Alexis put her long auburn hair in a bun on the top of her head. Then she remembered the terrible sunburn she got on the back of her neck last year in this Carolina heat. Today was the eighth day of June and the sun was beaming, so she went to her bedroom and put on the straw hat Michael purchased for her during one of their travels to the Caribbean.

  Looking in the mirror, her green eyes smiled back at her. This is perfect for keeping the sun off of my neck. She rushed out of the room and back to the kitchen; she had hungry kids to feed.

  Michael had grilled the hot dogs and burgers for the party before retreating into his home office to take care of some important business—on his kids’ birthday. You’d think business could wait. She tried not to complain. Michael was a wonderful provider, neither the kids nor she wanted for anything. He was in the middle of a deal to sell the tech business he and his business partner started thirteen years ago, and then life would be even sweeter.

  So she cut him some slack as she filled bowls with chips and put the hot dogs and burgers in buns. Then she put the food on a tray and headed outside to feed the hungry munchkins in her backyard.

  The Justin Bieber look-a-like was standing by the pool, microphone in hand, singing, “Love Yourself.” Some of the kids were singing along. Others were swimming and a few were dancing. She caught the looks on Ethan’s and Ella’s faces and knew she’d done good. They were smiling. They were happy.

  Ethan started climbing the wall to dive into the pool. The first level of the structure was built of beautiful rocks and stones. The second level had a waterfall with several stones sticking out of the rock work. There was no diving board because the protruding stones were used for that. At the top of the structure was a thick stone, wide enough to stand on.

  “No diving today, Ethan.” Alexis pointed downward and Ethan complied. She didn’t want the other kids climbing on that wall and possibly hurting themselves.

  That structure was the only thing Alexis didn’t like about the design. She often admonished Michael to make sure those stones were wiped clean. With the water falling onto them, she worried that they could become slick and someone might slip and fall, but Michael accused her of worrying too much. So she let it go and just let the kids enjoy themselves.

  “Come and get it!” She set the food on the picnic table and then moved out of the way as the kids rushed the table. The plates, cups, and juice had already been laid out, so Alexis stood back and watched them fix their plates and then sit or stand around the pool, eating and chatting amongst themselves.

  It was a carefree life—the kind Alexis hadn’t known until she met and married Michael. Her American prince stepped into her life and opened her eyes to a world of possibilities. She and her children were blessed, and Alexis didn’t take that for granted.

  Michael walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He had grayed prematurely, reminding her of a younger Michael Douglas from the movie Wall Street. Her Michael had even said the movie’s catch phrase, “Greed is good,” when he and his business partner joked about the money flowing into their business.

  “You hanging out with us?”

  “Not yet.” He waved a hand, getting the kids attention. “Okay, kids, the juggler and the magician are here. Have a seat around the pool so we can start the show.”

  “Yay!” The kids got excited.

  Ethan came up to his father. “Dad, you said you were going to race me in the pool, remember?”

  Michael grinned and gave him a playful punch. “You don’t really want me to embarrass you on your birthday, do you?”

  Ethan flexed his eleven-year-old muscles. “I’ve been practicing. I beat Ella last week, and I’ll beat you too.”

  Turning to Alexis, Michael said, “You hear your son? He actually thinks he can beat me.”

  She shrugged. “He has been practicing.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what, son. You take over for your mom for a few minutes. Make sure everyone sits down and watches the show. Then, after the party I will show you why I was a champion swimmer in college.”

  Alexis elbowed her husband and gave him the not-again side-eye. “You’re not going to watch the magic show?”

  “Can’t right now. And I need you to come into my office with me.”

  Alexis extended her arm toward the kids in the yard. “I’m kind of busy hosting a party for our children right now.”

  “Can’t one of the other moms take over for a few minutes?”

  Her husband had come out to the pool area wearing black slacks, black leather shoes, and a white shirt with the two top buttons undone. Next to him she looked underdressed in her bright-yellow sundress, straw hat, and flip-flops. “And why are you dressed like this on a Saturday afternoon?”

  He looked down at himself. “I took my tie off.”

  She laughed. “That makes it all right then.”

  “I need you, Alexis.”

  When she didn’t respond, he pulled her into his arms. She purred and snuggled up to him. Alexis loved being in Michael’s arms. She felt safe, secure, and fully satisfied. Being with him felt like home, like she was always meant to be with this man. And that cologne—a mix of mint, lemon, vanilla, and cedarwood—tore down her resolve. “You’re not playing fair. You know I can’t resist your hugs.”

  “Then stop resisting. Come with me.” He kissed her neck and then became serious. “I wouldn’t interrupt the party if it wasn’t important.”

  “I don’t like being in your office.”

  Michael lifted his hands, backing up a bit. “It’s okay. You can pick up my stapler or touch anything else you want. I promise.”

  Michael was so protective over every little thing in his office. Alexis still remembered an incident that occurred about seven years ago when she was searching through his desk for a notepad and pencil so she could help Ethan with a drawing project.

  She had come across a wallet-size picture of a beautiful African-American baby. The baby looked like a cherub with a tiny black beauty mark next to her nose. When she asked him about the photo, Michael had become agitated. He’d said the baby belonged to a friend of his. Alexis hadn’t questioned his honesty about the picture, she just didn’t understand why he was so upset that she had found the photo.

  She didn’t want to go to his office, but the kids were seated, watching the magician. The show would take at least twenty minutes, and then the juggler would dazzle them with his skills. Two of the moms volunteered to chaperone for a few minutes, so she left the backyard.

  Michael’s office was toward the back of the house. His window overlooked the backyard, so she followed him to his office and then opened the blinds. “Before I listen to whatever you need from me, you have to make me a promise.”

  Sitting on the edge of his desk, he said, “You know I never agree to anything without all the details.”

  Ever the businessman. She admired that about him, but there were times when she needed him to just be Michael—her husband and the kids’ dad. “I just want you to promise to be present for the kids’ next birthday party. Not just in body but all the way in.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I mean it, Michael, if I have to put a lock on your office door, I will. They will be grown and gone before we know it. Don’t you want to spend more time with them?”

  “Babe, I’m sorry about today. But Peter and I are having issues with the sale of the company, and you know that we’ll be set for life if this deal goes through.”

  Alexis nodded. Michael and Peter had been college roommates who created apps that helped users add funny videos and emojis to their texts. Users flocked to the app and now a major player in the business wanted to buy the company. If Michael needed her help, then she was here for him. “What can I do?”

  “I just got off the phone with Peter, and he’s nervous about our upcoming court case. He thinks if those people go shooting their mouths off about you getting into an accident while texting and driving, that our deal might go up in smoke.”

  Alexis’ heart rate sped up as her mind’s eye flashed back to that terrible accident. She rubbed the left side of her chest as she exhaled. “I feel so bad for that young man, Michael. I’m usually a good driver. I should have never reached for my phone like that.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, babe. Accidents happen. But that kid’s father won’t go away. He wants his day in court, and we just can’t allow that.”

  “But I thought you said our insurance was more than enough to cover the accident? You told me that you would take good care of that young man.” Alexis bit her lip so hard she touched it to make sure she didn’t draw blood.

  “The insurance money is enough, but the boy you hit was in college on a football scholarship, and those people think his earning potential is higher than the insurance policy. Basically, they know we have money and are trying to cash in.”

  Those people . . . She didn’t like the way Michael said that. “The father’s name is Dwayne John Robinson. And the young man I hit is John Robinson.”

  Michael shrugged. “I’m trying to make this go away. But if they won’t be reasonable, I may need you to step in.”

  She sat down in front of his desk. It was a big mahogany desk, the kind that spoke of wealth and importance. He knew how to make things go away. Just like how he put her mother in a nursing home so he wouldn’t have to see or deal with her. And how he got Ethan’s kindergarten teacher to promote Ethan to the first grade even though their son hadn’t been ready. But Michael couldn’t deal with Ella moving to the next grade without her brother, so presto, no more problem. But what did Alexis know about making things go away?

  “I would contact them myself, but Peter thinks I should lay low. The last thing we need is to end up on the news with some nosy reporter connecting this accident with my company while we’re in the middle of selling the business.”

  She put her hands in her lap. “John was hurt really bad in the accident. I don’t know how to make that go away.”

  “Hon, I know you don’t like dealing with these kind of things, but you talk people off ledges all the time. You’re good at dealing with other people’s drama. I just need you to convince those people to drop this court case and go to arbitration.”

  Alexis worked with mentally ill people who were transitioning from one difficult phase of life to another. She had never worked with a family whose child’s life had been destroyed in an accident—and one she had caused, no less—but her husband didn’t seem to recognize the difference. She got up and headed for the door.

  Michael wasn’t finished. “This needs to be handled quickly, Alexis. And if those people ask you to confirm that you were texting and driving, don’t.”

  “The police already know what I was doing, Michael.” She bit her lip again. “I don’t know. You said you would handle this.”

  “What do you think our lawyer has been trying to do? Look, I tried to get it done quietly. But those people are being difficult, and I may need your help. That’s all I’m saying, okay?”

  She was about to say something else, but she could tell he was getting agitated with her. Yes, the accident had been her fault, but she needed Michael to take care of it and help that kid get better because she just couldn’t deal with the fact that she had ruined someone else’s life.

  Leaving his office, she headed for the kitchen. Cut the cake. It was a half-white, half-chocolate cake, since Ella liked white and Ethan liked chocolate. Instead of taking it outside for the kids, she put about three pieces of the chocolate cake in a bowl, grabbed a spoon, and ate the cake so fast that her stomach protested.

  Alexis scurried off to the bathroom, holding her mouth with one hand and her quivering stomach with the other. She made it to the bathroom, kicked the door closed with her foot as she lowered her head into the toilet, and threw up.

  Her hat fell on the floor as she continued emptying the contents of her belly. When she finally stood, she took a moment to settle her breathing. She turned on the sink and splashed water in her mouth, straightened, then looked at herself in the mirror. She closed her eyes and breathed as if she were in a Lamaze class practicing breathing techniques. She then opened the bathroom door and headed back to the party.

  In the kitchen again, guilt pricked her heart as one of the moms rushed over to her. “Someone ate some of the cake. I’m so sorry. I tried to watch the kids. But one or two of them must have slipped past me.”

  Alexis had destroyed the twins’ beautiful cake. But she had also destroyed a young man’s life. The sugar rush helped her to cope. She waved off the comment. “Ethan and Ella won’t care.” She picked up the cake plates and asked, “Can you help me get this delicious cake out there so the kids can enjoy it?”

  Chapter 4

  Just another sad song. Marquita turned the radio off. She wasn’t in the mood for some love-gone-wrong-cause-he-did-me-wrong song. Not when she and Moochie had just left the job center where she put together her first-ever résumé. The experience had not been pretty, especially when the social worker who helped her with the résumé had the audacity to ask, “Why have you had five jobs in one year?”

  Really? The woman stared at her as if she demanded an answer. So Marquita asked her, “Why does the sun rise in the morning, and why does the moon come out at night?”

  Ms. Fancy Pants social worker didn’t have an answer for that. She just lifted the folder that held Marquita’s résumés and said, “Working on your attitude might help you keep a job longer than two months at a time.”

  “Can y’all help me with day care? I’m still on the waiting list, and it will be at least two years before my number comes up with this dumb social service block grant in Charlotte.” Marquita’s head rocked from side to side, and she scowled at the woman as her voice elevated.

  The social worker was still holding the folder with the résumés they had just created. She told Marquita, “I don’t have any childcare vouchers. You’ll have to check back with me. Or research to see if a church or day care has a subsidized program.”

  Rolling her eyes, Marquita took the résumés from the woman. She lifted Moochie’s baby carrier and headed for her car. She didn’t need a lecture from some woman who knew nothing about her. How was she to know why she couldn’t keep a job? It wasn’t like she didn’t want to work. Things just happen. No rhyme. No rhythm. It just is what it is.

  Arriving home, Marquita sighed deeply. She hated her apartment. Hated how winos were able to hang out in front of the building. She had complained to her slumlord, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was the rent on the first of the month. “Come on, Moochie, let’s get in the house before Larry asks for our spare change.”

  She passed the drunks on the porch and was about to put the key in the lock when she saw the eviction notice taped to her door.

  “Looks like Ms. Thang has to find a new place to live,” Larry said to his drunk buddy.

  Marquita shot back at him. “Looks like Larry needs Alcoholics Anonymous and a quick lesson in ‘mind your own business.’”

  Snatching the ten-day notice off her door, she put the key in the lock and entered her apartment, slamming the door behind her. The building had four units. Larry the wino lived in the unit upstairs. Some guy who acted like he was hiding from the po-po lived in the unit across from Larry. She didn’t know his name and didn’t want to know it. The apartment on the first floor, across the hall from hers, was empty.

  She threw the notice in the trash and then laid Moochie in the middle of her bed. No sense in thinking about something she couldn’t do anything about. She didn’t have the rent money and wouldn’t have it until she got another job.

  Marquita went into the kitchen to start cleaning and used her cell phone to turn on some music. Turning the volume up, she danced and sang as she washed the dishes and wiped down the kitchen counter. She then grabbed the broom and began sweeping. The fake pleather on the arms of the sofa and chair were constantly rubbing off. Each day, there were flakes of brown pleather on her floor. She’d bought the sofa and chair from a local Goodwill for fifty dollars. She wanted a refund.

  Marquita didn’t own a vacuum, so she swept the carpeted living room floor with her broom, then continued sweeping all the dirt and pleather into the kitchen until she had all the dirt in one pile. She was about to use her dustpan to pick the dirt up when her doorbell rang.

  Marquita leaned the broom against the wall. She didn’t know anybody in this neighborhood, so she had no idea why someone was ringing her doorbell. And if it was Larry, she was going to let him have it, just as she did the last time he had the nerve to knock on her door asking for money. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Rob. I’m here to collect the rent.”

  “What?” She put her hand to her ear.

  “Turn down the music, and you’ll be able to hear me!” he shouted.

  Marquita slid her thumb upward on her cell phone and the music stopped. Walking to the door, she put her left eyeball against the peephole. It was her landlord. His dark-blue eyes stared back at her. He was balding at the front of his head, so he swooped the hair from the right side of his head to the left side.

  Stepping away from the door, Marquita was clueless as to what to do next. She should have known he would come knocking. Her mother’s landlords always banged on the door, demanding rent before they were thrown out.

  “Did you hear me, Marquita? I need the rent money.”

  Leaning against the wall as if she expected the landlord to try to kick in her front door, she said, “I heard you, but I need more time.”

  “The law says I only have to give you ten days.”

  Adulting was harder than she thought, but being a kid had been no bed of roses either. Marquita never felt stable or like she could relax and call any place her mother moved into home. She didn’t want that kind of life for her son. “I just got my résumés done today, so I should have another job in a couple of weeks.”