I glanced around the massive home. If this wasn’t wealthy, I didn’t know what was.
“Regardless, we are also cognizant of the games people play.” Phillip stopped his examination and folded his arms across his chest.
“Look, what’s your name again?” I asked.
“Phillip Logan,” he said with authority, like he was used to spouting his name and instantly commanding respect.
“Phillip,” I repeated, not bothering to hide my disdain. “I didn’t come after your aunt and uncle. They came after me.”
“That’s how scam artists usually set things up.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Okay, everybody calm down,” Major said. “This is a joyous occasion.”
“Well, I just think those individuals that you invite into our home, your life, should be more fully vetted,” Phillip said, his voice dripping with disdain.
“You know what?” I snapped, “A week ago, I didn’t even know you people. But you know what, let’s go ahead and have your doctor administer this DNA test so that I can put an end to this.” I turned to Mrs. Logan. “And I am so sorry that you’re having to endure this, but hopefully it will give you some closure as you search for your real daughter.”
Those words looked like they pained her but she simply nodded. I turned to Dr. Winters. “Let’s get this over with, please.”
They had no idea. I was suddenly anxious to put an end to this outlandish theory, chalk all of these unanswered questions up to coincidences, and then go back and resume my life.
Chapter 14
The piece of paper trembled in my hand. I had to have memorized every number, every letter, every percentage point on this paper. I’d analyzed and scrutinized all the ways that this could be wrong but in my heart I knew it was right.
Major had shown up at my job this morning, papers in hand, ready to take a family portrait. It had been forty-eight hours since we’d taken the test and I knew he was anxious. He’d wanted me to open the sealed envelope right there in Starbucks, but I’d refused. My gut already knew what the paper said and I didn’t need my co-workers seeing me have a meltdown.
But if I was to have a meltdown, Major and Elaine would be right there to see it all, because they sat out in the parking lot until I finished my shift.
I was full of trepidation as I headed out to their car after I finally got off. There was no driver this time. Just Major and Elaine, and just like last time, she was in the back seat. Judging by the antsy looks on their faces, I could tell they had no idea what the paper said.
“Are you ready?” Major asked me after I was seated in the back seat next to his wife. We’d all agreed that we would open the results together.
“I guess,” I said, my voice soft. He handed the envelope to me. I turned it over and studied it to make sure the seal hadn’t been tampered with. When I was sure that it hadn’t, I flipped the envelope back over and opened it. When I’d pulled the results out of the envelope, silence filled the car as everyone waited with bated breath.
My eyes scanned the numbers that meant nothing to me . . . I went to the bottom of the page to a paragraph that said “Conclusion.” My heart dropped at the third paragraph:
Assuming the specimens are from the persons indicated, the alleged father, Major Logan, cannot be excluded as the biological father of the child, Jillian Harrison, since they share genetic markers. Using the above systems, the probability of paternity is 99.9999%. . . .
“Oh my. God,” I whispered.
Elaine gently took the paper from my hand.
“Thank you, God!” she shouted, reaching over and hugging me as a cascade of tears tumbled down her cheeks. “I knew it. I just knew it!”
“Our daughter is home!” Major said, reaching over the seat to squeeze my hand.
I was numb for the next twenty minutes. Major and Elaine were making plans—talking about Elaine and me meeting up for lunch for some one-on-one, mother-daughter bonding time, their meeting Destiny and being grandparents—and all I could think was one thing: My whole life was a lie.
I’d left the Logans, crying all the way home. And now, I had been sitting in front of my town house for the last hour. I was unable to go inside because I didn’t know how I could look the woman who I thought was my mother in the eyes.
Maybe I was switched at birth, I told myself. Maybe my mother didn’t know I wasn’t her biological child. Maybe anything, I thought. Because there was no way my mother could be a kidnapper.
I’d been contemplating all kinds of maybes on my drive home. But none of them were giving me solace.
I made my way inside the town house just in time for Malcolm to say, “Okay, I’m glad you got back here. I was wondering if I would make it in time for this second interview.”
I’d been so caught up in my drama that I’d forgotten that he had a callback interview. “Sorry, baby,” I said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Are you okay?” he asked, studying me. My husband could be in his own world, especially when he was working on his app. But he had this uncanny knack to be directly in tune with me.
I nodded. I knew I needed to share these results with him, but right now, I was just numb. Right now, I didn’t know what to say. Besides, I needed him to focus on his interview.
“Where’s Mama?” I asked.
“She’s in her room playing with Destiny.”
“Alone?” I asked.
He nodded as he adjusted his tie. “Yeah, she’s been doing pretty good all day.”
Normally, that declaration would have had me feeling good but today, I had mixed emotions about that. Maybe if my mother was in her right mind, I could get some answers. And then again, maybe my questions would send her over the edge. Either way, I knew that I had to find a way to approach my mother with this, no matter what the outcome.
“Don’t forget dinner at my mom’s tonight,” Malcom reminded me. “I told her we’d be there by seven. I already called Aunt Marilyn. She’ll be over here to watch your mother by six.”
I kissed Malcolm goodbye, took a deep breath, and then headed toward my mother’s bedroom.
“Hey, Mama,” I said, easing her door open. The paper was now folded in a trifold in my hand.
“Hello, sweetheart,” my mother said. She glanced over at my daughter, fast asleep on her bed. “You see Destiny has dozed off and gone to sleep. I’m just sitting here reading.” I smiled at the book in her hand.
“I’m glad you got back into reading,” I said. Growing up, my mother had ignited my love of books by reading to me every chance she had. We couldn’t afford to travel, but we would explore the world through the pages of a book. That was yet another thing dementia had robbed her of—her love of reading.
“Yeah. Oprah recommended this book called American Marriage. It’s good but it’s hard when you can’t always follow along . . .” She let her words trail off.
“Mama, I need to speak to you about something.”
She set her book down and tucked the little blanket around Destiny, and then eased off the bed.
“Okay. Destiny is sound asleep. Let’s talk out here so we don’t wake her.”
I followed my mother out into the hallway. “Let’s go into my room,” I said.
“Is everything okay?” she asked me after we were in my room. “Are you and Malcolm having problems?”
“No, no,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Nothing like that.” I swallowed, then released a breath. “Mama, tell me about my daddy again.”
She narrowed her eyed in confusion. “What? Why do you want me to rehash that story?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Just trying to figure some things out.”
“Well, your dad loved you very much,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “And I do, too. I don’t know why we’re having this conversation.”
I unfolded the paper and extended it toward her. “My birth has never really added up. But, you always had an excuse for
the inconsistencies,” I told her. “But this . . .”
“What is this?” she asked, taking the paper.
“It’s a paternity test.”
“What?” she exclaimed, her eyes widened in shock as she eased down onto the bed.
“The man who showed up at my job last week and said he’s my father,” I continued before I lost my nerve.
“And you believed him? And you took a paternity test?” She looked up at me in shock.
I studied her, trying to gauge her reaction, search for some hint of . . . something that could explain this.
I moved closer so that I was standing right over her. “Mama, I need you to look me in my eyes and tell me the truth.”
My mother looked up and with a wide smile said with conviction, “Jilly, I promise you. You are my daughter.”
That made me smile as well. Test or no test, Connie Harrison was my mother. I just needed to make sense of this birth revelation and figure out how this mix-up happened.
Chapter 15
If Kendra was upset about the fiasco at her wedding, she wasn’t showing it. I’d been apprehensive about joining Malcolm and his family for their monthly family dinner. Normally, we held them on Sundays, but this week Mrs. Reed was doing it on Friday because it was Kendra’s birthday.
This was going to be the first time we’d all been together since Mama had ruined (or almost ruined) Kendra’s wedding. I was prepared for the cold shoulder from everyone—including my dear friend of fifteen years. But the way Kendra embraced me when we arrived let me know that she wasn’t harboring any ill will.
“Girl, why haven’t you been in touch?” she asked. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about the fabulous honeymoon or anything.”
“I—I don’t know. I was just trying to give you some space.” I sighed. “Look, Kendra. I’m really sorry—”
She cut me off and said, “We’re here to have a good time and celebrate my birthday. You know I don’t live in the past. And you know I have nothing but love for Mama Connie.”
That brought a smile to my face. “Come on and let me show you these pictures from our honeymoon,” she continued. And just like that, we slipped back into old times.
We’d been there about an hour when Mrs. Reed summoned us for dinner. I marveled as I watched the ease with which Malcolm and his siblings all fell into their respective places. Kendra and Travis, me and Malcolm, his brother Clay and Clay’s girlfriend of the week, and their brother Billy. I always loved being around them because they were the definition of a family. They laughed together, played together, and if you dared cross one of them you’d have to deal with them all.
Billy started talking about his date last night and had everybody at the table cracking up. “And I kid you not, she has three teeth,” he said.
“Billy, stop lying.” Mrs. Reed said.
“Mama you know he’s always making up stuff. The boy should have been a fiction writer,” Malcolm said.
“I should have been because my life is a best seller.” Billy laughed.
I smiled as I watched the banter between them. Being here made me sad from time to time because it made me wish that I’d had a sibling to fight with, a sister to steal clothes from, a brother to aggravate. Granted, I enjoyed my time with Mama, but it made me question the definition of a family. Could you really have a family with just two people? That’s what it had been with me and Mama. I don’t know why, but I started thinking about the Logans. What if I had not been kidnapped, would they have had more kids? Would I have gone to private school, an Ivy League college, married someone other than Malcolm? That latter part made me feel like my life had unfolded just as it was meant to because I couldn’t imagine being married to anyone other than Malcolm. But I couldn’t help but wonder about the what-ifs.
After we wrapped up dinner and said our goodbyes, Malcolm took my hand as we walked to the car. Once we were inside and heading down Highway 6, he asked, “Babe, what’s going on? You didn’t seem like yourself the entire time.”
I gave him a smile. “I’m so sorry.” I took a deep breath as we passed a luxury car just like the one Mr. Logan had. “I need to talk to you about something.”
My tone must’ve worried him because he studied me for a moment, then said, “Hold on,” and pulled over in a Target parking lot. “What’s going on, babe?”
“I have been out of it because . . .” I inhaled again.
“Yes?” he motioned for me to continue. I took my husband’s hand and squeezed it. “Babe, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” he said.
“I met with the Logans,” I said with a sigh.
“What?” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. I didn’t want to tell you before your interview. Then when you got back we were running late for dinner. Anyway, I went down there to tell them that they made a big mistake.”
“Down where?”
“They live in Beaumont. I went to just talk to them and tell them they made a mistake and then their nephew, Phillip, just started making all these snide remarks.” I stopped talking for a moment, took a deep breath, and then continued. “Next thing I know, I was taking a DNA test.” I rushed the words out.
“What?” he exclaimed. “All of this was going on and you didn’t tell me?”
I hoped he didn’t get angry because right then, I couldn’t deal with that on top of everything else. “I’m telling you now. It’s just been overwhelming,” I replied.
“Okay.” I could tell he was trying to control his emotions. “So, what did the DNA test say?”
I turned to face him, fought back my tears, and said, “I’m not who I thought I was. The DNA was a match with Major Logan.”
That caused Malcolm to fall back onto the seat. “I knew it. I knew it,” he said, then took my hands. “Babe, I’m sorry you have to go through this.” He kissed my fingers.
“It’s just so many questions. I have so many questions,” I said.
“Well, now we know,” Malcolm replied. “So the key thing is for us to get some answers, and I’m with you every step of the way.”
Usually, that made me feel better. Not this time. This time, I couldn’t help but feel we both were in for a rocky journey.
Chapter 16
Maybe I should have left my husband at home. Yes, I wanted Malcolm by my side as I was officially introduced to the Logan family. I knew he would immediately be enamored, and that could potentially cloud his judgment. And judging from his wide eyes as we pulled up in front of the Logans’ massive home, I had been right.
“Wow,” he said as we pulled into the Logans’ gate, drove up the mile-long driveway and onto the sprawling estate.
“I told you it was nice,” I said as I motioned for him to park in the circular driveway, then led him up the walkway.
“So you mean to tell me this is how you should have really been living?” he whispered after we were out of the car and walking up the stairs that led to the mahogany double front door.
I took a deep breath and struggled to fight off my irritation at my husband. It was only natural that he would be in awe of this place. But this was a life-changing experience for me. I needed his head clear and I didn’t want to be sidetracked by the material things. The Logans had insisted that I bring Malcolm to dinner so that they could meet him. They wanted me to bring Destiny, too. Even though she really wouldn’t understand what was going on, I wasn’t ready for that, so the sitter was at my house watching both my mother and daughter.
“I lived how I should have been living,” I replied. The one thing I didn’t want was to have the Logan money make me lose sight of the life I had built with my mother. No, it had not been rich in material things, but it had been rich in love and I didn’t want that overshadowed by the wealth of the Logans.
“Did you ring the doorbell?” Malcolm asked. He was shifting like he was antsy.
“I did and will you calm down?” I told him.
He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “I’m trying. I just can’t believe this . . . And . . .” He motioned around the palatial estate. “This. It’s all just so overwhelming.”
“I know,” I said, biting my bottom lip as I turned my attention back to the door.
Malcolm must’ve noticed my expression and remembered this day was about me, because he took me in his arms. “I got you, babe. I know you’re conflicted about this, but you said yourself that you want to know who you are. And it’s time for you to do that.”
I nodded as he leaned in and kissed my forehead just as the door opened.
“Hello,” said a woman wearing a maid’s uniform. I didn’t even realize black people had maids like on TV. “Mr. and Mrs. Logan are expecting you.” She spun and motioned for us to follow her. We walked down the long hallway. This time, we turned left into the dining room versus right to the study that I was in the last time I was here.
I heard the chatter of several people coming from the dining room. As we rounded a corner, Major appeared.
“Jill, so nice to see you,” he said, embracing me. “And you must be Malcolm?” He extended his hand and fiercely shook Malcolm’s hand.
Malcolm returned his enthusiastic greeting. “Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It is my pleasure,” he replied. “I’m so looking forward to learning more about,” he paused as if he was trying to make sure it was okay to say the next words, “my son-in-law.”
Malcolm shifted uneasily, like he didn’t know how to process that. He looked over at me to gauge my reaction. I had none.
“Well, come on in,” Major said, motioning toward the dining area. “Several people are here. All of them are excited about Alicia, I mean, Jill’s return.”
I cringed. For twenty-seven years, I’d been Jillian. Surely these people didn’t expect me to suddenly accept being “Alicia.”
As we walked behind Major into the dining room, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe we should have done this alone. Not around all of these people, whoever they were. This was not only a private moment, it was a difficult one. I didn’t need a room full of strangers studying and dissecting me.
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