I know this is hard for her. “She is.” I stand and offer her my hand. “Let’s go eat.” I help her from the couch and to the kitchen table, ordering her to sit while I make her a plate. However, my mom is there, placing a plate in front of her.
“What would you like to drink? We have orange juice, water, milk, and I just put on a pot of coffee.” Mom’s eyes are kind as they settle on Delaney. Is that sadness I see? Worry? I can’t describe the look she’s giving her. I make a mental note to talk to her later.
“Orange juice, please, but I can get it,” Delaney answers.
She tries to stand, but my mother holds up her hand to stop her. “No. You sit. You need your rest. Let me get it.”
“Thank you, Georgia.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Mom says, placing a glass of orange juice on the table in front of her.
Plates are emptied, and more drinks are poured as we sit around the table and talk. Kendrix carries most of the conversation. She’s not leaving a single detail unturned as she tells us about her time at my parents’ house.
Sitting back in my chair, I take it all in. My parents, my girls, all of us together. My family. I will forever mourn the time that I missed with them, but looking toward our future, this is what it’s about. Moments in time when we’re all together. She’s staying. I don’t have to worry about leaving the people I care about the most. I hate that my girls never had this—a strong support system, but they do now. I can’t wait to see how our future unfolds.* * *“I need to call Mr. Garcia in the morning. With everything that happened yesterday, I didn’t get to find out why he needed to talk to me,” Delaney says as we’re lying in bed Sunday night.
We finally got Kendrix to sleep in her room after three stories. I have no doubt she’s going to end up in bed with us before the night is over. I need to get to work on setting her room up so she’s more enticed to sleep there. She’s never going to get any siblings if she keeps sleeping between us.
“He gave me something to give to you. I forgot about it until now. Hold on.” Climbing out of bed, I make my way to the living room and grab the envelope from my coat pocket. I peek in on Kendrix, who is still sleeping soundly before heading back to our bedroom. “Here.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. He just told me to give it to you when you were up to it. He stopped by the hospital to check on you and handed it to me. I forgot about it until now.”
She sits up in bed, resting her back against the headboard, and takes the envelope from my hands. I sit next to her on the edge of the bed, my hand on her thigh as I give her silent support. I can only assume that the letter is going to be from her father. Carefully, she opens the envelope and pulls out a folded sheet of paper and begins to read it out loud.Delaney,My darling daughter. I have too much to tell you, and yet as I sit here, I struggle to find the words. I have advised my attorney to not give you this letter until you’d had time to experience Jackson and the people who live here. Jackson holds a special place in my heart and always will. I don’t know how I knew, but I had a feeling that I would need to insist on you visiting before selling, and I hope with all of my heart that you’ve found the missing piece of your past.
I don’t really know how else to start other than to rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak. Here goes. If you’re reading this, that means I’ve gone from this earth, resting with your grandparents and my love… your mother. There I said it. Tillie Nottingham is not your mother. I’m sorry that you are finding out like this, but I couldn’t ever seem to find the courage to tell you in person. I didn’t want to see the hurt or the disappointment in your eyes. Please don’t hate me.
I’m sure you have many questions, and I’ll do my best to clear them up for you now. Tillie and I were dating in college when she told me she was pregnant. I wasn’t in love with her, but I wanted to do the right thing, Nottinghams always do the right thing. So I married her. Two months later, I was faced with the realization that she faked her pregnancy. The ink had long been signed on our marriage license, and I was at a loss. I was angry and hurt. In addition to that, I was young, but I wanted to be a father. I had grown fond of the idea and was crushed to find out the baby I had grown to love didn’t exist.