“When Janice’s real mother died, Janice was still a small baby. That’s when I found out about her. Your grandfather could have let her go to the orphanage or a foster home, because the woman he’d had the affair with had no family. He made a courageous choice and faced me with the truth. I was hurt, Lord knows I was hurt, but I couldn’t let that beautiful brown baby go to one of those god-awful places. So I took her in as my own and loved her as if I gave birth to her. It took a long time, but eventually I forgave your grandfather.”

“How were you able to keep this from you own children?” Kennedy asked, baffled.

“At the time James Jr. was three, Karen was two, and your mother was one. In their little minds it appeared that I had another baby. Your grandfather had a cousin that worked in vital records. We had him list me on the birth certificate as her mother.”

“Wow,” Kennedy said, amazed that a secret of such magnitude existed in her family.

“Now, I only shared that with you to show that you can get past the hurt, the pain, and be in love with your husband again.”

Kennedy lowered her eyes, “Big Ma, I’m not as strong as you are.”

“That’s a lie,” Big Ma countered. “You are just as strong if not stronger than I was at your age. Look at all of the obstacles that you’ve already overcome.”

“We’ll see, Big Ma,” Kennedy sighed. “Enough about my never-ending issues. I came to take care of you for as long as you need me.”

Giving Kennedy a stern look, Big Ma said, “I got plenty of people here to look after me. You know I love having you here, but two or three days is the longest that you need to stay. After that you need to get back to New York and work on your family.”

Chapter 17

Butterflies danced around in Arnessa’s stomach as she rode the elevator up to the eighth floor of Presbyterian Hospital in Charlotte, North Carolina. She couldn’t understand why she was feeling so nervous about seeing Butta. Maybe her nervousness came from not knowing what to expect. When she got off the elevator, it wasn’t hard to tell which room was Butta’s; two private security guards dressed all in black flanked it.

Arnessa strolled down the hall with a large gift basket of Butta’s favorite goodies in one hand and a large bouquet of get-well balloons in the other. When she got to the door, she opened it slightly and stuck her head in.

“Quit peeping,” Butta said, “come on in.”