painful to deal with, but more than anything, he was drenched with guilt and it tore him apart. He’d managed to keep a straight face, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last because what he wanted to do was run outside, screaming at the top of his lungs. He wanted to beg, plead, and bargain with God—anything to bring his aunt back. But sadly, it was much too late. He’d chosen to not come see her, and she was gone. He’d been sure he had plenty of time, but now he knew that not even the next minute was promised to a person—not even the next second.

BOOK: The Prodigal Son (A Reverend Curtis Black Novel)
4.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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