Chapter Twenty-Three

KEVIN SHOOK HER GENTLY. “Evelyn?”

Evelyn rolled onto her side away from him.

“Evie?”

Though she still clung to sleep, Evelyn retreated physically and emotionally at his pet name. His touch forced her to open her eyes. She blinked and flopped onto her back.

“Good morning, Evie.” He smiled and touched the mound her midsection made beneath the sheet. When she recoiled, he withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

She regretted her reflexive movement. She reached for his hand and held it to her belly. “I’m just waking up, that’s all.” She cleared her throat and tried to smile. “You know I’m not a morning person.” Ignoring his questioning eyes, she squeezed his fingers, threw back the covers, and moved away. “It seems quiet. Where’s everybody?”

“Lis and Jackson left for church some time ago. Then they’re going to Granny B’s. How about we join them? I haven’t seen her yet.”

She and her mama had tiptoed around each other the past thirty-six hours, and she hadn’t spoken to Granny B since she’d fled her home. “I’m not up to it today. But please don’t let me stop you.” And she really meant please. She ached for some time alone.

Evelyn stretched, causing her pink flowered nightie to lift higher on her thighs. Feeling his eyes on her and knowing the house was practically empty, Evelyn straightened and pulled down her white lace hem. She flicked aside the curtain to avoid his hungry look. The drops that had sent her scurrying for the car two days before were nothing compared to the torrential downpour outside. “What a difference a day makes.”

“Why don’t we have breakfast and hang out? We can spend some time catching up and maybe watch a movie or cuddle on the sofa.”

“Mmmmm.” I wonder what he means by “hang out” and “cuddle”? Evelyn left the window seat and headed toward the door. “I’m going to wash up and get dressed. You want to start with breakfast and see what happens from there?”

Kevin reached for her hand as she passed him. “Want an omelet, coffee, or me?”

“Why don’t we go with door number two? I’d love some coffee. Decaffeinated.” Evelyn kissed him lightly on the cheek and dug out denim shorts and a flowered T-shirt. Then she hastily found refuge in the bathroom. Once inside, she leaned against the closed and locked door and squeezed her eyes shut on a prayer. Dear Jesus, help me. I can’t live without Kevin, but it’s hard to live with him. Show me how to trust him, to forgive him, to love him as You want me to, flaws and all. His sins against me, against You, O Lord, are no greater than mine. Please, please, please help me remember that. I know I want You to forgive my trespasses, so help me forgive his. Amen.

Evelyn heard the landline ring just as she stepped from the shower. A moment later, there was a soft tap on the bathroom door.

“Evelyn?”

“Yes?” The T-shirt muffled her voice as she pulled it on.

“Telephone.”

Evelyn turned the lock and peeked around the door.

“I’m going to join Lis and Jackson and visit Granny B.” Kevin thrust a phone at her through the opening before he abruptly about-faced and headed toward the stairs.

I guess he was going for door number three, she thought, only slightly chagrined. “Hello?”

“Evelyn?”

“Oh, hi.”

“‘Oh, hi’ to you, too. I won’t hold you long, so don’t worry.”

“No worries, Yolanda. Kevin just didn’t tell me who it was.”

“I’ve been trying to catch up with you for a while, to talk about Mama’s birthday party. Did you get my text about switching gears? With everything going on, I think it’s a good idea.”

Evelyn smacked herself on her forehead. “Right, right, I did. I’m sorry. And I agree: a family dinner sounds best, and now Kevin can be there since he’s changed his travel itinerary.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. I’ve talked to him more than I’ve talked to you. So, no more jet-setting for him?”

“Nope, looks like he’s homebound for a minute. Listen, thanks for staying on top of all this and for chasing me down. Life has been crazy.”

“Sure. You know how I hate loose ends. Maybe this will take one thing off your plate.”

What plate? Yolanda had no idea Evelyn hadn’t spared a thought for her mama’s party. At least now she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about avoiding her sister’s calls or faking excitement in a roomful of people. Soon enough, she’d be faking grief. The baby kicked her, and she jumped.

Evelyn cleared her throat. “I appreciate your taking the reins. I’m sure you have enough on your own plate. How are you?”

“Tired, but good.”

“I’m sure. Keeping up with the family and your responsibilities at the firm must keep you hopping. How are the kids?”

“Getting on my nerves. Wonderful as ever. You know, Monica starts school this fall.”

“That’s right! She just turned five, didn’t she? With all that’s going on here, it slipped my mind. Did you do it up in a big way?”

“Of course! We had a tea party. Complete with ten little girls in flowered hats, dripping red fruit punch on my carpet.” She laughed. “I lost a plate, but it was lots of fun. Phillip Jr. blew a gasket when they trooped into his room, but I promised him a game for his computer, and he settled down.”

Evelyn quickly calculated her nephew’s age. “He turns eight this November, right?”

“Yes, though you’d think he was thirty-eight the way he tries to boss people around here. Phil treats him like the sun rises and sets on him. I keep saying, ‘You’d better take a hard line. We’re going to have a mess on our hands.’ But you know men are hardheaded, old and young.”

She sounds so much like Mama. Is this how I’m going to sound in a few years? Evelyn looked at her belly.

Yolanda seemed to hear her thoughts. “But what about you? You’ll have your own soon. I haven’t talked to you since you found out you were pregnant.”

Since everybody else found out I’m pregnant. “Yes, I know. A lot has happened, but . . . I’m good. You talked about the kids, but you left out my brother-in-law. How is he?”

Yolanda paused. Then she took a breath. “Phillip is better. We’re better. Actually, Phillip and I just got home from a marriage retreat.”

“A marriage retreat?”

“Sponsored by the women’s ministry at our church. It was beautiful—but you know it took the Lord to get me into the wilderness! I don’t do bugs. I had to suck it up, though. Phillip and I really needed this.”

Evelyn took the phone into her mother’s room and stretched out on her chaise longue. “Y’all good?” She heard her sister sigh again from hundreds of miles away.

“We’re getting there. It was iffy for a minute.”

Evelyn was unsure how to navigate these uncharted waters of her sister’s vulnerability.

But Yolanda continued, unprompted. “I’m just grateful God blessed me with this loving, patient man. If He hadn’t, I don’t know, Ev . . . I guess I’d be on my way to single motherhood.”

“He’s loving and patient? Did you—?”

“Have an affair? No, it wasn’t something that black-and-white. But really, it’s not what I did. It’s more about what I didn’t do. I pretty much checked out. I couldn’t manage more than the bare minimum. You didn’t notice you weren’t hearing from me?”

Evelyn cringed. She’d thought she was avoiding Yolanda, not the other way around.

Her sister must have sensed her chagrin. She cracked up. “It’s okay, Sis. We never talked much anyway. Life just got to be too much for me, and . . . let’s just say I stepped away from myself for a bit. From Phil, the kids, work. Everything. I just wasn’t quote-unquote happy, and I thought I deserved it, or some such nonsense. But Phil held on to our marriage, to our family, to me. He waited until I got it together. Shoot, there’s lots of ways to be unfaithful in a marriage.”

Don’t I know it? Evelyn rolled to her side, overwhelmed with the awareness that this was God. She felt more shock than judgment. She and her sister hadn’t talked in almost a month about something as banal as the weather, let alone life changers like this. “Yolanda, I didn’t know . . .”

“No one did—well, no one but me and Phillip and Mama. And I wouldn’t be talking about it so easily now if I hadn’t just left the retreat and told the group. This isn’t something I’d normally share so easily with anybody, including you, Baby Sister. But God showed me how being real about my own marriage, my own limitations, helps others.”

“Mama knew?”

“Who do you think I cried my heart out to when Phillip confronted me? And I really think if it wasn’t for the children—and God, of course—he would have moved out. And I couldn’t blame him. Shoot, Mama’s got a whole bunch of my secrets buried in her backyard! She really helped me find my way back home. We’re not perfect, but we’re like new—and not like Target-opened-box-returned-television new. I’m saying brand-new.”

“I don’t know what to say, Yo.”

She sighed. “That’s because we never say more than two words to each other, let alone the deep stuff. Maybe that can change. We’re about to have lots more in common when you have that baby! Mama told me how good you look. I was as big as a house when I carried my babies.”

“She said that?”

“Mmm-hmmm, she said you could barely tell you’re showing. Why’d you wait so long to tell somebody?”

Because I hadn’t even told my own husband, Evelyn almost blurted out. Instead she answered, “There was so much going on around here. It just seemed like one more thing to discuss.”

“‘One more thing to discuss’? That’s good news, something we needed to hear. It’s not like you had to tell somebody you’re sick or dying . . . Oops, I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Well . . . you know. Granny B.”

“She’s your grandmother, too.”

“True, but you have to admit she never could stand much of me or Lionel.”

“Yolanda! That’s not—” Actually, it was true. But then Granny B couldn’t stand much of anybody, and Evelyn told her that.

“Maybe, but you and Granny B have this special chemistry.”

“I just bully my way in. Everybody else is too afraid to.”

“But that’s just it. You two are so alike.”

“Just because we share the same name doesn’t mean we’re alike.”

“No, it’s just one more thing. The way you speak your mind—”

“So I’m honest. At least I’m nice about it.”

“But when you pretend you don’t hear a question or politely change the subject . . . same thing. And you know how Granny B remembers even the smallest offenses? Well, that’s you, a dog with a bone. I’m sure you still remember why you got in trouble when we were at Maxine’s that day—”

“Because you disobeyed Mama and I got the blame for it! You know that was your fault—”

“See? That’s what I mean. Like I said, just won’t let things go,” Yolanda giggled. “And you’re both so closemouthed. Look at how Mama found out her own mother was sick, from a friend. That’s you. Granny B all the way . . . Evelyn? You still there?”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not mad, are you? I’m sorry—”

“Now why are you apologizing?”

“I thought—”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to hear your voice. I needed this. Did you call to talk to Mama?”

Yolanda didn’t answer for a moment. “Actually, no. Like I said, we walked in the door, and the Lord said, ‘Call your sister.’ So I did. You’re really all right? And Kevin? I imagine he’s ready to get y’all back home.”

Evelyn made a quick decision. “Kevin . . . well. I’m really glad he came back early. We have stuff to work through. The baby, for one.”

Yolanda said nothing for a few seconds as if she was listening to all the unspoken words between them. Then she seemed to reach a decision, for she abruptly shifted her tone from warm-and-fuzzy to back-to-business. “Speaking of babies, I should go. Mine have been awfully quiet for too long, and you know what that means.”

Evelyn drew from her teaching experience to chime in with her: “Trouble!”

A few minutes later, they ended the call with a promise to talk again soon. Evelyn replaced the receiver and tucked the conversation into the back of her mind. She’d bring it out later, turn it over, and poke at it, but for the moment, the rest of the day yawned before her.

Then she spied her mama’s closet. Not thinking twice, she opened the door wide and stepped inside. Lis’s walk-in closet was just as neat and organized as Granny B’s, just bigger—nearly the size of Granny B’s extra bedroom. She pushed through clothes, accessories, and other odds and ends. When Evelyn couldn’t find anything interesting above, she ducked under the skirts and shirts. And there in the back she found yet another box, the box, what her subconscious mind had sought the whole time. She dragged it into the open and lifted its lid. Inside, hundreds and hundreds of photographs fought for space.

Lis had always promised to “do something soon” with all the photographs they’d taken, but her “soon” spanned more than three decades. Evelyn plowed through, briefly reliving the life history of their family: Lionel and his first and only puppy. A tiny Yolanda, sprawled on the sidewalk in a pair of clunky skates. Evelyn holding a screaming Jackson the day her mama and daddy brought him home. Graham holding their laughing crew in his armchair. Her mama kicking up a leg, brandishing a one-dollar bill outside her salon.

The photographs depicted fruitfulness, productivity, blessings. Evelyn considered their accomplishments, what her aunts and uncles had striven for. Was it all based on a lie? She had half a mind to scratch off the coating to find the ugliness their smiling faces concealed.

Evelyn gathered her energy and dragged the box to her room. There, she upended it, watching images cascade onto the floor. She rubbed her hands together, relishing the project ahead of her.

For the next few hours Evelyn threw herself into grouping them based on the year they were taken. Sometimes she guesstimated, studying their clothes, where they were, or the subject. Lionel’s Members Only jacket got him thrown into the 1980s pile. A photograph of her posing with her parents and Yolanda on the steps of the Capitol was placed in the 1990s because Lionel had graduated from George Washington University in 1999. Jackson’s baby pictures landed him in the new millennium stack.

She was grooving along when she happened upon a large copy of one of the two photographs hanging in Granny B’s front room. In it, Granny B commanded center stage, her hand clutching the head of a doe-eyed Sarah, pinning her to a spot just to Granny B’s left. Little Ed stood partially behind his baby sister and his mama, his arms intertwined with a statuesque Elisabeth, a young woman of seventeen. For once, she and Little Ed refrained from punching or chasing each other. To Elisabeth’s left Ruthena, with her long plaits, clung to the fringes, looking as if she would rather be somewhere else—perhaps crouching on bended knee at the church. On Granny B’s right Thomas held a slight four-year-old Milton, who always seemed small for his age. Mary’s toothy smile shone just beside Thomas’s right shoulder. They all grinned at the unknown photographer, the day Elisabeth finished high school, the day before she graduated from the Spring Hope school of hard knocks and left home for good.

Evelyn peered at the differences in hairstyles and hair textures, the aquiline noses and flaring nostrils and skin tones that ranged from fairest Mary to bittersweet chocolate–flavored Milton. She wondered about what Hewitt looked like and which of his children looked most like him. Did Ruthena’s wavy hair remind Granny B of her lost love? Or did Thomas’s mellifluous voice that served him so well in the courtroom strike a discordant note in her grandmother’s ear? Most likely it was Milton’s sturdy frame and jawline that caused her the most pain.

She caught Cocoa scooching under the bed with a small photograph between her teeth. Evelyn gently dislodged a black-and-white close-up of Lis, decades later, kneeling under a large tree. Her hands were tucked beneath her large belly, and she was laughing at the photographer. Evelyn smiled with her beautiful mama, imagining her daddy teasing her in that easy way of his.

“We took that at Holden Park.” Lis peered over her shoulder.

Evelyn gasped. “When did you get home?”

“Just now. I left Kevin and Jackson at Mama’s.” Lis reached down and gently took the photograph. “I remember I was about seven months pregnant, and I was feeling it. Your daddy got a babysitter and we headed over to the park. It was a beautiful park—and it was the perfect day for a picnic. He’d seen some movie—hmmm . . . what was it? And he had the idea to buy all these gourmet foods for us to eat—stuff only people in movies eat, you know what I mean?” She sounded like she relished the day.

Evelyn nodded.

“Well, I took one look at the basket and thought, ‘Ooh, fried chicken and potato salad!’ But when I opened it, I saw runny cheese and goose liver and these crackers that looked like they had seaweed in them! You should have seen your daddy when he took a bite of that pâté. It was so funny. We laughed the whole time, but boy, were we hungry!”

Evelyn soaked in the splendor of their long-ago day.

“We spent hours at the park, in spite of being hungry and all. He rubbed my feet and massaged my neck. I’d been so achy the whole pregnancy. He just pampered me. Then we held each other, and he rubbed my stomach. We discussed having another girl or another boy . . . I was so big.”

“You were so beautiful.” Evelyn took the photo from her. Then her mama’s words struck her. “You were pregnant with me.”

“Of course. Didn’t you read the back?” Mama turned the picture over.

Elisabeth, with baby #3. She blinked away tears. “Oh!”

“Yes, I was pregnant with you. And let me tell you, you kicked my butt the entire time.”

Should I apologize? Laugh?

But her mama didn’t seem to pick up on her discomfiture. “What are you doing? Where did you find this picture?”

“In the box in your closet. I’m organizing them.” She pointed at what she’d already started.

“What are you planning to do once you’re done?”

Evelyn sat back then. “Well . . .”

“I’m going to need more than a dozen albums to hold all these. Do you mind if I work with you?”

Evelyn had expected her mama to have her head before giving her a hand. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

They dove in. Every now and then they laughed over a picture or Lis explained the circumstances. More than two hours passed before they heard the chirp-chirp of the security system announce the guys’ return.

Lis leaned toward the door. “Jackson! Kevin! We’re up here!”

After the thud-thud-thud of footsteps, Jackson poked his head inside. “Mama, Granny B cooked up a storm and sent most of it with us. It’s downstairs if you’re ready to eat. What are you doing?”

“Stepping back in time,” Evelyn responded smartly.

“Why don’t you and Kevin go ahead? We’ll be down.” Once he withdrew, Lis faced Evelyn. “You haven’t asked about Mama.”

Evelyn suddenly busied herself with brushing off her shorts. “How is she?”

“She’s fine. Wondering how you’re doing.”

Evelyn stopped brushing. “Wondering about me?”

Lis held her daughter’s gaze and dug in. “Yes. She’s worried how you’re taking the news.”

“What news? That’s she dying?”

She smiled slightly. “No, that she’s a woman. She’s human. Just like you and me.”

Evelyn struggled to find her voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I imagine we’re talking about the same things, Evelyn.” Lis inclined her head slightly. “Mama told you about my father. About Hewitt. She told you about all his comings and goings, and she told you that Milton is really my half brother. That Henton is his father.”

Evelyn sat as stone.

“It’s okay, Evelyn. Mama told me.”

“It’s okay? It’s okay?” She finally scooped up her voice from between her toes. “How can you stand there and say, ‘It’s okay’?”

“Because it is. Here, come sit down.” Lis took Evelyn’s hand and led her to the window seat. She tugged gently. “Sit down, Evelyn. Please.

“Evelyn, there are so many things that can happen to a person, things that other people can’t understand—even the person involved sometimes doesn’t understand. Imagine it.” She entreated Evelyn with her free left hand. “Thirteen. Mama was thirteen when she first met Hewitt. And then two years later, there she was, living with a man, yes, her husband—”

“Of her own free will, to hear her tell it.”

“Yes, but how much free will does a girl that age have? I don’t care if it’s 2040 or 1940. She was a teenager, and she’d never been off her daddy’s farm, at least not long enough or far enough to speak of. And here comes Hewitt Agnew. Fine as wine to hear her tell it.” She grimaced. “And she was caught up, like so many girls are caught up today. She marries him and her family spits her out like something that tastes bad. She’s living with another stranger—his brother, Henton—and the man she loves who loves her maybe twice a year. What would you have her do?”

She had no idea what she would have done, but then she wasn’t Granny B, the strongest, meanest, most faithful and honest woman she knew.

“You’re looking at your grandmother through eyes that see her as she is today—not as she might have been, as she was years and years ago, when she was less than half the age that you are now! Who do you think made her who she is? What shaped her life? Her experiences made her who she is today, and I’m proud of her for it.”

“What?”

“Yes. She stuck it out when my own father left her, left us. And he never looked back. She made mistakes, but my mother was a faithful wife, a strong mother who didn’t take nothing from nobody, Evelyn. She protected us fiercely from a town that could have run her out on her ear. We could have been labeled all kinds of names. But she wouldn’t have it. She stayed there and waited for him, and yes, he took what he wanted from her. But she needed him, too.”

Evelyn listened as Granny B’s words flowed from her own mama’s mouth.

“As far as any outsider really knew, Hewitt was just Henton’s brother, and he came home from time to time. She was living in Henton’s house and her last name was Agnew, so naturally most folks assumed Hewitt was our uncle, not our daddy. I’m sure some nosy people could have timed her pregnancies with his visits, but living was pretty hard then, and who had time for that?” She seemed to consider it. “Well, maybe Mrs. Johnson, but she didn’t move there for a long time.

“Meanwhile, we had a roof over our heads and food to eat, and we went to school. And she protected us, too, by keeping us so busy and distracted, we didn’t know any better. We would have had none of those things if Mama had followed your modern way of thinking.” Lis swallowed.

“So Mama stayed there, having six children and burying two, until finally, God gave her the courage to kick my sorry daddy out. Over time, she became the Granny B you know today.” She squeezed Evelyn’s hand.

Evelyn thought she could accept all that. But not everything. “You left out one. What about Milton?”

Two tears seeped from the corners of Lis’s eyes and trickled down her otherwise-calm face. She blinked and broke their gaze for the first time. “Milton’s another matter.”

Then it was Evelyn who did the squeezing. “What do you mean?”

Lis blew out a breath. “Well, Mama didn’t have anywhere to go then, after Hewitt left. So she stayed there in Henton’s house.”

“Are you going to tell me they fell passionately in love and that he left her, too?”

“No, they didn’t, or rather, she didn’t. I don’t know if Henton loved Mama from the moment he saw her or if he just grew to love her. We can’t ask him. They spent a lot of time together in that house, and I do believe he loved us children, and she probably felt something for him, but she fought it with all she had.” She shrugged.

“But one night, the night Thomas nearly lost his finger, Mama was beside herself. She’d been looking backward and forward, blaming herself for staying with Hewitt so long and kicking him out too soon. Missing him, loving him. Hating him and herself. Just out of her mind with heartache. And that night—” Lis swallowed hard as more tears chased the others—“Henton came home drunk. When we heard Mama crying, I called for him to go see to her . . .” She brought a hand to her mouth.

Evelyn’s heart was a slowly moving stone. “Did he assault Granny B?”

Lis wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “No. That she could’ve moved past, strangely enough. But what she couldn’t forgive is her own part. She blamed herself for everything, especially for the sin in seeking physical refuge in Henton. And then she had Milton.

“At first, he reminded her of her weakness, the mistakes she’d made. But later, I think Milton stood for the love that got away—Hewitt’s and Henton’s. One man she loved who she couldn’t keep and another who loved her. I think in his own way, Henton loved her, really loved her, in a way that Hewitt never did. But for Mama, loving had caused her nothing but pain, loss, and suffering—her parents, Hewitt, children, Henton. Oh, Milton.”

Then Lis wiped her eyes again, and Evelyn could tell it was for the last time. Yet the words continued to well up and over.

“Milton symbolized all of that heartbreak, and she poured it into all of us, all the bitterness. She wouldn’t risk loving another thing, another person, or even God, who allowed it to happen. So more and more, love became this work you do, not a joy or a gift you feel or extend. Henton stuck around for a while after his son was born. But then I guess he assumed the blame. He probably knew Mama couldn’t take him anymore either, so he left. Leaving her the house and the land—everything.”

“So the Social Security that Granny B gets—”

“Is from Hewitt. She was his wife, not Henton’s.” Lis’s now-dry eyes searched her daughter’s. “Are you still angry?”

“I never said—”

“You were angry. And hurt. Disappointed, too. But there was no need. It’s sorrow we should feel. I hope you see that now.”

Evelyn looked away, but a finger forced her head back.

“And I hope you see some other things.”

“What things?”

“Why I’ve been so concerned.”

Evelyn laughed shortly. “Concern. That’s what you call it?”

“Yes. You are so much like Mama, Evelyn. Holding things in, creating your own hell.”

Evelyn thought of Yolanda’s words.

“Yes, you are like her.” Her hand gripped Evelyn’s, and her eyes devoured her daughter’s face. “And as much as I love her and admire her, I don’t want you to be like her. I don’t want you to live like she did, all alone, with a child she viewed as punishment, a life she had to endure. I want you to look at this baby as an opportunity, as a blessing, and not as a rope tied round your neck.”

“You look at raising children as a job, a punishment even. Where is the joy?” Evelyn’s own words haunted her.

“Have you even talked about the baby with Kevin since he’s been here?” Lis released her hand to grasp both shoulders. “What Mama went through? Each pregnancy, each baby, tied her inextricably to Hewitt, even to Henton. And I don’t know what I would have done. Probably resented each nappy-haired one of us.”

“And she does.”

“Yes, she does, or at least she did. But she loves us, too, more than she can even say on a piece of paper. But you, Evelyn, you’re not living Mama’s life. You have a loving husband. He did something terrible, almost unforgivable—”

“Mama!”

“—but he’s a good man, I know. And this life you’re carrying is just as special as each of you is to me. And you need to act like it.”

She brushed away her mama’s hands and rose. “I know all this.”

“Then act like it.” Lis remained seated.

“I just didn’t plan any of this.” And by this, she meant Kevin’s unfaithfulness, the separation, Granny B’s illness, the pregnancy.

“So what? Neither did I. Not Lionel or Yolanda or Jackson either.”

Immediately Evelyn pictured helping Granny B gather linen at the clothesline. It felt like years before but was only weeks. “Getting pregnant was not in my plans, and being a single parent most definitely isn’t.”

“You think dyin’ was in mine?”

Evelyn shrugged off the image. “But you wanted to have children, even if you didn’t know when. I didn’t plan to have children at all.”

“So what? Now, I’ve sat back and let you and Kevin—”

“Sat back?”

“—act like nothing strange was happening, but I can’t let you ignore what’s going on.”

Evelyn studied the floor, the bed, the wall behind the bed, and the window behind them that framed the pewter skies outside. But that didn’t seem to stop Lis from approaching Evelyn. She again took both her daughter’s hands and cradled them. “Evelyn,” she whispered.

Evelyn stared at the clock on the nightstand, willing the second hand to stop and freeze everything in the room—everything but her, allowing her to escape.

“Evelyn Beatrice, look at me.” Lis didn’t raise her voice.

She obeyed.

“Child, child,” Mama groaned, pulling her close.

How long had it been since her mama had held her tightly enough to squeeze the breath from her? How long since she’d wanted her to? Evelyn clung to her and poured out her sorrow for Granny B and for herself. Her mama tenderly ran her fingers through Evelyn’s spiky strands and held her. When Evelyn pulled back slightly, it wasn’t because she wanted to. She desperately needed a tissue.

Lis reached into the pocket of her jumpsuit and offered her ever-present handkerchief. She placed a hand on each of her daughter’s shoulders. “Better?”

Evelyn nodded.

“Girl, I’ve tried to blaze the trails before you. I don’t want you to waste time making my mistakes. My mama’s mistakes. What would be the point? I remember when I found out I was pregnant with Lionel. I was scared to death! And I was scared to death with Yolanda, and with you, and definitely with Jackson since I was nearing fifty years old. And I know you must be out of your mind, too.”

Lis nodded toward the handkerchief and was quiet until Evelyn wiped her overflowing eyes and nose. “I know you’re mad, too. Mad at yourself for allowing this to happen. At your husband for forcing your hand. At me for buttin’ in . . . Everybody! But that’s okay. Be mad. Mama stormed around the house every pregnancy. But when the time came, she did what she had to do, and so will you. Because of love, Evelyn. Love. That’s the only reason I put up with your sassy tongue—hush, now.”

Evelyn closed her mouth.

“That’s the reason Mama put up with what she had to, and I’m sure it’s why she’s giving us all such a hard time now. She’s trying to do what’s best for us and for herself, and just like children, we’re fighting it. But joy is wrapped up in the love God gave us. Mama didn’t hold on to it, but you can. You will. You have a responsibility as God’s child, my daughter, and that baby’s mother.”

Lis sighed. “Now, I’m going down to see if my eighteen-year-old left us anything for dinner. And I’m sure that husband of yours, who stomped around Mama’s house all afternoon, is dying to know whether we’ve finally killed each other.”

Lis looked at her squarely. “I’m sure you have things to do. Right, Evelyn?” Her mama kissed her on the cheek and patted her softly on each shoulder. Then she let Evelyn go.