Marc walked away from the light on the porch, then down the steps all the way to the sidewalk in front of the house. He looked up the street, then down the street at all of the houses along both sides of the block, seeing the lights within.

Once he’d known a lot of his uncle Wayne’s neighbors, but these people were strangers. He inhaled slowly, trying to calm the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew, with every cell in his body, that the baby Janie had given away was his.

He turned around and stared at the house he’d just exited. He was nearing another birthday, and tonight he felt every day of those years weighing heavily on his heart. He had a forty-five-year-old son out there somewhere. Janie would be turning sixty-two before this year was over—if she was still alive.

All of a sudden, he had an overwhelming urge to find them both. He needed to apologize to Janie for the heartbreak she’d gone through on her own, and he needed to look into the face of his son before he died. The task was daunting. Janie surely had married during the ensuing years, and the baby would have been given his adopted parents’ last name.

He turned around and went back in the house, looking for the four cousins. They were still sitting on the sofa.

“Hey,” he said, as he walked up to where they were sitting. “Can we talk?”

They smiled. “Sure, Marco. Here, I’ll scoot over,” Tina said.

“No, in private,” he said.

They didn’t even blink, but got up and followed him back through the crowd and out onto the porch before they spoke.

“What’s wrong?” Marlee asked.

“You were talking about Janie Chapman a few minutes ago.”

They nodded.

“Do any of you happen to know the name of the people who adopted her baby?”

“Momma said it was people who lived across the street from her. Why?” Tina asked.

“Because I think that baby was mine, and I never knew about any of this. It must have been around the same time we moved.”

The four women were shocked into silence, and then they all came to their senses and surrounded him in a group hug.

“Oh, Marc, we are so sorry. I didn’t remember that you two dated,” Sophia said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Marc said. “What matters is family. You know how we are. Adamos blood is thicker than water. I need to see my son’s face. I need to tell Janie I’m sorry.”

Now they were all teary and trying to remember, and then Tina gasped.

“I’ll bet Mama would know. Do you care if I ask her?”

“If this night wasn’t all about Uncle Wayne’s passing, I’d be in that room right now, asking everyone present. Go ask her. I’ll wait.”

The quartet shot back into the house, on a mission.

Marc walked to the edge of the porch and glanced back up. The sky was completely dark now, and he thought he could hear thunder in the distance—or maybe it was just the pounding of his heart.