He was home. The crowd had left. His parents had left on Thursday morning; Vivian’s parents, the Stanfords, had left earlier today. Vivian had shooed the members of Kingdom Citizens Christian Center out of her house an hour ago and now here she sat with just the immediate Montgomery clan: Derrick, D2, and Elisia. After placing the relatively simple meal that the church mothers had prepared on the table—lasagna, salad, and Texas toast—Vivian asked, “Who would like to lead us in prayer?” “I will,” Derrick Jr. replied. Vivian hid her smile. She’d expected no less than little preacher man to step up to the plate, especially when it involved a prayer of thanksgiving for his dad. The family joined hands. “Heavenly Father, I want to thank you for healing my dad. Thank you, God, for saving his life . . . and for holding the doctor’s hands through his surgery. Thank you, Father God, for bringing him back to our family, so that he can see us grow up and...”—Derrick’s voice broke—“stay in our lives.
