The Fall of the Prodigal (21 page)

Keith left Dr. Nancy Forrester's office unsuccessful in his mission. The doctor had refused to break confidentiality as he figured. But still he had to try.

He then tried to reach Verona. It went to voicemail.
That girl sure loved to run.

“God, you need to bind her feet,” he uttered. With a nickname like Tiger, he had expected a little more spunk. However, it appeared her predator skills were limited to the courtroom and not to her personal life.

On impulse, Keith decided to stop by his church office. He felt an inexplicable urge to head to Zion's Hill. He did not know why. Maybe he would spend some quiet time with God. Finish up the Book of Zechariah. That was one of the books Gina, Michael, and he had read while they were in fasting and prayer. Keith wanted to zone in on Zechariah 4:6 in particular. “‘Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts,'” he recited. That verse had a message in it for him and everyone else.

Michael had done quite a bit of praying as well. The first day, he had said two lines. But by the end of the third day, Michael was praying like he had been doing it for years. The fasting would take him some time to get used to.

Keith cracked up remembering how Michael had convinced his secretary, Dianne, to order pizza. He and Gina had opened their eyes after praying to find Michael missing in action. They searched and searched for him; worried he had broken the judge's orders. Keith would never forget the look on Gina's face when they discovered Michael in Keith's private bathroom wolfing down his fourth slice.

Keith parked in his designated space. A Yellow Cab pulled into the space next to him. Who could be coming to the church today? Curious, he waited inside his car to see who would be exiting the vehicle.

It was Mindy.

What's she doing here?
he wondered before the thought hit.
Answered prayer.

Mindy wrapped her coat about her, strutted over to his vehicle, and tapped on his window. Keith rolled down the power window.

“Perfect timing.” She grinned and held out a hand. “I need cab fare.”

Keith settled her tab and tipped the driver. He hurried them into the building. It was about thirty-six degrees, which for mid-December was high temperatures. He nodded at Dianne and left the door open. Once Mindy was seated across from him in his study, he asked, “How did you know I'd be here?”

“I didn't,” Mindy answered. “I was worrying, too. Especially once I realized I didn't have enough cab fare.”

“Why didn't you use one of your father's vehicles?”

She broke eye contact. “He doesn't want me driving. He's afraid to let me behind the wheel though I'm a very good driver. For the most part, I don't mind using cabs because it's easier. Sometimes, Elle G shuttles me around, if she can.”

“Who's Elle G?” he asked. Distracted because he was sending a text to Gina, Keith did not hear her response. When he looked up, he saw Mindy eyeing him. “Sorry. I was sending my wife info about my whereabouts.”

“I'm good,” she assured him.

Gina responded: OK. Thx. Michael is working out.

Keith hit the silent button and placed his cell phone face down on the table. He opened his mouth to share that he had been expecting her. The Spirit urged him not to speak.

Obedient, Keith said, “Why don't you tell me why you're here?”

Mindy straightened her spine as if she was gathering her courage. Then in a tiny voice, she said, “There are three people inside me.”

Keith's ears pricked. He had been expecting a confession, not a revelation. “What do you mean?”

“I have multiple personalities,” she explained. “I was diagnosed when I was a child.”

Lord, I invite your presence and your power.
Though he knew the answer, Keith asked, “Are you seeing someone?” The lawyer in him wanted to hit the record button on his phone, but this conversation wouldn't be admitted in court.

“I've been seeing a psychiatrist, Dr. Forrester, but my father made me stop going. He doesn't believe in it, calls it psychobabble.” She gave Keith a sly look. “He doesn't believe much in God or church either.”

“Yet, you're here,” he noted.

“I am. I watch your shows. You talk about how God is a healer. I want healing. I want to be normal like everyone else.”

Keith took in Mindy's expectant face. For a moment, he felt out of his league.

She wrapped her arms about her. “You think I'm weird. Are you going to be scared and treat me like a pariah like everyone else?”

Lord, help me.
He opened his mouth and spouted a Bible verse: “‘For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love and of a sound mind.'”
Thank you, Holy Ghost!

“A sound mind. A sound mind,” Mindy repeated. Her body straightened. “For a second there, I thought you'd be like everyone else. Is that in the Bible? Where can I find it?”

“It's here in Second Timothy 1 verse 7.” Keith walked over to the large oak chest in the corner of his office and pulled it open. Taking out one of the wrapped giveaway Bibles, he tore off the plastic coating. Within seconds, he located the passage before handing it to her. This time he sat in the chair next to her.

Mindy read the verse with the enthusiasm of a thirsty wanderer who had found water. She repeated the verse at least three times. Then she pierced him with an enraptured gaze. “I want this. I want it. How can I get it?”

“You have to seek the One who gives it,” Keith explained. God was filling his mouth with words. Mindy's facial expression was akin to an eager baby bird waiting for the worm. God used that moment to teach Keith a lesson. People were still hungry for the Word and he had to be ready to share it whenever, wherever.

He shared, “Mindy, I'm not like most preachers. I'm not going to anoint you and pray over you for hours.”

She squinted her eyes. “You're not?”

Keith chuckled. “No, I don't have a magic wand to wave away your problems. Do you know what Jesus did with hungry people?”

“What?” Her eyes were round and eager.

“He fed them. He took care of the physical body first. That's where we'll start.”

She drooped. Keith actually felt her disappointment.

“When Jesus heals, He makes you completely whole. This is the first step,” he said.

Keith was about to go in preaching mode when Mindy changed lanes.

“There's another reason I'm here. I've been taking my medication. It dulls my thoughts. Taking pills is not the answer. Dr. Forrester told me I needed to confront my past. Even though it's painful,” she said, gripping his arm.

Like an experienced car driver, Keith followed Mindy's conversation shift. “Did you ever take Dr. Forrester's advice and talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No. Dr. Forrester felt my father should be there with me. He refused. He called her a quack and banned me from going. But I'm nineteen now. I can go without his permission.”

Keith nodded but did not egg her on. Whatever move Mindy made had to come from her.

“I want to see Dr. Forrester. But, I don't want to go alone. I . . . I want to help Michael. I want to remember what happened that night. But, I need Mousie and Baby to tell me.”

Keith gestured for her to elaborate.

“They are my alters or, as I call them, my only friends.” Mindy closed her eyes and hugged herself.

Keith experienced a wake-up call. He realized how scary mental illness was for the person living with it. He reached over and nudged Mindy on the shoulder. She stood. Her chest heaved. With timid eyes, she met his gaze. Keith inhaled from the pain, the torture, the loneliness he saw there.
Oh, Lord, thank you for opening my eyes.
Mindy was visibly suffering, filled with brokenness. Moved with compassion, he enfolded her in his arms and said. “God loves you.”

Her body shook. She pushed against him for him to release her.

But, God spoke through him. “I'm not letting you go.”

“No one wants me,” she sobbed, “not even my own father.”

He gave Mindy a fatherly pat. “God wants you.” Now he understood the impact Michael's words from his e-mails would have had on her heart.

Finally, they broke apart.

Mindy lifted her eyes to his. Through the Spirit, Keith saw
them.

She said, “Dr. Forrester can help us figure this out. Will you come with us?”

Verona eyed the text message and the two pictures of the suits he had attached.

Imagine the nerve of him! Days and days had passed with no communication, yet he could not even greet her with a proper hello. Verona had been watching television in the living room when the text came in. She had rushed upstairs to her room before she answered.

Seconds after Verona hit the send button her phone rang. “Took you long enough,” she said.

“I can't believe you ran off,” Michael shot back.

Not for a minute would she admit how much she had missed him. How glad she was to hear his voice. How her heart thumped against her chest like bongo drums. Instead Verona asked, “How is it at Keith and Gina's?”

“I'm out of that cell. As far as I'm concerned, I'm in heaven.” Michael addressed the reason he had called. “When are you coming back? I have a court date a month from now. I need you here.”‘

“I'll be back this week. I came to see my family.” She waited for that revelation to sink in.

“You went home? Who died?” Michael knew she did not have contact with her family, though she had never explained in detail.

“No one died. I came to see my parents. Life is too short to keep holding this grudge.”

She heard a small chuckle. “If it's anyone who can relate, it's me. But, I'm paying you a hefty retainer for you to be here on your A game.”

Typical Michael. Everything was about him. “This may come as a shock to you, but my life doesn't revolve around you. If you must know, I have a son. I came to see my parents and I, um, met him,” she said.

Silence filled the line. Good. It seemed as if she had managed to shock him.
Percolate on that awhile, Loudmouth.

Then Michael bellowed, “You have a son and didn't tell me! How dare you keep that from me? Why would you keep your son hidden? Why isn't he with you?”

Without knowing it, Verona raised her voice. “Hold on a minute. As far as I'm concerned, it's the case of the pot and kettle because you have two children, two, who somehow slipped your mind to mention.” She laid the sarcasm on thick.

“That's because it really wasn't your business,” he shot back. “You're my employee. I'm not beholden to you. I don't have to disclose my personal information to you.”

His haughty tone fired her temper. “I'm not some lowly employee. I'm the woman standing by your side even when you're the world's biggest jerk. Which you are most of the time! I'm sick of being your lapdog. You'd better learn to respect me or I'll quit!”

“Don't threaten me, woman! And, didn't you quit already?” he asked.

“I can't remember right now. Come to think of it, it's not relevant to this discussion because I'm here. I'm holding your purse strings in my hands. I've been busy keeping your hole-filled sinking ship of a business afloat. Whenever I'm not spending time with my son or my parents, I've been on that computer and on my cell phone handling things. For you. You'd better recognize!” She yelled at the top of her lungs.

Verona heard a knock at her door. Her mother asked, “Honey, are you okay?”

She cupped a hand over the phone. “Yes, Mom, I'm fine.” Then she went back to her call. “Now see what you've done. You've got my mother coming and asking if I'm all right because, as usual, you're being a moron!”

“Goodness, woman! You will respect me!” Michael said. She heard three loud exhalations through the line.

“Stop breathing like a stalker on the phone!”

“I'm trying to cool my temper,” Michael explained. She heard him shout, “Lord, help me!” before he continued in an even tone. “And for your information, I do recognize all you do for me.”

Verona really needed to follow his cue and calm down. Elijah would arrive in an hour and they were going to the mall and the movies. She was looking forward to taking her son shopping. She was not about to let this idiot ruin her mood.

“Thank you,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“No. Thank you,” he emphasized. Verona let him because he should be thanking her.

“I don't know why we're arguing,” Michael said. “I didn't call to fight. I called to check on you. See how the woman I love is doing. But, instead, my voice is hoarse and my blood pressure is sky high. You're the only woman on the planet who does this to me.”

Wait.
Did she hear right? Verona pressed the cell phone tighter to her ear. Did he say what she thought he said? “What did you say?”

She heard some sort of a commotion on his end. “Hang on,” Michael said. From what she could hear, it sounded like Trey was asking him to play ball. She heard Michael agree before he returned to the call.

Verona's heart was pumping fast and she gripped the phone with one of her sweat-filled palms. “What did you say?” she repeated.

The man had the nerve to play dumb. “Tiger, I have to go. By the way, I'm going to need you to sign off on a major purchase for me. No questions asked.”

Oh, now he was all business. Well, she would die before she asked him again. “I'll wait for the call.” Verona swiped the end button and trudged down the stairs in a funk. Both her parents stood at the foot of the stairs. Two pairs of concerned eyes watched her descent.

“Are you all right? I think the entire block heard your conversation,” Louisa stated.

“Yes, Mom. I'm all right.” In a daze, Verona confided to her parents. “I think Michael told me he's in love with me.”

Now they looked confused.

“You think?” her mother asked.

“Well, we were arguing. He said it like he regretted calling . . .” Verona trailed off, knowing her parents must think her plumb crazy. Michael riled her passions. She could not curb her reaction.

“I'm lost. Isn't that good news?” her father inquired.

Verona nodded. She was still befuddled. “I told Michael about Elijah. Well, I didn't get to give him the whole story. We were both heated from sharing our”—she formed quotes with her hands—“good news.”

“My word, you two have to come up with a better way to share your good news,” her mother noted.

Verona made a rash decision. “You're right, Mom.” With sure steps, she zoomed toward the computer in the kitchen. Her parents followed.

“I'm booking a flight for New York. I'll leave tomorrow sometime. I need to work on the case. I must speak with Michael in person.”

Louisa clutched her chest. “You're leaving?” Her crestfallen expression tore at Verona's heart. “I know you have to work but I just got you back.”

“I'm coming back the second week in January,” Verona assured her. “Elijah, I mean, Jah told me he's singing in church that Sunday. I'll be here.”

“That's what I want to hear.” Noel gave her a pointed stare. “No more running. You've been a prodigal too long.”

Verona put her tongue in her cheek to keep from going off. She did not appreciate her father comparing her to a prodigal. She knew he had meant it in jest, but it hit home.

In less than five minutes, Verona had booked her first-class ticket, snagging the last seat on an afternoon flight. Sulky, she went to the refrigerator to grab a yogurt. She plopped a huge spoonful in her mouth. Her father came and pulled a chair out.

“You can't run away from the hard stuff. I taught you better.”

“I don't see myself as a runner,” Verona said. Just then, she noted Louisa's absence. “Where did Mom go?”

“She's upstairs getting dressed. She wants to come with you and Elijah to the mall. She didn't think you'd mind.”

“No, I don't mind. I like the idea of three generations doing something together.”

They shared a smile, before her father got serious. “You didn't just leave us. You left the church. You left God. What did He do to you to deserve you dropping Him from your life?”

“I didn't drop God. How do you know I wasn't involved with church in New York? You could be misjudging me.”

Noel gave her a knowing glance and called her bluff. “Am I?”

Verona's shoulders dropped. “No, you didn't. I blamed God for not stopping you and Mom for taking Elijah from me. All throughout my pregnancy, I prayed. I prayed and I prayed. But, God didn't hear me. You still plucked that baby from my arms and gave him to the Smith's to raise.”

“We did, and right or wrong, I have to stand by my decision. I walk this life by faith. What you don't know is I was praying as well, nonstop. I asked for God's guidance. I felt He was leading me and I acted based on that belief.”

“I don't think God would agree with you giving a child up for adoption for no reason,” she said.

“The Smiths are wealthy and they were able to give Elijah a good home. We were broke and our home was in foreclosure. For us, the Smiths were answered prayer. By the way, God does favor adoption. What do you think we are? We are adopted by Him.”

“I make more than enough money now to provide for a child,” Verona declared, jutting her chin.

“Now. Not then. When you ran, I sought God's face. He directed me to talk with the Smiths. They agreed to an open adoption. Elijah has been a part of our lives ever since.”

“So, you and Mom could've helped me raise him,” she stubbornly insisted.

Her father sighed. “It's in the past. I can't change that. We have to move forward.”

Verona finished her yogurt. She could not let it go. She drummed her nails on the table as she gathered her thoughts. “Moving forward is easy when you're not the one who had to carry Elijah inside your womb for months. You didn't stand by helpless as he was ripped from your hands. You could have helped me instead of punishing me.”

“You have selective memory. I did help you,” Noel persisted. “Even though we could've used that money, Louisa and I didn't touch your college fund. When the time came, we gave you all we had. That money paid your college tuition and shelter. We didn't regret giving it to you, even though you never kept in touch. There were days we had rice for dinner but we were content because you had a better life.”

His words pierced her core. Her father told the truth. She had had no problem taking the money and leaving without a backward glance. While others were bogged down with student loan repayment, Verona had graduated debt free. She had been too spoiled and too rebellious to accept her parents' apology and their love.

A Bible verse from 1 Samuel 15 came back to her:

Truer words had never been spoken.

A sob escaped as Verona acknowledged her selfishness. “You're right. I was too caught up in my own hurt. I felt justified cutting you off. I didn't recognize that, whether I agreed with you or not, you did what you did because of love. Honestly, I don't deserve you and Mom.”

Noel leaned forward. “Do you know how much it hurt me to not see my only child graduate from Stanford? Your mother cried for days when I told her we didn't get an invitation. Then you left without a forwarding address. We didn't contact the authorities. We knew you weren't missing. We knew you didn't want us.”

Her nose ran. Her tears blinded her. Noel went to the counter and ripped a piece of paper towel before coming to wipe her face.

Choked with emotion, Verona lifted shame-filled eyes to her father. “I was angry and I was wrong, Dad. I see that now. If I could go back and—”

Noel held up a hand to still her words. “We can't go backward. However, I accept your apology and I thank you for it.”

Verona finally saw his wisdom. He had regrets. She had regrets, but there was no do-over. There was only tomorrow.

“I'm not trying to rub it in, but, Verona, I must ask. If you felt we took Elijah from you as a teen, why didn't you try to do something when you became an adult? We couldn't have stopped you, then,” Noel said.

“I don't know,” she stammered, trying to recover from the truth-punch to her gut. She had never tried to contact the Smith's or even see her son. Verona could not blame her parents for that.

“I'm only pointing that out because I want you to let the past go. Don't you think Elijah is wondering why, if you loved him, you did nothing to reach out to him? Especially since you're a big-time attorney.”

“He hasn't asked,” she said, biting her lip.

“Not all children speak their minds, Tiger. Some keep these thoughts bottled up inside them and then poof! It all blows up in your face. If I were you, I'd talk to him.”

“Has he said anything to you?”

“Not in so many words, but even if Jah had said something, I wouldn't break confidence. I'm not going to do your job for you. Just as I have to answer to you, you have to answer to Elijah. You've got to sit in the hot seat and take the heat. You can't run from this one.”

Her father had read her left, right, and center and she was torn up inside. Verona had gone through her life stuck at seventeen, failing to realize the tables would turn one day. She now had a child who could resent her if she did not communicate.

She squirmed as the difficulty of the conversation she must have with Elijah hit her with full force. “I'm scared,” she confessed.

“Good. You should be.”

In spite of the tough talk, Verona smiled. “Those were the words Elijah said to me the other day on the phone. ‘You should be.' I was saying something and that's how he responded.”