Firestone (31 page)

Heather nodded.

“
I’ll call you in the
morning!” Heather said. She gave him a big smile, and he returned
hers. She was hanging up when he said something. “What?”

“
I’ve spent a lot of time
alone — years and years, most of my childhood, really,” Blane said.
His eyes welled with tears. “But for the first time in my entire
life, I know that I may be by
myself . . .”

He nodded.

“
But, I’m not alone,”
Blane said.

For a moment, they just looked at each
other. He smiled.

“
I’ll see you in a month,
and we’ll get on with our life,” Blane said.

“
I’ll see you tomorrow,”
Heather laughed, and clicked off.

She stared at the computer for a long time
before turning to Tanesha.

“
Ice cream, chocolate, or
brownies?” Tanesha said.

“
Do I have to choose?”
Heather’s words were watery with her tears.

“
Not a chance,” Jill
said.

Heather went with Jill and Tanesha to get
something to ease this horrible lost feeling.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday afternoon — 1:23 p.m.

Tanesha had waited through the long church
service. At Gran’s house, she’d laughed when Gran gave Jeraine a
bad time. He’d left as if in a huff, but returned a few minutes
later with the cinnamon rolls she’d asked for. Gran had grumbled,
but seemed happy that her husband was “learning his place.”

Tanesha had waited until she was sitting
next to Jeraine’s mother at Gran’s table. She had waited through
her Gran’s long grace, which included special prayers for each
individual at the table.

When the food started being passed around
the table, Tanesha couldn’t wait any longer.

“
Mrs. Wilson?” Tanesha
asked Dionne.

Her mother-in-law turned to look at her.

“
Did you ever actually see
Annette’s child?” Tanesha asked.

“
Jabari?” Dionne asked.
“Not until he arrived here. Why?”

“
Mom thinks he’s younger
than four,” Tanesha said.

“
She does?” Dionne looked
surprised. She glanced at Bumpy.

“
I guess I’m wondering if
you’ve seen any pictures of Annette when she was pregnant or even a
picture of the baby when it was born
or . . .?”

Tanesha realized that conversation at the
table had stopped. Her crazy Aunt Phy was giving her the stink eye
from across the table. Tanesha smiled at her aunt, and she grinned
back.

“
No,” Yvonne said. “We
filed for grandparents’ rights the moment we learned she was
pregnant. I guess I figured . . .”

“
What if she lost the
baby?” Tanesha asked. “Or wasn’t ever pregnant?”

“
What about Jabari?” Bumpy
asked.

“
Yvonne thinks he’s
younger than four,” Dionne said to her husband.

“
So what?” Gran asked.
“The dog probably impregnated her again. Big deal.”

Jeraine shook his head at Gran.

“
He says he didn’t,”
Tanesha said.

“
Once a dog, always a
dog,” Gran said.

“
I’m sitting right here!”
Jeraine said.

“
A dog at my table,” Gran
said. Her words were accompanied by a bitter shake of her head. “I
never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“
Woof, woof,” crazy Aunt
Phy started to bark.

Jeraine joined her barking. Everyone laughed
while Gran scowled. When the laughter died down, everyone focused
on the meal. Ten minutes passed before Dionne touched Tanesha’s
hand.

“
What are you thinking?”
Dionne asked.

“
I’m thinking that she
told Jer she was pregnant to get back at him,” Tanesha said. “Stick
it to him for dumping her and take his money. Then when the reality
show started, she realized she needed a baby.”

“
But they tested his DNA,”
Bumpy said.

“
Against Jeraine’s,”
Tanesha said.

“
Not Annette’s,” Dionne
said.

They fell silent again. The conversation
turned to the upcoming football game, and the mood around the table
lightened. It wasn’t until they were leaving that Dionne took
Tanesha aside.

“
So Jer paid her for a
child that didn’t exist,” Dionne said.

“
It seems possible,”
Tanesha said. “He was high and what have you for a long
time.”

“
He wouldn’t know or miss
the money.” Dionne nodded and looked away for a moment. When she
looked back, she asked, “Do you think she purchased this
child?”

“
I wouldn’t put it past
her,” Tanesha said.

“
Well.” Dionne nodded.
“Thank you.”

“
For what?”

“
You’ve answered a
question we’ve had for a long, long time,” Dionne said. “Why would
that witch care if we were in contact with our
grandchild?”

“
He didn’t exist, that’s
why,” Tanesha said.

“
The first time we saw him
was on that wretched television show.” Dionne said. “I’ve watched
it just to see him.”

“
Unfortunately, there
isn’t much we can do about it,” Tanesha said. “We’re sure to get
custody tomorrow. Then it’s kind of over.”

“
Not for us,” Dionne said.
“We can do something about this.”

“
What would you
do?”

“
We’ll ask for her DNA,”
Dionne said.

“
How . . .?”

“
We set up a fund to help
support our grandchildren,” Dionne said. “I put all my recording
profits into the fund for Jeraine Junior, Jabari, and La Tonya’s
children. It’s not a small amount. She’s used most of her half.
When she was here she asked when I’d get my next royalty
check.”

Tanesha nodded.

“
I have a right to know
that she’s the mother of my grandchild,” Dionne said.

“
I bet she’s not,” Tanesha
said.

Dionne nodded. There was a noise in the
kitchen, and Jeraine trotted out of the back of the house.

“
We should go,” he
said.

Laughing and cursing, Gran came running
after him. Tanesha watched them leave the house.

“
Well, I
should . . .” Tanesha pointed.

Dionne gave her a hug and Tanesha went
across the street. When she got there Jeraine and Gran were
hugging, like they did every Sunday. Gran gave him the stink eye
and walked back across the street.

“
Are they going to do
something?” Jeraine asked.

Tanesha nodded.

“
Good,” he said. “Let’s go
see the boy.”

“
I need to study,” Tanesha
said.

“
Okay,” Jeraine said.
“I’ll go, and we’ll see you tonight at your mom’s
house.”

Tanesha kissed him goodbye and went into the
house. Intent on studying, she brought her books to their kitchen
table and turned on her laptop. Unable to stop herself, she
searched the Internet for a photo, any photo, of Annette pregnant
with Jabari. She found many images of her pregnant with her second
and third son. She found images of Annette’s mansion and her
closet, but nothing about Jabari until she joined the reality
television show.

Tanesha looked at the clock and realized
that she’d lost an hour of precious study time. Nodding to herself,
she closed her laptop and got to work.

Sunday night — 10:12 p.m.

“
You’re sure?” Aden asked
in a low voice.

Sandy nodded. He leaned up from their warm
bed to watch her pull on a thick sweater and her fleece pants.

“
You’ll come to get me if
it’s overwhelming?” Aden asked.

Sandy nodded.

“
Promise?” Aden
asked.

Sandy nodded.

“
Say it,” Aden
said.

“
I promise to come get you
if going through Andy’s box is overwhelming,” Sandy
said.

“
You’ll stay just right
here?” Aden asked what he’d asked before.

“
I brought the box up,”
Sandy said. She picked up the heavy box from her closet. “I’ll sit
in the living room and start going through it.”

Aden gave her a searching look.

“
I just feel
like . . . I have to know,” Sandy said. “I have to
know.”

“
Tonight?” Aden
asked.

Sandy nodded.

“
You’ll come to get me if
it’s overwhelming?” Aden repeated out of worry.

She gave him a sly smile, and he nodded. She
walked to the door with the box and realized she couldn’t open the
door. She looked at him. He got out of bed to help her with the
door. She smiled and went out into the living room. She set Andy’s
box down on the coffee table in front of the couch and went into
their small kitchen. For courage, she made a cup of Tanesha’s
special tea blend and carried it out into the living room.

She set her teacup on the coffee table and
plopped down on the couch. She looked at the box. It was a fairly
ordinary cardboard box. It had once stored reams of white paper,
the kind you put in copiers or printers or fax machines. It didn’t
say “inkjet” or “laser” on the box, so Sandy figured the box must
be old. She picked up her tea and leaned back.

Her mind wandered.

Should she have another baby? Rachel was
just starting to move around a little bit. Of course, they’d hoped
to get married at the Cathedral this summer. With everything going
on, she’d lost enough weight to fit into Andy’s dress. Honey and MJ
had already finished their marriage classes. She should make a note
to call and schedule classes for herself and Aden.

It would be fun to have a little boy baby, a
little Celt baby. She smiled, remembering those silly gargoyles’
horror at Aden being Celtic. Jill’s twins would be her son’s best
friends. Heather and Blane’s son, too. Of course, that would mean
they had six mouths to feed, not to mention Teddy, who wanted to
come back to live with them this summer. She bit her lip and
wondered if Teddy and Noelle were getting too old to spend the
summers together.

Sandy yawned and thought about going back to
bed. She’d almost talked herself into it when she saw Andy’s box
again.

Plain old cardboard box.
Once held reams of paper. For a copier, no less. Or a
fax
machine. Her fingers
traced the word “fax” on the outside of the box. Valerie hadn’t
packed this box. This box had arrived just as it was — an old
cardboard box with old technology stamped on the
outside.

She glanced at her bedroom door.

Maybe she should just go back to bed.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She
remembered how hard Tanesha’s life was right now. She had medical
school, and Jeraine — who no matter how reformed was a pain in the
rear — and now a stepson, not to mention her mother and father and
Gran and . . . Sandy shook her head at all of the
challenges on Tanesha’s plate right now.

And poor Heather. Sandy and Jill had spent
the morning trying to keep Heather from falling apart. Sandy
wondered how she’d handle it if Aden were in the hospital like
Blane. She wouldn’t handle it very well, that’s for sure. Jill was
managing to cope with her magic inclined twins. Jacob, Aden, Sam —
they were leading Lipson every day and . . .

All Sandy had to do was look in this
box.

She lifted the lid with her bare foot, and
the most amazing smell came out.

Sandy picked up the lid and held it to her
nose. She took a deep inhale and smelled . . .

 
. . . home
and love and being important and sunshine and flowers and being
enough and joy and being heard and peace and hope and being, just
being, . . . and . . .
and . . . and . . . being
happy.

It smelled like Andy.

Sandy opened her eyes and looked into the
box. The wire binding to an old photo album was stuck opening down
along one side of the box. In the middle of the box was a stack of
bound books. There were a few other things tucked around the books.
Nothing looked too scary.

She turned her attention to the books. They
looked like the kind of books Noelle used sometimes to sketch
things or the ones Jill used in her interior design classes. Sandy
reached in to pick up a book and saw a small white knitted cap. Her
fingers instinctively picked up the soft fabric. This must have
been her cap. She held it to her nose.

“
Andy,” she
whispered.

Inside the rim of the little cap, someone
had stitched “My beloved Sandy” in blue thread. Sandy smiled.
Setting the cap on her lap, she picked up one of the books and
found . . .

She wasn’t sure.

They looked like journals,
but . . . there were drawings and songs and pressed
flowers and photos and . . . The hand was fragmented
and unclear. This wasn’t language. It was . . . She
had no idea.

Sandy looked at the book in her hand. This
volume wasn’t dated. She pulled out the next book and the one after
that.

No dates.

The last volume, tucked all the way at the
bottom, was dated the day Sandy had gone to see Andy at the
assisted living facility.

Dear Sandy,

If you’re like me, and I’d bet you are, you
probably looked at the other journals and want to read this one
first.

Don’t.

This journal won’t make any sense to you
unless you look at the others.