Chad sat at the kitchen island still in deep thought. His phone rang again. It was Bryan.

“Hey, Chad, how are you holding up?”

“Still numb—I mean, I knew this day was coming, but it doesn’t make it any less hard,” Chad responded.

“I know,” Bryan said. “Um, Gretchen and I felt you should reach out to Donte.”

“Why me?” Chad asked.

“Well because, between all of us, you were the one he seemed to have latched onto,” Bryan said.

In the past two months of knowing about Donte’s existence, he and Chad had become close. Donte wanted answers and Chad was intrigued by the whole situation.

“I’ll tell him,” Chad said.

“What else is wrong,” Bryan asked. He could tell there was something bothering his brother that didn’t have to do with their mother’s passing.

“Quisha,” Chad started.

“What has she done now?” Bryan asked.

“She’s gone…and she’s pregnant,” Chad said.

“Didn’t I tell you to wrap it up? I see you have Mom’s rebel gene,” Bryan half-joked.

“I’m not in a joking mood,” Chad said.

“So, what do you plan to do about it?” Bryan asked.

“I don’t know,” was all Chad said. “Look, I’ve had a trying day. I need to get off the phone.” Chad hung up, irritated. He thought about his dead mother, his long—lost brother and his missing wife. He pushed Quisha to the back of his mind momentarily and called Donte.

“Hey, man,” Donte said.

“Hey,” Chad started. “Um, I don’t know how to say this so I will just be blunt, Mom, um, our Mom is—” Chad was cut off.

“Gone?” Donte finished for him. Donte took a deep breath. He was glad that he did get to meet and see her before it was too late.

“When is the funeral?” Donte asked.

“This all just happened. I will let you know when arrangements have been made,” Chad said before hanging up.

* * *

“You expecting a call from somebody?” Quisha’s mother asked as Quisha sat in the living room by the window with her hand over her cell phone.

“No, why did you ask that?” Quisha asked and took her hand off the phone.

“No reason,” her mother responded and sat across from her. “Instead of moping around the house, why don’t you go visit some old friends? You think you’ll move back here?”

The friends that Quisha wanted to see came to see her. Tamla had to know she was in town, but she didn’t reach out to her.

“I don’t want to move back here, Mama,” Quisha started. “I mean, my life is ok where I am,” she finished and went back into her thoughts.

“Baby,” her mother said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, about what Mama?” Quisha asked and looked over at her mother. In her twenty-plus years on this earth, her mother had never apologized to her.

“About…Dennis and Gary.”

Quisha’s eyes widened.

“Dennis and Gary?” she reiterated.

“Baby, I didn’t want to be alone. You’re an adult now, so you know, we be needing some companionship. Her mother stopped then added. “I ignored the warning signs about them. I’m so sorry.”

Quisha sat there stunned, looking at her mother. She had long forgiven her mother, but the scars of her mother choosing Dennis and Gary over her still stung.

“I forgive you,” Quisha heard herself saying.

Her mother breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

A few days later

Quisha was in better spirits and had no idea that Elizabeth Allencourt had passed. She also had not heard from Chad and it was just as well; she was still a little hurt and in the dark about the game he was playing.

Meanwhile, back in Michigan Chad was coming down to the kitchen for breakfast. His heart was still heavy with the planning of his mother’s funeral and the fact that he still had not heard from Quisha. When he went over to the faucet to start a pot of coffee he spotted Quisha’s short note. It read

And the address of where she was staying was scribbled below. Finally, some weight was lifted off of him. It was all the challenge he needed to go after the woman he wanted.