He could empathize with his wife. He was close to his own mother and couldn’t imagine a life without her. His father had died over a decade ago from a heart attack, but Pops had been a jazz musician, always on the road doing gigs (so he said), an inconstant presence in their household. Troy, the eldest of three siblings, had long been the man of the family. In fact, three years ago, he had convinced his mom to move from Chicago to Atlanta after she’d retired from a long, distinguished career in the public school system. Mom had her own townhouse in Roswell, but she also had a guest room in their home, as she visited often. Troy would have had it no other way.

Although Monica was finally meeting Grace for the first time, he understood the pull of the biological bond between mother and child was like a magnetic force. When Monica had suggested that Grace spend the rest of the weekend at their house, he had readily agreed.

While he knew how important it was to Monica, he had his own admittedly selfish reasons for wanting to keep Grace around a little longer. With his wife preoccupied with her mother, it would give him an opportunity to slip away and handle his own business.

“I know I keep saying it, but I feel like I must be dreaming,” Monica said. “Somebody, please pinch me and wake me up.”

Lexi pinched Monica’s leg, and giggled.

“Hey, not that hard,” Monica said, but she laughed.

She looked good, Troy thought. Better, at least. They were bags under her eyes from lack of sleep the past week, but some of the brightness had come back to her gaze, and she was laughing again, too. Losing Lily had been hard on her and would continue to be a struggle, but with the entrance of her biological mom, she had a hope for a happier future.

“I’m so happy for you,” Troy’s mom said. “To finally meet your mother is surely a blessing.”

“There’s so much I need to talk to her about,” Monica said. “I couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving today. I’m so thankful she’s able to extend her visit through the weekend.”

“Do you intend to ask her why she never contacted you after all these years?” Mom asked.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Troy said. “It’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Where the hell has she been?”

“Like I said, there’s a lot that I need to talk to her about,” Monica said. “I need to process through this in my own way. I’m just trying to take it all in.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Mom said.

In normal traffic, the drive from East Point to Dunwoody might have taken an hour, but traffic was light on that Saturday afternoon. The limo turned into their neighborhood at a quarter to four.