After Curtina left for school, Curtis kissed Charlotte good-bye, and now he was back on I-90 east, heading to see his sister. But what he thought about more than anything—at least at this very moment—was how rude and disrespectful Curtina had become. She was so different, and Curtis wondered what was wrong with her. Why she was acting as though she hated them? He and Charlotte hadn’t been perfect parents, but they’d loved her and taken care of her in every way they could. Yes, she hadn’t been born into this world in the most honorable way, what with Curtis having an affair on Charlotte with Curtina’s mother, Tabitha, but he and Charlotte had still given Curtina the best life possible. It was also true that, at first, Charlotte hadn’t been too happy about taking in a two-year-old little girl who was a product of Curtis’s cheating, but soon Charlotte had begun loving her as her own. So much so that Curtina had eventually become one of Charlotte’s greatest blessings. She’d loved Curtina, doted on her, and treated her as though she’d given birth to her. But for some reason, none of that mattered anymore, and Curtis couldn’t understand it.
Curtis drove past the largest auto manufacturing plant in the area, crossed into the far-left lane, and accelerated a bit faster. Then it dawned on him that he still hadn’t called Alicia to give her more details about her aunt. Actually, he hadn’t told Matthew or Dillon either because when he and Charlotte had returned from visiting Trina, he’d been too mentally exhausted. He was still trusting God for his sister’s healing, of course, but he was also still very hurt about all the years he’d lost with her, thanks to his own selfish decision to walk away from her and their mom. He’d done so and hadn’t felt bad about it—until now—and he couldn’t stop replaying the whole scenario. Worse, he cringed every single time he tried to accept his daunting truth: He couldn’t change what he’d done, and he would always have to live with it. Forever.
Curtis dialed Alicia’s number, and she answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Daddy. How are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay, but I certainly understand why you don’t. I’m devastated, too.”
“It just doesn’t seem real.”
“No, it doesn’t. She was always so full of life.”
“I’m really glad your mom decided to take you to meet your grandma and auntie,” he said, remembering how he hadn’t learned about that until the day his mom had died. His ex-wife, Tanya, had taken Alicia to see them behind his back, and while he’d been a little shocked about it, he was glad she had. “I’m also still sorry that I was never planning to do it myself. And I’m sorry that I lied and led you and Matthew to believe that your uncle Larry’s mom and dad were your grandparents.”
“We all make mistakes, Daddy, and I hope you’ll eventually find a way to forgive yourself. I know you want Aunt Trina to forgive you, too, but you also have to find peace within.”
“I know, and thankfully, Trina has forgiven me. She told me yesterday. And she also said the same as you, that I have to forgive myself.”
“I’m so glad to hear that, Daddy.”
Then Curtis told her everything that Jason had told him about Trina’s illness and how she’d decided not to continue treatments.
“Gosh,” Alicia said. “This is a lot. It’s so heartbreaking.”
“That it is, and it’s the reason I’ve made up my mind to spend as much time with her as possible. I wasn’t there for her in the past, but I will be from here on out.”
“Are you going back to visit her today?”
“I’m on my way now.”
“When you and I hang up, I’m going to call her. But Levi and I are also going to go visit her one day this week.”
“She’ll be so happy to see you. And hey, how is your writing going?”
“Fine, and I only have a few more chapters to write.”
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl. I’m also very proud of Levi and glad to call him my son-in-law—well, actually, he’s more my son than he is an in-law.”
“Thank you, Daddy. That makes me so happy, because more than anything I wanted you and Levi to be close.”
“I know, and he’s a good man. Even when he was dealing drugs, he still had a big heart, but once he got out of prison he turned his life around for the better. And I have so much respect for him. So many people find God in prison and vow to become true Christians, but it doesn’t always happen.”
“That’s very true.”
“He’s also doing a great job at the church. Our jail and prison ministry was already great, but now that Levi is heading it up, we’re reaching so many more men and women. And we have a lot more volunteers.”
“He did wonders with the addictions ministry at Dillon’s church, too. So I’m not surprised about how seriously he’s taking his dedication to helping people. He really cares about them.”
“It’s very noticeable, and on top of that, he genuinely loves you.”
“He does, Daddy, and I love him, too. He’s my heart and joy.”
Curtis thought about his first two marriages and how he’d ruined them, and then he thought about the fact that Alicia had done the same with her first husband, Phillip. Likely as a result of the bad example Curtis had set for her. Then, if that hadn’t been enough, she’d allowed her great desire to have lots of money and material possessions to prompt her into remarrying—this time to a deceptive but successful pastor named JT. He’d given Alicia everything she could want, but he’d also slept around on her behind her back and done other things that weren’t worth mentioning ever again. But with Levi, even though Alicia had begun seeing him while she’d still been married to Phillip, she’d found true happiness. The two of them had made bad choices very early on, but now they were good.
“Well, baby girl, I have a couple of business calls to make, but I just wanted to fill you in a little more about Trina.”
“I’m glad you did. You drive safely, Daddy.”
“I will, and I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Curtis rang Trina’s doorbell, and seconds later a sandy-brown-haired thirtysomething woman opened the door, smiling. She was dressed in light blue scrubs, so Curtis knew she was the home health nurse that Jason had told him and Charlotte about yesterday. “Please come in,” she said.
Curtis walked inside. “Thank you.”
“I’m Denise,” she said, reaching her hand out to him.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Denise, and I guess you already know I’m Curtis.”
“Yes, Miss Trina told me you were coming. She said she really enjoyed her time with you yesterday and couldn’t wait to see you again today.”
Denise’s words warmed Curtis’s heart. “That’s really great to hear. And how is she doing this morning?”
“She’s a bit on the tired side, but she’s comfortable.”
Curtis half smiled and hoped the word comfortable didn’t mean that Trina was now being given morphine. Jason hadn’t said anything about hospice care being called in, but because of all the terminally-ill church members Curtis had visited over the years, he knew that this was normally what comfortable meant. So what if Jason had only claimed that Denise was from a home health agency because he didn’t want Curtis to know the truth?
“So which agency are you from?” he asked before he realized it.
“Interim Private Home Care,” she said, already heading down the hallway.
Curtis followed her. “Well, thank you for taking care of my sister.”
“Miss Trina is one of the best patients I’ve had. She’s so thoughtful and kind.”
“She’s always been that way. Even when we were children.”
When they arrived inside the family room, Trina smiled. She was sitting in her recliner, watching Gwyn Shepherd, who was local, but also known as a prominent female evangelist nationwide.
Curtis leaned down and hugged her and sat on the sofa adjacent to her. “So you like hearing Gwyn. So do I.”
“She’s awesome. Over the years, I’ve listened to her from time to time, but these last few months I’ve listened to her daily. Then on Sunday mornings, I watch Ever Increasing Faith.”
Curtis smiled. “Apostle Price is in a class all by himself. A true man of God who I wish I’d known in my younger years. Because if I had, there’s a chance I wouldn’t have fallen astray the way I did.”
Trina nodded in agreement. “And his wife, Dr. Betty, is special, too. I’ve never met her, but the first time I heard her speak, I knew right away that she loved God, her family, and mankind as a whole. And that says everything.”
“They’re really good people. Such great examples for pastors, first ladies, and well, Christians, period.”
Trina reached for Curtis’s hand. “You’re a great example, too. I know you’ve had lots of problems over the years, something the media had no problem reporting. But I also know you’ve changed. I’ve watched some of your sermons on YouTube.”
“Wow, so you were keeping up with your big brother after all.”
“I was. I never told anyone, not even Jason, but how could I not? Sometimes I would browse your church’s web site, and sometimes I would scroll through your social media pages. Just to see photos of you.”
Curtis took a deep breath. “I know I keep telling you how sorry I am, but I really am. I’m sorry for everything.”
“I know, and I believe you. So please don’t feel as though you have to keep telling me. Because you don’t. You and I are good. Really.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’m glad,” she said, turning down the volume on the television and changing the subject. “So how was Two Ninety-Four south?”
“Not bad. I-Ninety was fine, too, but I’m sure it was because rush hour was already over.”
“That always makes a difference.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds and then Curtis said, “Can I get you something? Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m okay. I’m comfortable.”
There was that word comfortable again, and although he didn’t believe Denise was from hospice the way he’d originally been wondering, the word still reminded him of how sick his sister was.
“Well, if you need anything I hope you’ll let me know. Anything at all. Even if I have to drive somewhere to get it.”
“I will.”
Trina glanced back toward the television, and Curtis looked at the large bronze-framed family portrait above the fireplace. In it he saw Trina, Jason, Amber, and Eric.
“What a beautiful portrait,” he said.
Trina gazed up at it. “We just took it a year ago…and little did I know it would likely be our last. At least when it comes to professional photos, anyway.”
Curtis raised his eyebrows. “But you’re still trusting God to heal you, though, right?”
“Yes, but if He decides it’s my time to leave here, I’m very much ready. I have things completely right with Him, and I’m at peace about it. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I certainly don’t want to leave Jason or my children. Or any of you, for that matter. But if leaving here is God’s will, then at least I can say without any doubt that I know where I’m going.”
Curtis smiled. “I’m really happy to hear you say that. I’m so glad to know that you have such an awesome relationship with God, because that’s what’s important. It’s the most important thing for any of us.”
“It is. There was a time when my relationship with Him was lukewarm at best, but over this last year, I drew as close to God as I possibly could. I’ve gotten to know Him on a much deeper level, and I also know that I’ll get to see Mom again. I’ll get to see the best woman I have ever known.”
Curtis understood every word she’d just told him because his mom had, in fact, been kind and loving to everyone she met. But sadly, he also couldn’t help thinking about the terrible resentment he’d felt toward her when he was a child—because of the way she hadn’t protected him from his evil father.
Curtis stood in the short hallway that led to his bedroom, his sister’s bedroom, and his parents’, peeking around the corner. As usual, he saw his father sitting in the box-sized living room, drinking. But Curtis was hungry and wanted to go into the kitchen, where his mom was, to see if dinner was ready. They were having a rare delicacy, spaghetti and meatballs, and he couldn’t wait. So he darted through the living room as quickly as he could, and his mother smiled when she saw him.
“You dumb little idiot,” Thomas yelled. “Stupid little bastard. You’re nothing more than scum on the street, and I can already tell you’ll never amount to anything.”
Curtis looked at his mom and felt sick to his stomach.
But Pauline didn’t say anything. She just kept stirring the pot of spaghetti as though his father hadn’t said a word to Curtis—her firstborn child.
Curtis swallowed hard, becoming more nervous by the second, and wondered why his mother wouldn’t defend him. Why she never defended him. She’d done this kind of thing all the time, and Curtis couldn’t understand why she saw no reason to protect him. Because wasn’t that what mothers were supposed to do? Protect their children from people who wanted to harm them? Even if one of those people was their own diabolical father? Curtis could tell how afraid of him she was, but why she wouldn’t stop this monster from belittling him, and more important, beating him, well, Curtis just didn’t get that.
“Bring your dumb behind in here,” his father yelled angrily. “And grab a beer out of that icebox and bring it with you.”
Curtis always hated doing that, because it made him feel as though he was helping his father get drunk. But he knew if he didn’t do as he was told, there would be trouble. So he pulled a brown bottle of beer from the refrigerator and took it to him.
His father turned up the beer he was just finishing and reached it toward Curtis, who guessed it was so he could throw it away. But then he told Curtis to open the full one. Curtis cringed yet lifted the opener from the small wooden table next to his dad and flipped the top off the bottle. Then he passed it to Thomas.
“No, you drink some first,” he demanded.
Curtis felt more nauseated than before and wondered why his father was asking him to do something like this. Because regardless of how much he drank himself, he’d never asked Curtis to consume alcohol. “Please, Dad, I don’t want to.”
His father sat up straighter in the worn-down olive-green crushed-velvet chair. “What did you say? Are you talking back to me?”
Curtis slowly backed away from him. “Uh…no…but I don’t want any.”
His father moved to the edge of the chair, squinting his eyes. “You do want it. And from here on out, you’ll want whatever I tell you to want.”
Curtis was terrified and wondered why his mom still hadn’t as much as looked into the living room to see what his father was doing to him. She never even grunted, let alone said anything. So Curtis took another couple of steps backward from his dad.
But when he did, Thomas got to his feet, grabbed him by his neck with one hand, and yanked the beer away from Curtis with the other.
It was then that Curtis dropped the empty bottle to the floor.
“I said drink this, and I mean it!” his father yelled.
Tears fell down Curtis’s face. “No, Dad. I don’t want to.”
Thomas’s eyes grew angrier. “Don’t you talk back to me. Don’t you ever talk back to me,” he said, and then forced the beer bottle into Curtis’s mouth.
Curtis tried to move his head away, but soon, he had no choice but to swallow some of the alcohol, all the while choking on it and coughing uncontrollably.
His father released him and laughed hysterically. “You’re nothin’ but an ignorant little wimp. A weak little punk who I wish had never been born,” he exclaimed, pouring the rest of the beer on Curtis’s head and face. “Now take this in the kitchen and get me another one.”
Curtis tried to stop crying but he couldn’t, and now his face was soaking wet—from tears and the beer his father had tortured him with. Still, as he dragged himself into the kitchen, all his mom did was gaze at him, seemingly with sad eyes and a look of sorrow. And it was at that moment that Curtis knew she would never protect him and that when he was older he would leave this house of terror and never look back. He was only thirteen, and Lord knows he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to last living there another five years, but he would. He would trust the God that he’d been reading about and getting to know as much as he could, and he would work hard in school so he could graduate, go to college, and never be poor again. When he was older, he would buy his wife and children a big beautiful home, and they would never want for anything—he was going to make sure of it. Why? Because he was smart, and he made A’s in every subject. And while Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had passed away four years ago, Curtis thought about his “We Shall Overcome” speech. He thought about it a lot, because he, too, would overcome someday. Deep in his heart, he knew he would.
He just had to.