“We don’t know, ma’am. The doctor should be able to tell you. We’re pulling up to the hospital right now. Since we’ve already called this in, someone will be waiting for him,” Paul told her.

  The ambulance drove over a bump as they reached the emergency entrance. Once the ambulance came to a stop, Paul opened the doors and then jumped out. Gerald unhooked the gurney and rolled it out of the ambulance. Paul pulled the legs from under the gurney and the two men rushed Ethan into the emergency room.

  Alexis put her hand on the door hinge and stretched her leg to jump down as she had watched Paul do. But Michael grabbed hold of her and helped her out of the ambulance.

  “I didn’t think you were here yet.”

  “We followed behind the ambulance. I took every red light they took. Let’s get in there.” Michael tightened his grip on her hand.

  “Yes, let’s get in there.” Alexis put an arm around Ella. She was still crying. “You okay, honey?”

  “I’m just so scared for Ethan.”

  “I know you are. We all are. Let’s just have faith and believe that he will be all right.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” Ella tried to smile, but it fell short.

  They entered the emergency room and went to the check-in desk. Michael told the woman sitting behind the desk, “We’re here for my son, Ethan Marshall. He was just wheeled in.”

  “One moment.” The woman left her desk, opened the emergency room door, and disappeared behind it.

  “Where is she going? Why didn’t she let us go in with her?” Alexis tried the emergency room door, but it was locked.

  “Calm down, Alexis. Let’s just see what she says when she comes back.”

  “No! You don’t get to tell me what to do today.” Wagging a finger in Michael’s face, she said, “I warned you. Didn’t I warn you about erecting that stone monstrosity around our pool? You wouldn’t listen, so I’m not listening to you, Michael.”

  He tried to pull her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, babe. I never meant for this to happen.”

  Gulping back tears, she looked at her husband, the man she loved, and realized she didn’t want to fight with him. She just wanted Ethan to live. “I-I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault that Ethan disobeyed us. I shouldn’t have blamed you.” She didn’t want to blame her husband for this catastrophe, but if Ethan didn’t pull through . . .

  The front desk clerk returned and walked over to them. “The doctor is working on your son now. He will be out to talk to you as soon as he can.”

  “I want to go back there with him,” Alexis demanded.

  The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. No one can be in the room right now. You will be able to see your son in a little while.”

  “What’s going on, Daddy? Why won’t they let us see Ethan?”

  Michael put a hand on Ella’s blonde head. “We will be in there with Ethan soon. We just have to trust that the doctors know what they are doing.”

  Alexis’s heart felt like it might jump out of her skin, it was beating so hard. Pointing toward the emergency room doors, she declared, “That’s our son back there. He might be scared or . . .” Gulping, her voice trailed off. “. . . Dying. We can’t just sit here and trust people we know nothing about.”

  “Be reasonable, Alexis. Neither one of us knows how to help Ethan. Only the doctors know. So let’s let them do their job. There are seats just right over there. Let’s sit down.”

  Her head was pounding. She needed ibuprofen. Alexis tried to sit down, but then Ella started crying. “I didn’t mean to leave him out there by himself. I know we’re supposed to swim together, but I was thirsty.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ella.” Michael put an arm around Ella, comforting her.

  Alexis fidgeted in her seat as if she was being attacked by killer ants. Popping out of the chair, she went back to the emergency room door. She wanted to yell at somebody. Tears fell from her eyes as she paced the floor. Her body ached from the pain she was feeling.

  Then a nurse pushed a young man toward the emergency room doors to go outside. He was in a wheelchair. Immediately, she thought of the young man she hit with her car. He was now in a wheelchair. His parents must have spent countless hours at the hospital with him as he went through one surgery after another. Standing there, watching that young man being wheeled out of the hospital, Alexis could feel how much pain she had caused the Robinson family, and it overwhelmed her. She doubled over and sobbed out loud.

  Ella and Michael ran over to her. They coaxed her back to her seat. Her chest heaved and constricted as she white-knuckled the chair. She closed her eyes, trying to blot out the pain of what had happened to her son and what she had done to another woman’s son.

  A woman in scrubs approached, and they stood up.

  Alexis tried to read her expression as she asked, “Are you Ethan’s parents?”

  Michael, Alexis, and Ella got in her personal space to hear what she had to say. Even as they did, Alexis didn’t know if her heart could take the words that were about to come out of the woman’s mouth.

  Chapter 11

  “Excuse me? You say you’re looking for whom?”

  “My baby’s daddy,” the young girl with the sad eyes said.

  When Trish first heard the girl say that she brought her baby to see his daddy, the church girl in her was ready to do the backstroke down this young girl’s throat. She wished her first thought had been to pray, but Trish wasn’t like her aunt Mabel when it came to stuff like this.

  Her great-aunt Mabel once opened her front door to two little girls, each holding on to a suitcase. They had arrived in a yellow taxicab. The cab driver handed Aunt Mabel a note and the bill for the taxi ride. One of the women Uncle Stevie had been fooling around with was tired of taking care of her children, so she sent them to Aunt Mabel with a simple note that read, “These is Stevie’s kids. Y’all can feed them better than I can.”

  Aunt Mabel raised those girls until they were full grown, then the trifflin’ mama started making noise all over town about how Mabel and Stevie stole her kids. Come to find out, only one of those girls belonged to Uncle Stevie.

  She’d always thought that her aunt was the most kind-hearted woman she’d ever known—raising her cheating husband’s extracurricular kids like that. Trish’s heart wasn’t made like that. She would have packed Dwayne’s clothes and changed the locks. Uh-uh, ain’t nobody got time for that.

  “Okay. And who is your baby’s daddy? And why do you think he’s here? ’Cause you got some nerve if you’re trying to claim your baby belongs to my husband.”

  “Huh?” Marquita shook her head. “I don’t even know your husband. Jon-Jon is my baby’s father.”

  Trish’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Jon-Jon? But Jon-Jon hasn’t left this house without me or his father in the last six months.”

  “We made this baby last summer, and our baby needs Pampers. He needs food, and I just lost my job, so it’s time for Jon-Jon to step up.”

  “You sure are sassy coming over here talking about somebody needs to step up, when my son can’t even walk right now.” Trish couldn’t help but glance over at the baby. He was a small little chocolate drop. He could barely hold his head up, and this girl had him casually resting on her hip.

  Marquita’s hoop earrings swished in the air as she crooked her neck. “I’m not trying to be rude because I really do feel sorry for what happened to Jon-Jon, but I didn’t make this baby by myself.”

  Trish glanced around to see if any of the neighbors were outside. They were getting a bit loud, and she really didn’t want anyone overhearing this conversation. She opened the door a bit wider. “Come in. Let’s talk to Jon-Jon so we can get to the bottom of this.”

  Marquita stepped inside the house. Trish closed the door while staring at the baby.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Marcus. I named him after my baby brother.”

  Trish took the young girl to the living room and asked her to have a seat. “And you might not want to hold him on your hip like that. He doesn’t look old enough to hold his head in the correct position for long.”

  Marquita smacked her lips like she didn’t like being told what to do.

  Trish’s hand flinched like she was gripping it around a belt. “Hey, you came knocking on my door, telling me I’ve got a grandson, so don’t smack your lips at me.”

  Marquita had this “whatever” look on her face. Jerking her neck she said, “I wouldn’t have come over here without calling first, but Jon-Jon changed his phone number like he hiding out or just don’t want to be bothered. I’m not going for that no more. Jon-Jon needs to—”

  “Look, Jon-Jon isn’t hiding from you. His phone was turned off a few months ago.”

  “What’s up with that?” Marquita’s brow furrowed. “I mean, I know he was in an accident, but don’t he want to talk to his friends?”

  They didn’t have the money. That’s what was up with that, and Jon-Jon wasn’t using his phone anymore anyway. “Let me get Jon-Jon so the three of us can have a discussion.”

  This young girl was working Trish’s nerve. She’d just met her, and she already wanted to take a belt to her. Coming in here rolling her neck and accusing her son of running from his responsibilities.

  “Who were you out there talking to?” Jon-Jon asked as she entered his room. “You wasting time, because I’m ready to play another game.”

  Trish closed the door as she stepped into the room. “Boy, hush up and listen to me.” She got close enough to him so he could hear the low volume of her voice. “Do you know a girl named Marquita Lewis?”

  A sinful grin eased across his face. He adjusted his position, tried to wipe the grin off his face. “Why you asking about Marquita?”

  She kept a throw pillow at the bottom of the bed in between the mattress and the iron bars of his hospital bed. It was kept there so Jon-Jon didn’t get his feet trapped. She pulled the pillow out and hit him with it. “That girl is sitting in my living room with a baby in her arms and you in here grinning like a cat with a rat tail hanging from your mouth.”

  “Marquita’s here?” He sunk into his bed. Eyes darted this way and that. “Yo, tell her to go away. I don’t want anybody seeing me like this.”

  “Did you not hear what I said? She has a baby with her.” Those words didn’t even sound right coming out of her mouth. How could her baby have a baby? Trish looked heavenward. “How can this be happening, Lord? Aren’t we dealing with enough?”

  “I don’t want her to see me like this,” he whined.

  “You don’t have a choice, Jon-Jon. And I’m texting your daddy.”

  “Wait, Mama. Don’t tell Daddy.”

  “Just shaking my head. Just shaking my head.” Giving him the talk-to-the-hand sign, Trish told him, “I can’t with you right now.” She stepped out of his room to grab her cell phone, mumbling, “Bringing some baby in here.”

  She grabbed her cell and then came back into the room with Jon-Jon. She texted his dad and then put the cell in her pocket. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “But, Mama.” He looked like he was about to cry.

  “I don’t like what’s going on, either, but if this is your baby then you have to take responsibility.” Trish pulled the cover off of him. She then placed the wheelchair next to his bed and swung his legs onto the right side of the bed.

  “Mom, no, I don’t want to go out there. You texted Dad. Why can’t y’all handle this?”

  This was a baby, and as much as she loved her son and felt badly about what he was dealing with, she was not going to let him be some deadbeat dad. That just was never going to happen. Not on her watch. “You didn’t ask us to handle nothing when you was laying up with this girl.” She popped him upside the head. “You know better than that.”

  He ducked his head and cast his eyes down. He looked repentant.

  Sighing deeply, she helped Jon-Jon sit up and then sat down next to him on the bed. Taking his hand in hers. “I get it, Jon-Jon. I really do. You were the man in high school, and you were making your presence known in college. You have refused calls from high school friends and your college teammates, and all they want to do is wish you well.”

  “I don’t need their pity, Mama.”

  “Maybe your father and I should have made you take a few of those calls. We thought we were protecting you.” Letting his hand go, she then gently rubbed his stubbly chin as images of Jon-Jon from boyhood to this very moment played in her head like a this-is-your-life video. “We can’t let you hide away and pretend this isn’t happening. This is the day you become a man, son.”

  “But, Ma, what if the baby isn’t mine and Marquita just wants to laugh at me and tell everyone that I’m in a wheelchair?”

  “We warned you about dating fast-tail girls who didn’t want nothing but the fame that was sure to come your way. Were you listening? Did you take in any of the things we said, Jon-Jon, because I don’t talk just because I have a tongue.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I listened. And I stayed away from a lot of girls who wanted to go out with me. I knew they weren’t for the right thing.”

  Of course, a bunch of girls wanted to date her son, and not just because he was destined to be a football star. Jon-Jon was handsome. He had that coffee-with-a-hint-of-hazelnut-creamer skin tone and mesmerizing dark-brown eyes that were just like his daddy’s. Jon-Jon was also kind and thoughtful. He would be a good catch for any woman. But this right here just didn’t make sense. He wasn’t raised like this, and even though she wanted grandchildren his behavior was unacceptable. She was so mad she could scream. They could hardly afford Jon-Jon’s needs. If this boy had brought another mouth for them to feed . . .

  “Do I really have to do this?”

  “What would your daddy tell you to do in this moment?”

  Jon-Jon sat up, cracked his neck, stretched his arms. “Help me into my chair so I can see this baby for myself.”

  Trish wasn’t happy that Jon-Jon had been fooling around in a manner that could get him stuck with a baby, but it is what it is. She helped him into the wheelchair and opened his bedroom door.

  “Wait.” He held up a hand. “Can you put a blanket over my legs?”

  She did as he requested, then started pushing him toward the door. Then he stopped her again.

  “I can do it.” Jon-Jon gripped the wheels of his chair and then thrust forward.

  Trish wanted to clap and cheer for her son. The physical therapist had worked with him on wheelchair mobility, but Jon-Jon had refused to guide the wheelchair himself, preferring to be pushed.

  Walking behind him, Trish’s stomach did somersaults like Simone Biles was in there practicing for the Olympics. She wished Dwayne was here, but she couldn’t have him leaving work, not when he had just missed two days to take care of her and Jon-Jon.

  Jon-Jon wheeled himself into the living room. That grin appeared on his face the moment his eyes connected with Marquita’s. Trish wanted to pop him in the back of his head. She bent next to his ear. “No more grinning like that until you’re married and in your own place, you got me?”

  His head swiveled as he looked back at her like she was a joy-killer. “Mom!”

  “I said what I said.”

  Turning back to Marquita, Jon-Jon waited as Trish put the safety on the wheelchair. “Hey, Marquita.”

  “Hey.”

  “My mom just told me that you have a baby.” His eyes drifted to the baby laying in her lap.

  “We,” she corrected. “We have a baby.”

  “But I don’t understand.”

  Marquita’s lips pursed, and her eyes crossed. “Don’t blame me if your mama and daddy didn’t tell you how babies are made.”

  This girl’s stank attitude was a bit much for Trish. She was raised to be respectful, and she and Dwayne taught Jon-Jon to respect others as well. She would never enter anyone’s home and talk out the side of her neck like this. “Girl, what is your problem?”

  Marquita glanced over at Trish. “I’m not trying to disrespect you or nothing. I didn’t want to bust in your house like this, because I know Jon-Jon’s got problems too. But I’m out of work and Marcus still needs to eat, and I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Now that sounds like an honest answer.” Trish reached for the baby. Marcus’s bubbly laughter filled the room as Trish lifted the baby out of Marquita’s arms. He felt so warm and cuddly and smelled like the same kind of soap she used to bathe Jon-Jon with. “You use Aveeno?”

  Marquita nodded. “He has dry skin.”

  “Jon-Jon had terrible dry skin when he was a baby, but it went away when he turned four.”

  “That’s a lot of Aveeno until then, and that soap ain’t cheap,” Marquita said.

  Trish sat down in the seat across from the girl. As she looked down at the baby, her heart filled with joy and fear at the same time. His eyes looked like Dwayne’s. Could this really be Jon-Jon’s baby or was she seeing things? “If we can speak to one another in a civilized manner, I think we can get to the bottom of this.”

  “I’m not trying to be rude. I guess I’m just too blunt for your taste.”

  Jon-Jon was staring at the baby as he cooed in Trish’s arms. “If this is my baby, why didn’t you tell me about him before now?”

  “First of all, your phone is no longer working and that was the only number I had to reach you. Not that you used it to call me once you went back to school. You didn’t care what happened to me.” Her head bobbed. “So back up on that one.”

  “My phone has only been inactive for the past three or four months. You had plenty of time to tell me that you were pregnant. Now you want to come in here acting like I’m not holding up my end, when I didn’t even know I had an end to hold up.”

  Marcus’s lip quivered as if he was about to cry. “Lower your voice, Jon-Jon. You’re scaring the baby,” Trish told him.