Broken: The sequel to THE PREACHER'S SON Page 14

  “What do you care? You don’t like black girls, remember?” Eric picked up the other baby.

  Matthew gave him a dirty look. “Look, I was just making conversation, OK? You gave me grief about being careful with Max. I was just concerned.”

  Eric held Derika and reached over to Matthew and wiped Erika’s mouth with her bib.

  “Why don’t you cut the crap and admit that you are jealous that another man was over here to see Max?” he asked directly. “I know you didn’t come over here to bond with me or these babies. You came over here to see Max.”

  Matt immediately tensed up, and Erika began to cry and try to get down from his lap “What’ll I do now?” he said, trying not to panic.

  “Put her down in the play pen.”

  Erika stopped crying, and Matthew gave a sigh of relief.

  “Everything all right in here,” Nadine asked, peeking around the corner from the kitchen.

  “Everything’s fine,” Eric responded with a smile.

  “Look, Matthew,” Eric start. “What’s so bad about wanting to be with Max? Are you so afraid of what other people are going to say? Times are changing. People don’t look down on interracial relationships like they used to.”

  “Things aren’t changing that fast,” Matt growled. “People were staring when we were out together. I plan to run for the Horry County Council seat next year. I have my future to think about. Sure, I’m attracted to Max, but she’s not my future. I need an acceptable woman by my side.”

  “I can’t believe you,” Eric said, shaking his head. “You’re all about appearances. So you’d rather be with some presentable woman that you don’t love and just let Max go, or better yet try to keep up the old family tradition that Grandma told Jeremy about and just have a black woman on the side!”

  “I’m not saying that! I’m not going to do that. That’s why I told Max that there was no future for us. I think it’s better that we don’t get involved. I haven’t lied to her. It’s better if we just remain friends. It’s best if we don’t get in over our heads.”

  “Better for whom?” Eric asked looking at him as he put Derika back in the playpen with Erika. “If you are so sure that you don’t want to be with her, then why are you here? Don’t even tell me that lie that you wanted to see me and these babies. I know better. You held that baby all of two seconds, if that!”

  Matthew looked down at the babies. “I don’t know. I don’t understand it myself.”

  “Well, I do,” Eric said firmly. “You’re hooked and sinking fast. You’ve already fallen for her. Why not admit it?”

  “No it’s just a passing feeling. Jungle fever, I guess.”

  Eric looked at him and laughed. “You are such a punk. Jungle fever indeed! If you had any control, you wouldn’t even be over here. You are in denial, my brother. You had better make up your mind what you want because she’s not going to be sitting on a lily pad waiting for you to become Prince Charming and come by and kiss all her problems away.”

  “I don’t want a relationship with her. It’ll be too complicated,” he said, staring at Eric, careful to keep his voice low so that the women couldn’t hear. “It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything. Sure I find her attractive, but that’s the case with a lot of women. It’s just a passing phase.”

  “Do you want what you think is acceptable and easy, or do you want what will make you happy?” Eric asked, also keeping his voice low. “Do you want a woman with passion, or do you want to just go through the motions? When you make the connection with the right woman, you know it. Are you willing to be happy if Max is the woman for you?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Happiness is so much better, but some things you have to find out for yourself. So I say go on and get your lily-white Miss Perfect. Take your political pictures with her by your side, and get in your cold bed at night. Grit your teeth and think of Max as you are making love to her. Just don’t call Max’s name out loud while you’re doing it, though. Things might get ugly.”

  “Shut up!” Matt said, jumping up as if he’d been slapped. “You don’t know everything! It was a mistake coming over here. I’m getting the hell out of here right now.”

  Eric grabbed his brother’s arm as he headed toward the door. “You can run but you can’t hide, Matt. You want Max. I can see it, and she can see it. Do you really want to settle for another woman while you are secretly lusting after her?”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he hissed, then snatched himself from Eric’s grip and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Eric stared at the closed door, completely amused by his brother’s hasty exit.

  Rogers sat in Warden Trentwood’s office. He wondered if he had been summoned because there was more information on his parole hearing.

  The warden walked into his office and nodded at the guards, who quickly exited his office.

  “Everything is set,” Trentwood said, looking at Rogers. “I had to pull some strings, but I’ve made sure that Maxine James and her family won’t be here for the parole hearing.”

  “What did you do?” Rogers asked, the chains on his hands and legs clanking loudly as he shifted in his seat.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Trentwood replied. “The point is that I’m doing you a favor and I need a favor from you once you get out of here.”

  “What’s that?” Rogers asked, sitting up straight.

  “If all goes well, I’m going to have you transferred to a facility in Aynor, which is a halfway house run by a man that owes me big time. I need someone there who can look out for my interests. I get a percentage from him for every inmate that stays at that facility. I have a feeling that he’s cooking the numbers a bit. That’s where you come in. I need a head count from you. If a new person is placed there, I need to know it. If someone leaves, I need to know that too. If the numbers you come up with differ from what he’s telling me, well, let’s just say I’ll deal with it.”

  Rogers stared at the warden. He had to give it to him, he seemed to have game inside and out of the prison.

  “Sure, Warden,” he replied, nodding.

  “Good.” The warden stood up. “I don’t think we’re going to have any problem with you getting parole. You just keep your nose clean, understand?”

  “Understood.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Listen to counsel and receive instruction, that you may be wise in your latter days. Proverbs 19:20

  Matthew left Eric’s house thinking about what his brother had said to him. How his words had stung. How he wanted to refute Eric, but he couldn’t.

  Matt knew that he didn’t want to be involved with Max, but he also knew that seeing her with someone else had upset him more than he cared to admit. It troubled him that his head and his heart were at war. He had seen girls he dated in the past with other men, and it hadn’t bothered him in the least. He hadn’t been expecting such a strong reaction of seeing that man sitting at the table next to Max or the jealousy that consumed him when Jeremiah put his arm around Max right before his eyes.

  What was he going to do? Damn her! Had she totally forgotten about their time together and latched on to this Jeremiah character? Matthew began to torment himself, imagining Jeremiah kissing her, touching her, making love to her. His guts were in knots. She was his. No one would have her but him!

  He knew he was being irrational. He found himself driving around, not knowing where he was going. He ended up in Surfside Beach, where Grandma Nellie lived. Normally he didn’t talk to anyone about his personal business, but he needed some answers.

  He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d say to his grandmother, but he knew this all started with her, and that Grandma Nellie wouldn’t judge him. He walked into her assisted living facility and buzzed her room.

  “Hello?” her voice asked through the intercom.

  “Hi, Grandma. May I come up for a visit?”

  “My lands! One of my babies is coming to
visit me!” she exclaimed before she buzzed him in. He walked into the elevator that led up to her apartment, and she was standing in the doorway when he reached her.

  “Jeremy?” she questioned looking at him. “I didn’t know you were in town! Where’s your wife?”

  “No, Grandma,” he said. “It’s Matt.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, smiling. “Jeremy has blue eyes. Matt, what a surprise! Come in!”

  Matthew waited until she closed the door behind him. Her apartment was always tidy, and she led him to the living room and then turned around. She stood before him, her white hair pulled back in a ponytail, and smiled at him, showing her perfectly white teeth. Matthew was amazed that a woman her age still had all of her natural teeth and didn’t have to wear dentures. She had told him that taking care of her teeth had always been a priority, and he could see that it paid off.

  She pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”

  Matthew sat down not and took a moment to begin. “Grandma, I want to ask you about the stories you told Jeremy, you know, about the Ferguson men.”

  His grandmother smiled as she sat across from him. “What about it?”

  “Well, there’s this girl…” Matthew’s voice trailed off. “I am just trying to figure out how much truth is in these stories you’ve been telling. There’s this girl that, well, I can’t get her out of my head.”

  “A colored girl? You like a colored girl, right?”

  He looked at his hands “Look, Grandma, I like her, but I’ve always felt that I should be with my own kind. I know that I shouldn’t be with her. That’s the way I was raised. Surely you understand that. You’re from the old school. Whites should be with whites and blacks with blacks, right?”

  “Who are you trying to convince,” she said, laughing. “You Fergusons have always married white if that’s what you’re asking. On the other hand, you Fergusons have had your share of colored women too.”

  “Grandma, you’re not helping,” he sighed throwing up his hands. “I mean, it’s not some genetic thing that draws me to this woman, is it? I should be able to control my feelings and choose an acceptable wife, but I can’t seem to get over her.”

  “When I grew up everyone was saying that, you know, whites with whites and coloreds with coloreds, but people were still sneaking around, your family especially. Course, I understood because it wasn’t legal. It’s legal now.” She laughed. “You can’t help who you’re attracted to.”

  “I don’t want to sneak around. But I’ve already announced to everyone that I want to be with my own kind. The fact that I didn’t support Jeremy is well known, and also publically I’ve said a few things about Eric’s marriage. How can I now tell people that I want to be with this woman after all the things I’ve said?”

  “What kind is that?” Grandma asked, laughing. “Matthew, you can’t help how you feel. You’ve been liking colored girls since you were knee-high to a duck. In nursery school you were always feeling their hair and kissing the little colored girls in your class. Why fight it? It’s more acceptable now.”

  “Acceptable to whom, Grandma? I plan to run for the Horry County Seat next spring. I want a wife that my constituents will accept.”

  “Well, if your mind is made up, son, what do you want me to tell you?” She shrugged her shoulders and stood up. “You want something to drink? I got some tea in the ice box.”

  “No thanks. But, Grandma, I still want her,” he confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

  “Who? The colored girl?” She looked at him and shook her head.

  Matt nodded not looking at Grandma Nellie. “I came here hoping to make some sense of all this.”

  “Well, you are going to have to make up your mind what’s more important,” Grandma said. “I can’t help you with that. You will have to follow your head or follow your heart. You have to swallow your pride and apologize to your cousin and brother for the things you’ve said and tell them that now you understand how they feel because you feel the same way.”

  She stopped talking and looked at him solemnly. “You were prejudiced against colored people, plain and simple. I’m ninety years old, and I know prejudice. I’ve seen it. My father was German, and, you know, when the war came, all Germans were bad even though my father was an American citizen. He had an accent and he was German, so he was bad news in some people’s eyes—me too, in fact. It was worse for him because he had that accent and people knew, and he wasn’t treated right because of it.”

  “That was different, Grandma.”

  “Nope. Same thing. You need to repent. Your heart was not right. It needs to be redeemed, and the only way for that to happen is for you to ask for forgiveness for those things you said against colored people because now you want a colored woman.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” Matt protested.

  Well, It’s your decision, son. Follow your head or follow your heart. Sounds like you gonna be miserable until you settle this thing. You’re going to have to choose.”

  Matt didn’t reply. She walked over to where he was sitting and kissed him on the head. He looked up at her.

  “You were always such a good boy, so full of love. You loved kissing and hugging. I can’t see you with a woman you’re not in love with. You will be miserable. You think about that,” she stressed. “This thing that you feel in your head was put there by your daddy, but your heart showed your true feelings when you were just a toddler. I knew then what you liked, so it’s no surprise to me.”

  She watched him a moment as he continued to look at his hands but didn’t say anything.

  “You Ferguson men are so passionate!” she continued. “You do everything with gusto. It’s just your nature. I see it in Jeremy, and I see it in you and Eric too. You can’t help who your heart chooses. Now, my William was a passionate man. When things aren’t right in the bedroom, things are not right with them anywhere else, and they get so cranky! Jeremy looks just like my William with those blue eyes of his, but you sound just like him. You have his voice. I bet when you were with all those other girls you knew that they weren’t right for you, am I right?”

  “Yes,” he mumbled, his voice low.

  She laughed, shaking her head at him.

  “You’d better think about that while you are making your decision. All you Fergusons are not the type of men that can lie down at night beside a woman that they don’t really want. It won’t work,” she said, touching his shoulder. “You can try all you want to, but if that woman is the one for you, I can tell you that you won’t get over her easily.”

  Matt had heard enough. He stood up and walked to the door, her words disturbing him further. He had hoped for some type of clarity, some kind of comfort from her, but her words only made him feel worse. He opened the door and looked back at her, watching him.

  “Boy, if you want that girl, you better go on and get her,” Grandma Nellie said. “Ain’t no use making yourself miserable. Everyone deserves happiness, you know.”

  “Thanks, Grandma. See you later.”

  He walked back to the car still undecided as to what he was going to do. There had to be some other woman out there who was a good fit for him. Yet he knew that he could have her if he would just lay down his pride and tell everyone that he had been wrong for what he’d said before.

  He thought again about Jeremiah. Maybe this man could make Max happy. The thought of Max’s being with some other man ate at his insides. He decided to head home and get himself a much-needed drink.

  Deacon Jennings sat across from Reverend Ferguson at the table for a special meeting with several other deacons.

  “Look, Reverend,” he began. “I know you thought that you were doing a good thing bringing that preacher in here, but he’s so different from what we’re used to. I’ve been talking to the deacons, and we think it’s best if you don’t invite him back here again.”

  “Look, our congregation is dying off. We’ve got to reach out to the community, all of the commun
ity, not just the white community,” Reverend Ferguson said, trying to be patient. “Reverend Fleming was well received here at our church. The people were blessed.”

  “I know that you are all liberal now that your son and nephew have married one of them, but to bring them into the pulpit is another thing altogether. Then your nephew’s wife running around the church was totally disruptive! She was acting like one of them crazy Pentecostals!”

  Reverend Ferguson looked at the other deacons, who were nodding in agreement.

  He knew that they didn’t feel that they were prejudiced or that their feelings were racist. Indeed, if he pointed that out, they’d become defensive.

  “Deacon Jennings, I have a question for you. Was it disruptive when your son Aaron came to the front of the church and fell on his knees crying that Sunday? What is the difference between what happened in that service and what happened with Janice?”

  Deacon Jennings drew up. “My boy was just overcome by the Spirit. He wouldn’t talk to me about it. I assumed that he was just dealing with something at school.”

  Revered Ferguson stared at him a moment and then looked at the others. “He was dealing with something, just like Janice was dealing with something. Every week people come to church dealing with something. We cannot cut them off because we are not comfortable with it. You can’t OK it on one hand because it’s your family and complain about someone else on the other.”

  Deacon Jennings did not reply, and he looked at the other deacons.

  “Deacon Whitaker,” Ferguson continued. “You know yourself that, when your wife lost her mother, she couldn’t stop crying. I stopped service and asked the mothers of the church to surround her, and we prayed for her. We changed the order of the service because of that, but there was nothing wrong with what I did. People have to be ministered to when they need it, not when it’s convenient.”

  Deacon Whitaker nodded in agreement. “That’s true.”

  “As for my son marrying ‘one of them,’ his wife is a Christian woman, which is all the requirement that the bible gives us as Christians,” Reverend Ferguson said with a look at Deacon Jennings. “Times are changing, gentlemen. This generation does not care about race like ours did. Now we have received a blessing from the word of God given by the Man of God today.”