Chapter 3: She Knew Their Names
I opened the door.
She was older than me by maybe twenty years.
Light brown coat, sensible shoes, a canvas bag over one shoulder.
No makeup.
Hair pulled back tight.
She had the look of a woman who had driven a long way and was not going to pretend otherwise.
"Are you Renee?" she said.
I tightened my grip on the door frame.
"Who's asking?"
"My name is Carol." She paused.
"I'm Marcus's mother."
The name landed somewhere behind my sternum.
Marcus.
My boyfriend.
The man already at the gate.
The man who had stopped typing back.
"He never told me about you," I said.
"I know." She didn't look surprised.
"He doesn't tell people about me when it's convenient not to."
Jaylen appeared at my hip.
He looked up at her with the careful attention of a child who has learned to read a room.
"Hi," he said.
Carol looked down at him and something moved across her face — not pity, something older than that.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said quietly.
Then she looked back at me.
"Can I come in?
I'm not here to cause trouble.
I'm here because Marcus called me two days ago and told me what he was planning, and I got in my car."
"He called you?"
"He told me he was taking you on a trip and leaving the children with your aunt." She glanced past me toward the empty living room.
"I'm guessing that didn't work out."
I stepped back from the door.
She came in slowly, the way people do when they're not sure of their welcome.
She set her bag down near the couch and looked at Mia still sleeping in the carrier.
Her jaw tightened.
"How old?" she said.
"Eight months."
She nodded.
She didn't say anything for a moment.
"Sit down," I said, because I didn't know what else to say.
We sat.
Jaylen positioned himself between us with the instinct of a child who wants to understand the situation before committing to either side.
"What did Marcus tell you exactly?" I said.
"That you were going to Miami.
That it was a long weekend.
That the kids were handled." She folded her hands in her lap.
"He said it like it was already done."
"It wasn't done.
He never even asked Aunt Diane.
He just assumed."
Carol looked at me steadily.
"That's what he does."
Something in the way she said it — flat, certain, without anger — told me she had been saying that sentence, or some version of it, for a very long time.
"Why did you drive here?" I said.
"You could have called."
"I did call.
You didn't pick up."
I checked my phone.
One missed call, unknown number, forty minutes ago.
I had been too busy staring at Marcus's silence to notice anything else.
"I drove because I wanted to see for myself," Carol said.
"I wanted to see if he'd actually done it."
"Done what?"
She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
She held it for a moment without opening it.
"Before I show you this," she said, "I need you to understand that I am not your enemy.
I know you don't know me.
I know this is strange.
But what I'm about to tell you — I should have told you a long time ago, and I didn't, and I'm sorry for that."
Jaylen looked up at her.
"Are you going to make my mama cry?"
Carol looked at him for a long moment.
"I hope not," she said.
"I'm trying to stop that from happening."
She unfolded the paper and placed it on the cushion between us.
I looked down.
It was a photograph, printed on plain white paper.
Marcus at a table I didn't recognize.
Across from him, a woman I had never seen.
Between them, two children — a boy and a girl, maybe four and six years old.
The boy had Marcus's eyes.
"When was this taken?" My voice came out very level.
I was proud of that.
"Fourteen months ago," Carol said.
"In Atlanta."
Mia made a small sound in her carrier.
I reached over automatically and adjusted the strap without looking away from the photograph.
"He has another family," I said.
It wasn't a question.
"He has another woman," Carol said carefully.
"Whether he's been honest with her either — I don't know.
But those children are his.
He's been sending money there since before you and he got together."
The flight.
Miami.
The gate he was already standing at.
"Is she in Miami?" I said.
May you like
Carol didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
