Ophelia’s head dropped forward as she nodded off. His father shot concerned looks Jeremiah’s way as if to verify his son was holding up okay.
Dr. Rosenthal, wearing a crumpled blue gown with a matching hat, strode into the waiting room. He pulled the mask away from his face and smiled. “Mr. Jeffries you are the proud papa of a seven pound baby boy. You can see your wife and child now. The baby had a hard time during birth. Not to worry though. He’s in the nursery. We’re going to keep him there overnight as a precaution.”
Jeremiah looked vulnerable. He frowned and said, “Take me to the child.”
When Jeremiah arrived at the nursery, babies wailed and others slept in the sterile environment. The nurse led him to a crib with Baby Jeffries marked on it.
As Jeremiah looked down at the infant curled in a fetal position with his thumb stuck in his mouth, the ice that had encased his heart since his breakup with Melissa thawed a bit. The infant had a head of curly black hair and his nosed was shaped like his mother’s. The baby looked up at Jeremiah, yawned and closed his eyes.
Jeremiah caressed the baby’s cheek and his mouth curved into a wry smile. Before he could stop himself, as he picked up the baby and hugged him, a tear slipped down his cheek.
Jeremiah requested a blood test be done immediately to determine paternity of the child. Two weeks later, the results were returned. Jeremiah Joseph Jeffries III was indeed his son.
Chapter Twenty-One
The years forged ahead as everyone went about the business of living. Melissa left California shortly after Michaela’s birth and became the family gypsy. She stayed in various parts of the United States honing her craft. She eventually took a position as station director of the Political Desk with Fox News in Chicago. She never returned to California.
Nancy became the go-between as far as the Cooke’s and her great-granddaughter were concerned.
Melissa dated many men in hopes of putting the ghost of Jeremiah to rest but she wasn’t ever able to sustain a relationship with another as she did Jeremiah.
Bobo and Connie didn’t marry but considered each their significant other. His graphic arts business boomed. He often joked how he’d inherited his business savvy from Uncle Nate. By his thirtieth birthday, Bobo attained millionaire status.
Connie remained in Atlanta and was employed as District Manager for the Marriott Hotel chain. She and Bobo shared a long distance relationship long before it was fashionable.
Nancy, in her sixties, retired from work. She flew to California frequently to visit Michaela, forwarding pictures of the child to Melissa.
Michaela grew into a pretty child, then a beautiful young woman taller than Melissa. Jeremiah’s smile was superimposed on Michaela Jerique’s face. Like her biological mother, Michaela had one dimple that flashed when she smiled. Nina eventually conceived two sons after Michaela’s birth.
Jeremiah and Moniqa struck a truce of sorts and continued the marriage, for the sake of their son. Jeremiah didn’t want the boy to grow up fatherless. Though home rarely, when he was he lavished his attention on Jay as the baby was dubbed. He and Moniqa shared a spacious home in the upscale Buckhead area.
Jay was the spitting image of his mother. When Moniqa enrolled him in kindergarten, Vanessa relocated from Chicago to Atlanta to be near her family.
In the year 2000, Jeremiah, a successful oncologist, was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer. He kept the news from his family until it was obvious to all that something was dreadfully wrong. Jay was away from Atlanta, in Washington DC, a freshman at Howard University.
Jeremiah’s sisters were tested as potential donors as well as his parents. None proved to be a good match. Ophelia, at her wits end, suggested Jay be tested. All hell broke loose when the tests were returned. Moniqa’s charade of a marriage ended. It had taken twenty years for her lies to be exposed.
The results, with a with ninety-nine percent accuracy rate, proclaimed Jeremiah wasn’t Jay’s biological father.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bobo was in line at an Avis car rental one bright June spring morning, impatiently waiting his turn. A bedraggled couple was in front of him, and a businessman ahead of them. Two harried-looking clerks processed the requests. Bobo glanced at his watch. His flight had only been half an hour late but the airport was unusually crowded for that time of the morning. He’d assumed taking the first flight from Chicago would enable him to bypass traffic. No such luck. His eyes wandered over to a woman standing in another line with outstretched arms as she was checked with a metal detector.
Bobo dropped his suitcase on the floor next to him, turning as he felt a poke in his ribs. Connie stood on her tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek, handing him a cup of Starbucks latte.
“I decided to surprise you,” she said. Her short, frosted hair looked slightly mussed as if she’d just gotten out of bed. She ran her fingers through her locks and smiled up at him. “I also decided to play hooky from work and spend the day with you?”
Bobo grinned. “How nice of you?” They moved ahead in the line as the couple in front departed. “I’m flattered. I know how you hate missing work.”
“Well, I know you talked to Melissa about Jeremiah,” Connie confessed as her face set into a serious expression. “Of course I want to know what she said.”
Bobo moved to the counter and removed his driver’s license from his wallet. Avis had his credit card number on file.
“Good morning,” the clerk greeted him as she punched his information into her terminal. “We have a black Ford Explorer available. Is that okay with you, sir?”
Thirty minutes later, they sat in the black leather interior of the vehicle and pulled into traffic. “How about stopping for breakfast?” Bobo suggested.
“Hmm. Sounds good to me,” Connie murmured, adjusting her seat.
* * *
An hour later, they were seated in the living room of Connie’s Alpharetta townhouse. Connie had a passion for the color red. Her living room walls were painted red, accessorized with a black leather sofa, loveseat and chair. A clear glass table trimmed with black wrought iron sat on the sides and front of the sofa. Mexican paintings adorned the walls that had artifacts on shelves. A large screen Mitsubishi television rested alongside a fireplace and a small stereo was in a corner of the room. Pictures of her family and Melissa adorned the mantle of the fireplace. The room was cozy and inviting.
Connie returned from the kitchen with tall glasses of lemonade for herself and Bobo. She turned the air conditioner on as the room was becoming stuffy.
She handed Bobo a glass and took a sip from the other. “Are you going to see J this morning?” Connie asked after she’d put the glass on a coaster.
Bobo nodded his head. “I am. Mel is going to talk to Nina about Michaela being tested as a donor. Melissa is flying to California this weekend even though she’s not happy about the situation. Nancy is going with her and they are going to talk to Michaela about her parentage.” Bobo covered his mouth stifling a yawn.
“You look tired,” Connie remarked, touching his arm. “Why don’t you take a nap and then we can go see J when you’re done.”
Bobo stretched his arms and legs. He took Connie’s hands and pulled her up. “Why don’t you join me?” he asked seductively.
She took him by the hand and led him into her red bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Susan Bell, Melissa’s administrative assistant, leaned over Melissa’s desk to get her boss’s signature on a couple of requisitions.
“Sue, would you hold my calls for half an hour?” Melissa asked as Sue walked out of the room. Then she scooted her ergonomic chair away from her untidy glass-topped desk and toward the window facing Lake Michigan. She chewed on a raggedy cuticle on her left thumb as she looked outside.
Melissa and Nancy were scheduled to fly to California the next morning and Melissa was at the office tying up loose ends. She planned to be away for about three weeks but had an open ended return date. Her eyes str
ayed to the telephone. She felt a strong urge to pick it up and call Jeremiah. She longed to hear his voice.
Melissa sensed a formidable task lay ahead of her. She’d never planned on opening that particular Pandora’s box. Instead, here she was headed to California to do just that.
Over the years, when Nancy brought pictures of Michaela back with her from California, Melissa devoured her daughter’s face hungrily. Michaela was popular in school and a champion for the underdog. She hadn’t quite decided on a major but was leaning toward psychology. Melissa prayed with all her might that what she had to tell Michaela wouldn’t damage her psyche.
Melissa planned to ask Michaela to be tested as a bone marrow donor for Jeremiah. The arduous task of breaking the news to Jeremiah about their child also lay ahead. Bobo volunteered to do so in her stead. But she knew this was a demon she would have to face head on.
At twelve o’clock noon, Melissa locked her office door. She stopped by her manager’s office and assured her that she could be reached by cell phone if an emergency arose. Melissa drove home and watered her plants then she finished packing. A car delivered her to Nancy’s apartment.
Melissa rented a limousine to take them to the airport. Before long they were airborne. Nancy dozed off on the nearly deserted flight. Melissa’s stomach felt tied in knots. She still hadn’t figured out what she was going to say to Michaela.
Melissa and Nina had talked on the telephone two nights in a row. Michaela was still unaware of her true parentage. Nina and Jacob felt Melissa should be the one to divulge the information.
Melissa brow was creased with worry as she stared out the window. Nancy snored lightly as her head dipped toward Melissa’s shoulder. What can I possibly say to Michaela to make her understand what happened so long ago? What if she hates me? I can’t blame her if she does. Dang, I should have told her the truth before now. There are so many wrongs I’ve got to right, starting with my daughter.
Michaela was in her second year of school at USC. Melissa removed Michaela’s prom picture from her wallet. The pretty young woman shamelessly mugged before the camera. Melissa’s smiled. Her daughter’s resemblance to Jeremiah was eerie. They could have been twins. Michaela wore her golden-brown hair styled in microbraids. The dimple in her left cheek branded her Melissa’s daughter.
* * *
Four hours later, a limousine deposited the weary travelers in front of a ritzy Beverly Hills cabana.
Melissa felt the dwelling would be a more intimate setting for the chore that lie ahead.
Nancy lay in one of the bedroom napping. Before she dozed off, Nancy told Melissa that she felt optimistic Jeremiah’s illness would unite, mother, daughter and father. The time had come for the truth to be revealed, no matter how painful.
Melissa sighed as she hung up the telephone. Nina and Michaela would arrive at 6:00 that evening. Melissa body shook with anxiety. Thoughts of everything that could go wrong swirled in her mind.
Nancy awakened before Melissa did and peeped her head inside the master bedroom. Her granddaughter was fast asleep. Nancy checked her watch it was 4:00 pm. There was still time for Melissa to sleep before Nina and Michaela arrived.
At 4:30, Melissa showered and changed clothes. She ordered light food and beverages from a local caterer. She’d chewed her fingernails down to nubs in her trepidation.
Nancy sat on the love seat, nervously changing the television channel over and over. She looked outside the window and saw Nina and Michaela walking up the footpath. “They’re here,” she shouted to Melissa who was in the bedroom.
Nancy opened the door. She hugged Nina who looked solemn, and Michaela wore a puzzled expression on her face. Melissa exited the bedroom and on quaking limbs walked into the sitting room.
“This is my granddaughter, Melissa.” Nancy introduced mother and daughter. Michaela grasped Melissa’s hand with a firm grip.
Nina and Michaela sat on the burgundy and ecru striped couch. Michaela looked around the room in awe. “I’ve never seem anything like this except in the movies,” she remarked.
The room was fashionably decorated with matching window treatments. A bouquet of lilies sat arranged tastefully in a crystal vase in the middle of the Scandinavian wood dining room table.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Melissa offered. Her hands shook. She clasped them together as she stood near the entrance of the dining room. Melissa couldn’t keep her eyes off Michaela’s face.
Michaela stretched her long legs in front of her as she peered curiously at Melissa.
“I’d like orange juice, if you have it,” Michaela murmured.
“I ordered finger sandwiches, egg rolls, and crab cakes,” Melissa said before walking into the kitchenette. She returned with trays of food as Nancy and Nina exchanged pleasantries.
Michaela regaled the women with anecdotes from her college experiences.
The conversation lagged. “Well,” Melissa and Nina said at the same time.
Melissa nervously tugged a lock of her hair looking tensely at Michaela. “I guess you’re wondering why you’re here.”
“I have to admit I’m curious,” Michaela answered, looking at Nina. “Everyone looks so solemn, like we’re at a funeral or something.”
Nina leaned forward in her seat and coughed nervously. “It might be better if I told her.” She looked from Nancy to Melissa then turned to Michaela and grabbed her hand.
Michaela’s eyes widened at her mother’s words. Her face crumpled with agony as she listened to Nina. She shook her head from side to side, her braids swaying violently from her movements.
When Nina said that Melissa was Michaela’s biological mother, the young woman wailed, “Noooo,” hopped up from the seat, fumbled at the doorknob and fled from the house. Nina looked helpless for a moment, and then said she’d talk to Michaela and went outdoors.
Melissa collapsed in tears, holding her hands over her face.
Nina returned twenty minutes later, wringing her hands. “It probably would have been better if I’d told her alone. Give her time Melissa, she’ll come around.” Nina squeezed Melissa’s arm.
Nancy walked over to Melissa who sat sobbing and rocking in the chair.
She looked up at Nancy with tear-stained eyes. “What if she doesn’t come around, Nana? What’s going to happen to Jeremiah?” She burst into another round tears. Nancy held her helplessly in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rat-a-tat. Bobo knocked on Jeremiah’s hospital door and pushed it open. Music from Jeremiah’s favorite R&B station played on the radio. He lay on the bed with his eyes closed then opened them to see Bobo. Jeremiah flashed him a smile and gestured for him to sit down.
A few scraggily bouquets of flowers were dropped on the nightstand. Bobo’s eyes scanned his friend’s face and body. The edges of Jeremiah’s hair had dulled and grayed. He looked tired. The light was missing from his eyes.
Jeremiah weakly cleared his throat. “What brings you all the way here to Georgia? I must be worse off than the doctors are telling me,” he joked.
Bobo walked to him and held his frail hand. The cancer had even thinned Jeremiah’s face. Bobo fought back tears.
He sighed and sat heavily in the seat next to the bed. An IV snaked through the sheet. “I decided to take some time off work. That’s one of the perks of being the boss. I had to come down and see my buddy. How are you doing, man?”
“Oh fair to middling.” Jeremiah smiled. “I have good days and bad. It’s been a bitch trying to find a bone marrow match.” He sat up in the bed and pulled his dressing gown down.
“Man, if I could…” Bobo gulped. “If I thought I would be a match, I’d donate tomorrow.” Bobo tried to smile.
“Don’t worry about it. Whatever is meant to be will be.” Jeremiah lay exhausted against the pillows. He shut his eyes for a moment. “How is our girl?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“She’s doing fine. Still traveling all over the place.”
“H
mm. That’s good.” Jeremiah looked at Bobo and said hesitantly, “I guess you heard Jay isn’t my biological son?”
“Yeah, man, I did. What can I say other than Moniqa is a snake in the grass. I thought a DNA test was performed when Jay was born to prove paternity?”
“You’re right. I did request for one to be done. Moniqa and Vanessa bribed a lab technician. If I hadn’t become ill, I would have gone to my grave, not knowing the truth. When the results came back, I was shocked to say the least. Jay hasn’t spoken to Moniqa or Vanessa since then.”
The room boomed with Jeremiah harsh coughing. The sound filled Bobo with dismay and he rose to pour Jeremiah a cup of water. He held it to his friend’s mouth to drink.
“I did my best to reassure Jay that none of that matters. He is still my son. Still, he’s pretty bummed out.”
“I would imagine so,” Bobo replied, looking into Jeremiah’s face.
“It took me twenty years but I’ve finally filed for a divorce. The odds are not great as to my life expectancy, so I’m going to stay with my parents for a while...” Jeremiah voice trailed off.
Bobo wanted so badly to tell his friend there was hope. They talked until Connie arrived. When she stepped over the threshold and entered the room, Connie’s face blanched when she saw how gaunt Jeremiah looked. Bobo could see that she put a fake smile on her face, trying her best to hide her shock.
Bobo and Connie left half an hour later with somber expressions on their faces.
“He looks like his life force is draining from his body,” Connie remarked as she buckled her seatbelt. “J has aged twenty years.”
“You would too,” Bobo said as he pulled out into traffic. He shook his head. “If you lived all those years with Moniqa.”
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