Chapter 2: The Call Nobody Wanted to Answer
Jaylen stared at his phone as if the screen might explode.
Jamiya's name flashed across it again.
For three days, we'd called her without getting a response. We'd sent messages, contacted friends, checked the places she usually visited, and even returned to the apartment where she'd left Malachi.
Nothing.
Now, with my father standing rigid beside the couch and my mother refusing to look at any of us, Jamiya was suddenly calling.
“Answer it,” I whispered.
Jaylen didn't move.
“Jaylen,” I said, louder.
“Answer your sister.””
He swiped the screen.
“Jamiya?””
For several seconds, all we heard was static and a faint sound of traffic.
Then a woman's voice came through, breathless and trembling.
“Jay?””
Jaylen closed his eyes.
“Where have you been?””
“Is Malachi okay?””
“That's the first thing you ask me?”” he demanded.
“You disappear, leave your baby with us, and won't answer your phone. We don't even know where you are!””
“Please,” Jamiya whispered.
“Just tell me he's okay.””
Jaylen looked down at the infant.
Malachi was asleep against his chest, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of the number 23 jersey.
“He's okay,” Jaylen said, his anger softening.
“He's right here with me.””
I leaned toward the phone.
“Jamiya, it's Tiana. We're at Mom and Dad's.””
The line went silent.
Then Jamiya spoke so quietly that I almost missed it.
“You took him there?””
I glanced at my father.
“Where else were we supposed to go? You didn't leave us any instructions.””
“I told you to keep him safe.””
“And we did!””
“Not there, Tiana.””
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?””
“Please tell me Dad isn't there.””
Charles took one step toward the phone.
“I'm here, Jamiya.””
The sound that came through the speaker wasn't quite a gasp.
It was worse.
It was the sound of someone realizing that the one thing she'd been trying to prevent had already happened.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
My mother sat down abruptly.
Charles held out his hand for the phone.
“Jamiya, I need you to answer some questions.””
“No.””
“Your brother says you left the baby with him. Your name is on the hospital paperwork, and mine is listed as the emergency contact. Why?””
“Dad, I can't do this over the phone.””
“Then tell me where you are.””
“I can't.””
“Why not?””
“Because you don't understand what Mom did.””
My mother rose so quickly that her chair scraped against the hardwood floor.
“Jamiya!”” she shouted.
The line crackled.
Jamiya went silent.
I stared at Mom.
“What did you do?””
“Nothing,” she said.
It was the fastest answer she'd given all afternoon.
Too fast.
Jaylen moved the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker.
“Jamiya, listen to me. Whatever happened, we need to know what we're dealing with. The baby's here. Dad saw his birthmark.””
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end.
“He saw it?””
“Yes.””
“And what did he say?””
“He didn't say much,” I answered.
“Mom started crying, and Dad looked like he was about to faint.””
“I knew this would happen.””
Charles's expression hardened.
“Knew what would happen?””
“Dad, please. I need you to listen to me.””
“I've been listening to everyone except the person who seems to know the truth. Start talking.””
Jamiya's breathing grew uneven.
“When I was eighteen, Mom told me something about you. Something I wasn't supposed to repeat.””
My mother gripped the back of her chair.
“Don't you dare.””
The words came out so harshly that even Charles turned toward her.
I felt cold.
“Mom,” I said.
“What did you tell Jamiya?””
She looked at me, then at Jaylen, then at the sleeping baby.
“Your sister is upset,” she said.
“She's confused. She's been under pressure.””
“I'm not confused!”” Jamiya shouted through the phone.
Malachi stirred at the sudden noise.
Jaylen immediately lowered his voice and rocked him.
“Hey, hey. It's okay.””
Jamiya heard him.
“Is he crying?””
“No,” Jaylen said gently.
“He's fine.””
“Don't let Mom take him.””
My mother recoiled.
“What kind of thing is that to say?””
“Jamiya,” I said, “why would you think Mom would take him?””
“Because she already tried to take me away from him.””
The room fell silent.
Charles stepped closer to the phone.
“What are you talking about?””
Jamiya began to cry.
“Three weeks ago, I went to Mom because I needed help. I had nowhere to stay, and Malachi's father wasn't answering his phone. Mom said she would help me find a place. She told me to sign some papers.””
“What papers?”” Charles demanded.
“I didn't know. She said they were for housing assistance and medical coverage. Then I found out she had been talking to someone about temporary guardianship.””
Mom shook her head violently.
“That is not what happened.””
“Then explain it!”” I shouted.
Her mouth tightened.
Jamiya continued.
“She said I wasn't ready to be a mother. She said if I didn't let her handle things, she'd make sure I lost him anyway.””
Charles turned toward my mother.
“Letreya?””
Mom pressed her lips together.
“I was trying to protect the child.””
“From what?”” I asked.
“From a situation that could destroy this family.””
“What situation?””
She didn't answer.
Instead, she walked to the coffee table, picked up the hospital paperwork, and folded it along the original creases.
“Jamiya needs to come home,” she said.
“We can discuss this when she's here.””
“No,” Jamiya said through the phone.
“I'm not coming home.””
“Then where are you?”” Jaylen asked.
“I can't tell you.””
“Are you in danger?””
A pause.
Then she answered, “I don't know.””
My throat tightened.
“Jamiya, please. You're scaring us.””
“I didn't want any of this to happen,” she whispered.
“I wanted Malachi to have a chance at a normal life.””
Charles leaned closer.
“Jamiya, is that child mine?””
The question seemed to suck the air out of the room.
My mother covered her mouth again.
Jaylen stared at Dad.
I stopped breathing.
On the phone, Jamiya made a broken sound.
“Dad…”
“Answer me.””
“I can't.””
“Is Malachi my son?””
“No!”” Mom shouted.
Everyone turned toward her.
She stood in the center of the living room, her hands shaking.
“No,” she repeated.
“That child is not Charles's son.””
But she hadn't looked at Charles when she said it.
She'd looked at Jamiya's name on the phone screen.
And Jamiya hadn't answered.
Charles's face changed.
The anger drained away, leaving something raw and wounded.
“Then why are you so afraid of this question?””
Mom reached for the phone.
Jaylen stepped back, keeping Malachi securely in his arms.
“Don't touch it,” he said.
“Give me that phone.””
“No.””
“I am your mother.””
“And she's my sister!””
His voice cracked through the room.
For once, Mom had no immediate answer.
On the speaker, Jamiya was crying openly now.
“Tiana,” she whispered.
“I'm here.””
“There's something in the blue bag. The outside pocket. I put it there because I knew Mom might try to get to him before I could explain.””
I glanced toward the diaper bag near the couch.
“What is it?””
“A photograph.””
“Of who?””
“Dad. When he was younger.””
Charles went pale.
Jamiya continued.
“And there's a letter behind it. Read the letter before you let Mom tell you anything else.””
Mom lunged toward the bag.
I caught her wrist.
“Don't.””
She stared at me as though she couldn't believe I'd touched her.
“Let go of me, Tiana.””
“Not until you tell us what's going on.””
“I'm trying to save you!””
“From what?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
For one moment, she looked less like the woman who had raised us and more like someone who had been carrying a terrible weight for so long that she'd forgotten how to stand without it.
Then she pulled her hand free.
“You think knowing everything will make this better?”” she asked.
“You think the truth is some beautiful thing that will put your family back together?””
Charles stepped between us.
“Enough, Letreya.””
She turned on him.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed for this family!””
“Then tell me!””
She looked at him.
Her lips trembled.
And then she said something none of us expected.
“Ask your brother.””
Charles went utterly still.
I frowned.
“Uncle Robert?””
Mom didn't answer.
Charles looked toward the front door as if he could see someone standing on the other side.
“My brother has been dead for twelve years,” he said.
Jamiya's voice came through the phone, barely audible.
“No, Dad.””
A long pause followed.
Then she spoke again.
“Uncle Robert isn't Malachi's father.””
My mother closed her eyes.
Jamiya continued, “But he's the reason I found out the truth about you.””
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Jaylen carefully transferred Malachi into my arms.
“Watch him for a second.””
I supported the baby's head and settled him against my shoulder while Jaylen snatched the blue diaper bag from beside the couch.
Mom stepped forward.
“Jaylen, don't.””
He opened the outside pocket.
Inside was a photograph, its edges softened with age, and a sealed envelope bearing Charles's name.
Jaylen handed the photograph to Dad.
It showed Charles as a young man standing beside another man who looked almost exactly like him.
Both were smiling.
Both wore basketball jerseys.
But the man beside my father had something else.
A curved brown birthmark visible above the waistband of his jeans.
Charles's fingers began to shake.
“That can't be,” he whispered.
Mom sank into the chair.
Jaylen opened the envelope.
A single sentence was written on the first page.
Charles, if you're reading this, it means Letreya finally ran out of time.
And beneath it was a date.
May you like
A date from twenty-five years earlier.
The year Jamiya was born.
