The guard stepped away from the door and Marquita used that opportunity to yell at Mark, “Run!”

  But the guard grabbed her brother before he could obey her command. She started crying, her heart breaking as the social worker and security guard backed out of the room with Kee Kee and Mark. She reached out as they reached out for her. “Please . . . please, don’t take them away from me. I’ll take good care of them. I promise.”

  Her brother and sister had been placed in a home together while she had been taken to another home by herself, without anyone she knew or trusted. That was the most alone Marquita had ever felt in her life. She wouldn’t let anyone take her son away, to cause him to feel alone and scared.

  She backed out of the parking spot and drove away from the women’s shelter, then headed back to her apartment and pulled into the driveway. She got out of the car to see if the door might have been left unlocked. But there was a padlock on the door now.

  What was she going to do? It was getting dark, and although it was still hot outside, at least the sun had gone down. She got back in the car, rolled down the windows, leaned her seat back, and tried to get comfortable.

  Her cell phone rang. It was Mark. Gathering herself, she took a deep breath, then answered the phone.

  “Hey, sis, what time are you picking us up tomorrow?”

  Running her fingers across her forehead, Marquita felt like crying as she remembered that she was supposed to pick Mark and Kee Kee up the next day. They were tired of being at the shelter with Gloria and wanted to stay with her for a while. “Umm, I forgot to call. I won’t be able to pick you and Kee Kee up.”

  “But Marquita, you promised. This place is whack. Come get us.”

  Still rubbing her forehead, she lied, “That’s just it, Mark. My car quit on me. So I can’t come get you until I can get it fixed.”

  “Mama’s car is down too.” Mark sounded glum.

  Marquita didn’t like disappointing her siblings. She tried to be there for them. But life was falling apart for her, just as it was for them. The knowledge she couldn’t help Mark and Kee Kee was like a gut punch. When he hung up, she burst out into tears. “I hate my life!” she screamed.

  Later that night, she needed to pee. She got out of the car, opened the back door, and unstrapped Moochie. She then walked to the backyard. Eyes darting this way and that, she held on to her baby with one hand in a manner she was sure Trish would object to. She then crouched down and used the bathroom in the backyard like an animal.

  It was pitch-black when they got back in her car. Marquita feared putting Moochie in the back seat with the windows down, so she put him in the front seat on her right side. She tried to sleep, but it was hot and muggy out. She would close her eyes, then open them within the next few minutes and look around to see if anyone was sneaking up on them.

  Moochie cried so much that night that she wondered if any of the nearby neighbors heard him. By morning she had her answer.

  The landlord stood at her car door looking like he’d been chewing on rusty nails. “Did you sleep here all night?”

  “I left some of my food, so I came back to get it but you padlocked the door.”

  His lips tightened as he gave her a disbelieving stare. “You didn’t have any food in that refrigerator.”

  “I had some stuff in the cabinets. Just let me in so I can get it and I’ll get out of here.” She didn’t know where she was going to go. But it was clear she wouldn’t be able to stay there.

  He let her in, and as she opened the cabinets, she glanced over her shoulder to see if he noticed that she only had a box of graham crackers and a moon pie in the cabinet. “Do you mind if I fix a bottle for my son before we leave?”

  Shaking his head, the landlord told her, “Make it quick.”

  Marquita didn’t like the way her ex-landlord stood over her as she took the three bottles Moochie had out of his diaper bag, washed them, and then poured in the powdered formula and water. She shook the bottles, wanting to use the microwave to warm them, but she shoved them back in the bag, picked her baby back up, and left the apartment.

  “Call when you are ready to pick up your bed and the sofa. I don’t want you loitering around my building.” He padlocked the door again as they walked out.

  She didn’t respond. She simply put Moochie in his car seat, then got behind the wheel and drove off. There was no way she’d be able to get the rest of her belongings. So, just like her mother, all of her things would be thrown away and she’d have to start from scratch.

  There was a rest area with a bathroom and picnic tables on the outskirts of town. She got on the highway and drove until she pulled into it. She parked the car, then put a few of the items in her passenger seat in the back of the car so she could bring Moochie’s car seat up front with her.

  Marquita took out one pack of graham crackers and ate a few of them. Moochie was ready to eat, so she pulled out one of his bottles and fed him. Looking down at her son, she said, “Well, Moochie, looks like it’s just you and me.”

  Thank God Trish had purchased diapers and formula for Moochie because she wouldn’t have been able to do it. She needed money, but she couldn’t apply for benefits because she didn’t have an address. She learned from her mother that the worst thing you can do is tell government authorities that you don’t have an address, especially when you have a kid.

  After feeding Moochie, she leaned her seat back, pulled out her phone, and scrolled through Facebook. So many of her old friends were enjoying life and doing big things. Her high school rival was in college and just pledged AKA. Life was an open door for that girl.

  That girl had it made . . . guess they weren’t rivals anymore. Her old frenemy probably didn’t think about her anymore—too busy with college and joining sororities.

  She put her phone down, chewed on another graham cracker. Her mouth got dry, so she got out of the car and sipped from the water fountain. She then rushed back to the car because Moochie had started crying. “I’m sorry. I didn’t go far. But I won’t leave you again.”

  But Moochie wouldn’t stop crying so she started crying with him. People stared at them as they passed by. One lady asked if she was okay.

  Wiping her face, Marquita said, “I’m okay, just a little frustrated.”

  Marquita took Moochie out of the car and went inside the rest stop to sit under the air-conditioning. He stopped crying then. “You were hot, weren’t you?” she said as she stripped him down to his T-shirt. Then she wondered if Moochie could get heat stroke or something. It was really hot outside, especially now as the sun hung in the air and beat down on their car.

  She decided to stay inside the building for a while. She wished she could use one of her wash rags to clean herself up, but she didn’t want to risk someone coming in the bathroom while she washed. She was able to use Moochie’s wet wipes to clean him up. Then she fed him again. After his second feeding, he threw up. His tummy wasn’t used to taking in formula that wasn’t warmed.

  “Oh, Moochie, what am I doing to you?”

  She called her mom and asked for advice. Gloria said, “Let me talk to the director at this women’s shelter. They should be able to get you a bed.”

  She didn’t want to do it. But it was too hot for Moochie to stay out in the sun like this. “Okay, call me back and let me know what she says.”

  The sun went down, and Gloria hadn’t called back yet, so Marquita and Moochie went back to the car and stayed there all night long, watching the travelers drive in and drive out.

  The next day she moved her car under a big tree with enough leaves to provide some shade. She only got out of her car during the hottest parts of the day and to use the bathroom or fix Moochie a bottle. At about six in the evening she was getting hungry. She reached for the graham cracker box but it was empty. That was when she started to cry.

  Several cars pulled up. Marquita scrunched down in her seat and wiped her eyes. What was she going to do? How could she take care of her son if she couldn’t take care of herself? “God help me!” she yelled up to the sky, even though she wasn’t sure if anyone up there would care about her.

  A man walked up to her car. Marquita had the windows down because of the heat, but she was about to roll them up when he lifted the bag in his hand. “I bought this a couple miles down the road, but I’m almost home so if you want it, you can have it.”

  “Just like that, huh? You’ll give me your food—no strings attached?” He was young, probably in his midtwenties. Short afro with a dark-chocolate skin tone. But those eyes of his made her squirm in her seat. As he looked into her eyes, it seemed to Marquita that he was reading her life story.

  “No, ma’am, I don’t want anything from you. I just want to be of service.” Shaking the bag, he said, “It’s fried chicken with mash potatoes and green beans. I haven’t even opened the box.”

  Marquita wanted to say no, but her stomach was aching from hunger. She took the bag. “Thank you.”

  He looked over at Moochie, reached into his pocket, and handed her a twenty. “I wish I had more on me, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  His eyes were so full of compassion, so kind that Marquita started crying as she accepted the money. Then he asked, “Can I pray for you?”

  She also accepted the prayer. After eating the food, she and the baby went to sleep. In the morning, her phone rang. It was Gloria. “Get over here fast. They need you to fill out some intake paperwork but they only have one spot available.”

  “I’m on my way.” Her heart was heavy as she pulled out of the parking spot, heading to a place where she said she would never ever take her son. Halfway there her phone rang again. It was Trish.

  “Hello,” Marquita said as she answered the phone.

  “Hi, Marquita. I’m not sure if you’re busy today, but the DNA test came back, and we didn’t want to open it without you.”

  “That was fast. It’s only been three days.”

  “Dwayne paid for the expedited service,” Trish told her.

  Marquita suddenly had a thought. Maybe the Robinsons would keep Moochie for a few days while she looked for a job and a place to stay . . . That way, she wouldn’t have to take her baby to the shelter with her. “I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 15

  Dwayne and Jon-Jon were in the family room. Dwayne was seated on the love seat; Jon-Jon was in his wheelchair. The television wasn’t on because the main event was laying in a manila envelope on the table with all eyes on it.

  Trish was at the kitchen counter, the family room directly behind her. Their home’s open floor plan made it seem as if they were all in the same room. While Jon-Jon and Dwayne only had eyes for that manila envelope, Trish was trying to balance a checkbook that just wouldn’t do right. The gas bill had been paid as well as the electric bill and the mortgage. “Dwayne, did we pay the water bill?”

  “Not yet,” Dwayne answered.

  Rubbing his hands together, Jon-Jon asked, “Did she say she was on her way?”

  “For the third time, yes,” Trish told him. “Let’s give her a chance to get from her place to here.”

  Dwayne tapped his knee with his fingers. “You know, we could just peek inside and then close the envelope back up.”

  Trish shot that down. “If it was my baby, I’d want to be here when the DNA paperwork slid out of that envelope. Let’s just wait.”

  Jon-Jon fidgeted in his chair. “I can’t wait any longer. My back is bothering me.”

  Dwayne got up and started wheeling Jon-Jon back to his room.

  “Will you be able to pay the water bill this week?” Trish asked Dwayne before he disappeared into Jon-Jon’s room.

  “I don’t think so. Can you call and ask them for an extension?”

  Trish hated how many times they had to get extensions on the bills. It was embarrassing letting bill collectors know that they didn’t have enough money to cover all their bills. She couldn’t deny that Dwayne was trying his best and working overtime to bring in money, but the ends just weren’t meeting.

  The doorbell rang. Trish put the checkbook down and went to the door. She looked through the peephole; her eyes did a double take. She swung the door open, and as Marquita stepped in, Trish’s nose crinkled as it tried to fend off the stench of dirty clothes and an unwashed body. Was the girl on drugs? “What is going on with you, Marquita? Why are you coming to my house looking and smelling like this?”

  Marquita couldn’t look Trish in the eye. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

  “What’s wrong with your shower? Do you not have running water at home?”

  Tears rolled down Marquita’s cheeks as she tried to cover her face.

  Trish uncovered the girl’s face. “This is not the time to be shy. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  “I got evicted. I’ve been sleeping outside since we left your house three days ago.” The tears flowed freely now as her chest heaved up and down. “I don’t have anywhere to bathe. I didn’t know I smelled so bad.” She lowered her head and looked away from Trish.

  “Hand me that baby.” Trish stretched out her arms.

  Marquita held back. “No, no, don’t take him from me. He’s all I have.”

  Trish’s heart nearly broke as this mouthy young woman, who thought she knew so much about life, crumbled in front of her. She leaned close and whispered, “Do you have any clean clothes in the car?”

  Marquita nodded.

  “I promise I won’t take the baby away from you. I just want to hold him so you can clean up.” Slowly, she stretched her arms out for the baby. “Is that okay?”

  “Okay.” Marquita handed Trish the baby and then opened the front door to go back to her car.

  Trish sniffed around the baby’s neck. “Bring in some clean clothes for the baby too.”

  While Marquita showered, Trish cleaned Marcus. He cooed, giggled, and wiggled until Trish dried him off. She was putting his clothes on when Dwayne knocked on the bathroom door.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  Trish had the baby in the bathroom next to Jon-Jon’s room. She let Marquita use the shower that was in her and Dwayne’s bathroom because she wanted the girl to have some semblance of dignity and privacy. She needed Marquita to rush though. She and Dwayne didn’t like people in their space for too long. “A little patience, Dwayne. We will be right there.”

  She put clean clothes on the baby and then hurried into her bedroom to wait on Marquita to come out of the bathroom. When Marquita opened the bathroom door, Trish handed her a laundry bag for her dirty clothes. Then she asked the girl, “I don’t mean to pry, but is there some reason you can’t stay with your mother?”

  “She’s in a shelter right now. I was on my way there when you called, but I was thinking about asking you all to keep Marcus for a few days so I wouldn’t have to take him there. I’m terrified that they might take my baby away from me.”

  Trish’s eyebrow jutted up. “Why would they take the baby?”

  “They took us from my mom when I was a kid. I just can’t let that happen to my baby.” Marquita started crying again. “I swore I wouldn’t be like my mother, but here I am, headed to a shelter just like she does all the time.”

  Trish handed her some tissues. “Wipe your face and come with me.” Still holding the baby, she led Marquita to Jon-Jon’s room. “We’re here.”

  Jon-Jon had the envelope in his hands. He waved it in the air as he looked at Marquita. “Last chance. You got anything to tell me before I open it?”

  “Boy, please.” Marquita put a hand on her hip. “I know who my baby’s daddy is,” was a phrase heard often on those paternity shows, only to discover that the woman did not know who her baby’s daddy was.

  “I’m nervous,” Jon-Jon said as he slowly opened the envelope.

  “No reason to be, unless you don’t want to be Marcus’s daddy.” Marquita had this “you’ll see” look on her face.

  Trish walked over to the other side of her son’s bed. He had changed these past few days. Knowing that he could be a father to a baby as wonderful as Marcus had done something to him. She prayed he wouldn’t be disappointed and then wallow in depression again.

  There was a lot riding on the contents of that envelope. Trish’s stomach jumped like butterflies were dancing in there. “You don’t have to open it, son. Marcus is yours. When I hold this baby, it feels just like how I felt holding you twenty years ago.”

  Jon-Jon smiled at his mother, took her hand, and squeezed it. “I feel the same way too. I think he looks like me, but I have to know for sure. Even if it means taking a grandson away from you, I still have to know. Is that okay with you?”

  It was his decision. Trish relented. She would be devastated if Marcus wasn’t his, especially since she didn’t know if Jon-Jon would be able to have another child. “I understand.”

  Jon-Jon pulled the contents from the envelope. When he opened his mouth again, he said, “It says there’s a 99.9 percent probability that I’m the father.”

  The room erupted with cheers.

  “Oh, thank You, God! I have a grandbaby.” Eyes wide and overflowing with joy, Trish stepped out of the room while Jon-Jon and Dwayne fussed over the baby. She went into her bedroom and looked out the window. The cardinal wasn’t there, which surprised her because she felt like God had just visited their home, bringing them a sweet bundle of joy. A grandbaby. She had a grandbaby.

  As those words danced around her head, she lifted her eyes to heaven and said, “Thank You.” Then she rushed back into Jon-Jon’s room and took the baby off Jon-Jon’s lap. Trish bounced the baby in her arms. Excitement rang in her voice as she said, “Marcus, I’m your grandmother.”

  “My family calls him Moochie,” Marquita told Trish. “Since you’re family now, I guess it’s all right for you to call him Moochie too.”

  Tears of joy danced in Trish’s eyes as she continued bouncing the baby in her arms. “You look like a Moochie with them fat cheeks. Hey, you know who else looked like a Moochie when he was a baby?” Wiping the tears from her face, she said, “Your daddy.”