I took a deep breath and said, “Well, you’re a grown woman now, and you have your own family tree to establish, and so do I.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked me.

I wanted to keep it real simple and end our phone call in peace. I had a good idea about what I needed to do in my situation, and I didn’t need my sister’s confusions to throw me off track, so there was no longer a need to seek her opinion.

I answered, “Once you do what you decide to do, and that family legacy starts with that first independent child, it has nothing to do with me or mom or your father anymore. That’s your tree, and it stops or continues with the decisions you make. The same goes for me.”

I couldn’t make it any more simple than that. It was time to move on. And Juanita didn’t respond to it. I guess she still had a whole lot of thinking to do.

I said, “Okay, well, I have a few other things to take care of, so I’m gonna go ahead and go.”

“Terrance?” my sister addressed me. “You really don’t think I should have this baby?”

What in the world? I was tired of even thinking about it. Men and women just had different views on it. Then again, if there were no women who believed in abortion, it would never have become legal. Somebody believed in it.

I told my sister, “I will no longer answer that question. You do what you’re gonna do, and you be prepared to pay the price for it.”

“That’s all you have to say about it?” she asked me.

“Yup, that’s it,” I told her.

When I got off the phone with her, I felt relieved. “God help the man who ends up with her,” I told myself. It was a terrible thing to say about your own flesh and blood, but I really meant it. Juanita was still an unstable woman.

FRIDAY MORNING, I was all packed up and ready to fly to San Francisco for the weekend.

“Well, here we go,” I mumbled as I walked out of my place with my luggage in hand. There was no turning back. I felt as if a new life awaited me, and I hadn’t even seen Michelle’s daughter yet.

I made it to the Atlanta airport on time, checked my bag, made it through security, and as soon as I arrived at the gate to wait for my plane to board, I got a call on my cell phone. It was the last person I expected to hear from.

I looked at the phone and read the Chicago area code and cell number.

Andrea! I thought. What does she want now?

My cell phone rang a second time and I still didn’t answer it.

Do I need the kind of closure where I tell her that it’s over with forever? I asked myself. Or do I just ignore the phone call and go on with my life?