“You know who he is?” Consonance leaned over and asked.
I shook my head as I tried to place him. I knew all of Grant’s friends, but this man’s face didn’t look familiar. And he said he was his business partner? Grant was a fucking meteorologist. What kind of business did he have? Again, I found myself racking my brain trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Did I really know my husband as well as I thought I did?
The rest of the funeral went by with me lost in my thoughts. People from our past, his current job, and more that I didn’t know spoke on Grant’s behalf. I stood next to Quincy at the gravesite. Grant was being buried in his family’s plot. In a few days, his father would be buried between him and his mother. The only people left at the gravesite were family. Quincy had announced that we would stay until Grant was lowered into the ground. Everyone else was instructed to leave.
“Do you want to go stand next to your daddy?” I asked Cimmie. I’d learned her name on the ride from the church. She was the oldest, at six; her birthday was in eight days. And Cheryllyn was five and was in love with horses. She proudly told me that her daddy said he would buy her a horse when she turned seven if she got good grades, and she was really trying hard to get them.
“I can’t,” Cimmie said, shaking her head. Her small braids with clear beads swung back and forth.
“I’m sure Quincy wouldn’t mind,” I said, rubbing her shoulder as I continued to look around. I hadn’t seen Quincy since he’d brought Cami after she’d woken up. The two-year-old was standing next to her sisters, holding their hands and watching everyone move around them. I wasn’t surprised that Quincy had kids that no one knew about because he was the sneaky type. Heprobably had a bunch more running around that he either didn’t claim or didn’t care about enough to want to.
“Quincy isn’t my daddy,” Cimmie replied. “He’s my uncle.”
“Your uncle?” I looked down at her, slightly confused. Cimmie nodded, and I looked at all three girls closely. They shared the same brown-sugar complexion, full lips, slanted eyes, and button nose. Their hair was that dirty blonde looking color with sprinkles of dark brown, and each had a gap. There was no doubt they were Kilmores. I squatted down to get eye level with Cimmie. “Honey, who’s your daddy?”
“Him,” she said, pointing over my shoulder. I knew where her finger was aimed without having to look. “Uncle Quincy said that Daddy was in a better place and you would take care of us while he looks for Mommy.” I looked over her head to see Quincy watching us closely. He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he talked with the man from earlier. “He said that you’re our new mommy.” I looked back at Cimmie. Her eyes were big and full of tears. “Is that true? You’re our new mommy because our other mommy is missing? She and Daddy got into a fight; she’s pregnant with another baby. They were arguing about him. Daddy said the baby in mommy’s tummy was going to live with you, and you were going to be his mommy.” She blinked, and the tears in her eyes slowly fell. “You’re going to be our mommy now, Yale? With our brother that was in mommy’s tummy?”
“Your mommy is pregnant?” I wanted to throw up. This was Grant’s daughter—all three of them. Three people who walked this earth came from my husband. And he had a fourth —a little boy, resting in his mother’s stomach.
“Yeah,” Cimmie nodded. “With a boy this time. That’s why Daddy said he was going to give him to you. He said his wife would raise his son, who’d been living with him. But since mommy is missing, we get to live in your house now. You’ll be our new mommy?”
I stood so fast that I almost lost my footing, but Consonance was at my side. She’d heard everything, and I could see the wheels spinning in her head. She had questions just like I did. I wanted to make a scene, show the fuck out, but I didn’t. Instead, I took a step back, squared my shoulders, and made sure my head was held high.
“I need you to breathe,” she said quietly, and I nodded. “Whatever you’re thinking or feeling has to be held close to your vest until we can figure this shit out. You already know Quincy is looking for a reason to show out. Don’t give it to him, at least not yet.”
“They are his kids,” I said, trying not to laugh. Nothing was funny, but it was the only thing my brain was telling me to do. I needed to get it out—say it before I exploded. “They are his fucking kids, and Quincy told them they would come live with me because their mommy is missing?” I laughed humorlessly and shook my head. “I wish the fuck I would.”
I took a few steps back, away from the girls. I’d sent everyone who was here for me home, and now I was regretting it. I needed help, support; fuck it, let me be truthful, I needed Amethyst because I was spiraling. My dead husband had three kids? Possibly four, but no one knew where his baby mama was. His asshole of a brother had told his children that they were coming to stay with me. I didn’t know which way was up, and the only thing I could think of was to have Amethyst fix all this for me. He would know what to do, and his stupid ass was nowhere to be found. At this moment, I didn’t know who I hated more: him, Grant, or Quincy. They all had me fucked up for different reasons.
“Is that a problem, Yale?” Quincy questioned, stepping forward. He took a pull of his blunt and blew the smoke out. “You don’t think it’s your responsibility to take care of your husband’s children now that he’s gone?”
“No,” I answered. My eyes went to the girls who looked at me as if I’d betrayed them. “Grant made them, not with me. Find their mama. They are her responsibility.”
“She took off,” Quincy said, then took another pull. “Bitch wasn’t worth shit but what was between her legs. Now she’s gone.” The way Quincy spoke about her made me pause. Not because I was surprised, because he didn’t respect women, but because her daughters were right there. They didn’t need to hear their mother being spoken about that way, even if it were true. “So it’s either you or the system. Make your decision. I only need them for my pop funeral in a few days. After that, I couldn’t care less what happens to them.”
“I may hate Grant for this shit, but I hate you more,” I said, shaking my head. “You deserve to be dead, not him.”
“Probably,” Quincy chuckled. “But I’m here, living, breathing, and letting your ass know what’s about to go down. Them little bitches belong to you in three days.” He pointed to the little girls who were watching our entire exchange. “I don’t give a fuck about any deal that’s on the table for your protection if you don’t take them.” He took another pull of his blunt and then grilled me before walking away. “Bring y’all asses on!” The girls hesitated for a moment, then followed behind Quincy.
**
Me: I need to talk to you.
I stared at the screen, watching as my message went from delivered to read, and then, for a few moments, those three dots bounced at the bottom before disappearing. Frustrated, I pushed my hair from my face and rested my head on the pillow that still smelled like him. Amethyst still wasn’t responding to my texts or answering the phone.
Me: How the hell am I supposed to do this alone? It’s a million things hitting me at once. I just need to talk.
Again, delivered, read, and no reply.
Me: He had a family, three about to be four kids. Quincy has them, and he expects me to get them after his father’s funeral. It’s me or the system.
Delivered. Read. Three bouncing dots, but no reply.
I dropped my phone. I sat on the edge of anger and sadness. I felt for those girls; they didn’t deserve the life they were about to endure, but they weren’t my responsibility. They were Grant’s and whoever the hell their mama was. I wasn’t about to be that good of a woman. I wasn’t raising the children my husband created with another woman. I wasn’t that damn strong or stupid, whichever was the proper label. More power to the women who could handle something like that, but I wasn’t one of them.
My phone lit up, and my heart slammed against my chest. I expected it to be Amethyst, but instead it was an unknown number.
“Hello?” I answered.
