Chapter 2: The Man From Before
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The hospital continued around us as if nothing had happened. Shoes squeaked against polished tile. A vending machine rattled in the corner. Behind the counter, a nurse adjusted a stack of forms.
But in the small space between three chairs, my entire life was coming apart.
Simone stood between the stranger and me, holding my phone so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale.
“How do you know what Grandma called me?”” she repeated.
The man lowered his gaze.
“My name is Raymond Ellis,” he said quietly.
“Most people call me Ray.””
Simone's head snapped toward me.
“Ray?””
I pressed my palms against my knees, trying to steady my hands.
“Simone, sit down.””
“No.””
Her answer was immediate.
“Mom, you have a man saved in your phone as ‘Ray — emergency only.’ He walks in here and acts like he knows our family. Then he calls me by a name Grandma used when I was little.””
She swallowed hard.
“I'm not sitting down until somebody tells me what's going on.””
Raymond nodded slowly, as if he understood that she had every right to demand an explanation.
“Your daughter deserves the truth,” he said.
“Don't tell me what my daughter deserves.””
His jaw tightened.
“I didn't come here to fight with you, Denise.””
“Then you should have stayed away.””
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Simone stared at me.
Raymond looked as though I had struck him.
For an instant, the years showed on his face. The lines beside his eyes deepened. His shoulders sagged beneath his coat, and he looked less like the composed businessman who had walked through the doors and more like the young man I remembered from that rain-soaked hospital corridor.
“I know,” he said.
“You made that very clear.””
“Then why are you here?””
He glanced toward Simone.
“Because I got a call.””
My stomach dropped.
“What call?””
“A message from someone who said you had been in an accident. They told me you were at this hospital.””
“Who?””
“I don't know. The number was blocked.””
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.””
“I agree.””
“Then why would you come?””
Raymond's eyes moved to the bandage on my forearm.
“Because the message said you might be hurt.””
“And that gives you the right to walk into my daughter's life?””
“No,” he said.
“It gives me a reason to make sure you're alive.””
Simone looked at him carefully.
“You knew about the accident before we got here?””
“I received the message about half an hour ago.””
“From whom?””
“I wish I knew.””
She glanced at my phone, then at me.
“Did you send him the message?””
“No.””
The answer came too quickly.
Simone noticed.
“Then who else knew you were coming here?””
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Raymond pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. It was creased along the middle, as though he had carried it there for a long time.
“I wasn't planning to approach you like this,” he said.
“I had another address. I was going to leave something at your door and go.””
“You have my address?””
“I've had it for months.””
A cold sensation traveled down my back.
“You've been watching me?””
“No.”” His voice hardened for the first time.
“I hired a private investigator to locate you. I didn't follow you around Atlanta. I didn't come to your house. I kept my distance because I knew you wouldn't want to see me.””
“Yet here you are.””
“Because someone told me you were hurt.””
Simone lifted one hand.
“Stop. Both of you.””
She looked at Raymond.
“What do you want from my mother?””
He seemed to struggle with the question.
“An answer.””
“To what?””
“Why she disappeared.””
I felt the floor tilt beneath me.
Simone turned slowly.
“Disappeared?””
Raymond looked at me.
“You changed your number. You left your apartment. You stopped answering letters. I went to the address you gave me, and another family was living there.””
“You know why I left.””
“I know what you told me.””
“Then that's enough.””
“No, Denise. It isn't.””
His voice remained quiet, but the words carried the weight of years.
“You told me I was dangerous to your family. You told me never to contact you again. You said you would explain everything when the time was right.””
He paused.
“That time never came.””
Simone's eyes shone with anger.
“Mom, what is he talking about?””
I looked at her.
How could I explain a past she had never known existed? How could I tell her that, before I became the woman who packed her lunches and waited up when she came home late, I had been someone who made decisions out of fear and then spent nineteen years pretending those decisions were acts of love?
“Your grandmother and I had a difficult time before she died,” I said.
Simone's expression changed.
“That has nothing to do with him.””
“I know.””
“Then tell me what does.””
I couldn't.
Raymond slipped the folded paper back into his pocket.
“I won't force you to tell her tonight,” he said.
“But she should know that I didn't abandon you.””
I looked up so quickly that my neck hurt.
“Don't.””
“I didn't leave you, Denise.””
“Stop talking.””
“I waited for you.””
Simone turned toward him.
“Waited for her where?””
Raymond took a breath.
“At the hospital where she gave birth.””
The words seemed to empty the air from the room.
Simone stared at him.
Then she looked at me.
I could hear the faint tapping of her fingernail against the phone case.
“Gave birth to who?”” she asked.
Raymond's face softened.
“To you, Simone.””
“No.””
The word came out as a whisper.
I reached for her arm.
“Baby—”
She stepped away from me.
“Don't call me that right now.””
Her voice broke, and that hurt more than if she had shouted.
Raymond took a half-step forward.
“I know this is a lot to hear. I know you don't know me. But I knew your grandmother, and I knew your mother before you were born.””
“Were you my mother's boyfriend?””
I closed my eyes.
Raymond answered before I could.
“Yes.””
Simone looked from him to me.
“For how long?””
“Nearly three years,” he said.
“And then?””
His mouth tightened.
“Then Denise told me to leave.””
“Why?””
He looked at me.
“That's what I came here to understand.””
I forced myself to stand. My legs felt weak, but I refused to let either of them see it.
“Raymond, you need to go.””
He didn't move.
“Please.””
He studied my face, perhaps searching for the woman he had known, perhaps looking for some sign that I was still capable of explaining the things I had done.
Finally, he nodded.
“All right.””
Simone looked startled.
“You're just leaving?””
Raymond turned toward her.
“I won't make you choose between believing me and believing your mother. You have known her your entire life. I have been absent for most of it.””
He reached into his coat and took out a business card.
He placed it on the empty chair beside Simone.
“My number is on there. If you want to ask me anything, I'll answer what I can.””
He paused.
“Even if your mother never speaks to me again.””
Then he walked toward the entrance.
I wanted to feel relief.
Instead, every step he took made the room seem colder.
At the doors, he stopped and glanced back at us.
“Denise?””
I didn't answer.
He looked at Simone one last time.
“Your grandmother loved you more than anything in this world.””
Simone's lips parted, but no words came.
Raymond left.
The doors swung shut behind him.
For several seconds, I stood frozen beside the chairs, listening to the fading sound of his footsteps.
Then Simone picked up the business card.
She turned it over once.
Twice.
And slipped it into the pocket of her denim jacket.
I stared at her.
“Simone, please don't call him.””
She looked at me with eyes that suddenly seemed older than nineteen.
“Why?””
“Because you don't know him.””
“Neither do you, apparently.””
The words hit me like a slap.
“That's not fair.””
“Neither is finding out that my mother has been hiding an entire person from me.””
I reached for her hand.
She stepped back again.
“I'm going to get some air,” she said.
“Simone, you can't leave me here.””
She stopped.
For one terrible moment, I thought she might turn around and come back.
Instead, she looked over her shoulder.
“You told me my whole life that family means you tell each other the truth.””
Her voice trembled.
“Was that only true when the truth was convenient for you?””
Then she walked toward the corridor.
I sat down heavily.
The chair creaked beneath me.
My phone was still in her hand.
I had forgotten she was holding it until I heard the soft vibration from somewhere down the hall.
A second later, Simone appeared in the doorway.
Her face had gone pale again.
“Mom?””
I stood.
“What happened?””
She held up my phone.
A new message glowed on the screen.
The sender was an unknown number.
The message contained only one sentence.
*Raymond Ellis isn't the only person who knows what happened nineteen years ago.*
Below it was a photograph.
A faded hospital photograph of me holding a newborn baby.
And standing beside my bed, one hand resting on the bassinet, was my mother.
On the back of the photograph, written in my mother's unmistakable handwriting, were six words.
If he comes back, ask about Daniel.
Simone stared at me.
May you like
“Mom,” she whispered.
“Who is Daniel?””
