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  Again, Donna rolled her eyes and gave her mother the silent treatment. The stalemate went on for several minutes. Finally, too exasperated to continue practically begging her daughter to talk to her, Carolyn gave up. Donna rudely put her earphones in and turned the volume up so loud, Carolyn could hear every curse word in the lyrics of the rap music her daughter listened to. Donna also took to texting incessantly on her new cell phone, one of the luxuries she had missed while locked up in that place.

  Defeated, Carolyn resorted to watching the passing scenery outside the Bentley’s darkly tinted windows. She secretly wished she were someplace else. She could think of a million things she would rather be doing than taking her daughter’s abuse. Carolyn’s mind drifted to things she found pleasurable.

  When the car went up the winding road leading to the house, Donna yanked her earphones out of her ears and bolted upright in her seat.

  “I’m not going to the summer house. I’m going to Chicago, to the Gold Coast condo,” she announced brusquely.

  Carolyn’s eyebrows shot up, and her pulse sped up. Donna had been practically living alone at their Gold Coast condo when she disappeared and ultimately got herself in trouble. Carolyn didn’t think it was a good idea for her to go back to that environment so soon. Carolyn wanted Rebecca to keep an eye on Donna.

  “Donna, please,” Carolyn said as calmly as she could, given the circumstances. “Your father is asking for everyone to be here. Everyone. He missed you so much. He is looking forward to seeing you. And I want to catch up. You can go to the condo another day.” As Carolyn tried to reason with Donna, she touched her daughter’s leg gently.

  Donna tilted her head and looked at her mother through squinted eyes. The look sent a chill down Carolyn’s back. “Please, Mother. Don’t start this bullshit. You don’t want to catch up or spend quality time with me. You want to make things good since your prodigal children are coming home. Junior—the only person who visited me, by the way—already told me Desi was coming,” Donna hissed, pushing Carolyn’s hand off her knee roughly.

  Carolyn snatched her hand back, as if a venomous snake had bitten her. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to quell the throbbing that had suddenly started between her eyes. It was starting again already—the hate/ hate relationship her kids had with one another. Carolyn often blamed herself for not handling Desiree’s situation like it should’ve been handled back then. Donna had been too young at the time to understand why her sister was sent away, but Carolyn had seen a big change in Donna afterward. Carolyn let out a long breath, which seemed to zap all her energy. Everything seemed to be at an impasse.

  Undeterred by her mother’s silence, Donna went on. “I don’t want to be here. I’m over Idlewild and all your fake friends. I’m sure you have some kind of party planned for your favorite child, but I’m not going to it. I refuse to be like you, like all the people here . . . fucking fake, hiding behind money and designer clothes, all living a big lie.” She paused and gave her mother a hard stare. “Now, either you let me go to the city or you get even more embarrassed when I go around Idlewild telling everyone what a wonderful time I had in drug rehab,” she spat viciously.

  Carolyn coughed, or more like gagged. She felt like Donna had gut punched her. She placed her hand on her chest, shocked by her daughter’s outburst. She looked over at her only child, and she swore she could see red flames flickering in Donna’s eyes. Pure hatred clouded the girl’s face. Carolyn’s jaw rocked feverishly, and her pulse pounded. Suddenly everything was swirling around her. She cleared her throat, like she’d done so many times when preparing to speak to Ernest, thinking Donna had grown to be just like her father. Carolyn knew she couldn’t let Donna ruin what she had spent years building—the lie that was their life.

  “Donna, I have tried and tried. What more do you want me to do? It is not my fault that your father is sick. He asked for you all to be here, and he chose to ask for Desiree specifically to be here, ” Carolyn began, steeling herself for more cruelty from Donna.

  Donna’s face turned bloodred, and her eyebrows folded into a scowl. “I don’t care!” she screamed. “Everyone is always making special arrangements for her whenever she decides we are important enough to come around. She abandoned us! She taught her child to hate us! She hates us!”

  Donna yanked on the door handle when the house came into view. The driver slammed on the brakes in response. The car screeched to a halt, and Donna scrambled out the door. Carolyn’s body jerked forward, then back, and her head slammed into the headrest. Her heart pounded even harder, and her head throbbed.

  “Oh my God! Donna!” Carolyn screamed, wincing and holding the back of her head. She opened her car door and hung her head out. “Donna! Wait!” she screamed. Visibly shaken, Carolyn decided against running after her daughter. There was nothing Carolyn could do now. It was too late. And there was but so much she could take. She knew that Donna had been serious when she said she would tell everyone she was in rehab. Someplace deep inside Carolyn, what all her friends thought about her was more important than forcing her daughter to be there.

  “Everything all right, Mrs. J?” the driver asked.

  Carolyn was terribly embarrassed and equally as flustered. She didn’t respond.

  “You want me to go after her?” the driver asked, peering at Carolyn through the rearview mirror.

  “I’m fine. She’s impossible,” Carolyn replied, trying to seem lighthearted about the incident but not able to prevent her voice from shaking. “Take me up to the house and come back for her. Take her wherever she wants to go. If she wants to go to the city, let her go to the city,” she croaked, her voice shedding the false cheeriness and her words laced with pain and anger. This scenario was better than Donna blowing the whistle on Carolyn’s lies and causing a scene when Desiree arrived.

  Once the driver reached the front of the house, Carolyn climbed out of the car. She steeled herself for the questions she knew she’d face when she stepped inside her home. Carolyn immediately began constructing more lies in her head. She had become so good at it that it took her no time to think of what she’d tell everyone, including Ernest, about Donna’s whereabouts. Carolyn exhaled a windstorm before she entered the house. It was the first time she had acknowledged to herself that she was losing the battle on all fronts, but she had made up her mind that it wouldn’t be for long.

  Chapter 4

  Memories

  Desiree’s stomach clenched, and she immediately felt like her modest Honda Accord was out of place on the long winding driveway of her parents’ Idlewild summer home. The four luxury cars parked along the stone driveway were so much bigger and more expensive than hers, and this made Desiree feel like a pizza delivery person pulling up for a five-minute drop-off.

  “Whoa,” Tyree exclaimed as they approached the Johnson summer home. “How come this is my first time coming here?” he asked, his eyes stretched wide and his mouth agape. “You’ve been holding out big-time, Mom. Like, big big-time.”

  Desiree swallowed hard. “You know I don’t do these family gatherings,” she groaned. “If I don’t come, you don’t come. And none of this is mine, so I haven’t been holding out on anything.”

  “I do know you don’t do family gatherings, but I’m still trying to figure out why,” Tyree responded as he continued to scan his surroundings. “With a dope house like this, I’d gather with my family every day! This right here is baller, for real,” he went on, ogling the house and the grounds.

  “Boy, just make sure you’re on your best behavior. It’s one week . . . Let’s make it through. Don’t do a lot of talking, so I don’t have to do a lot of explaining. Got it?” Desiree said, twisting her neck to tamp down her nerves.

  “There’s a whole lot of stuff you ain’t telling me,” Tyree grumbled under his breath.

  Desiree didn’t respond. She knew he had used the word ain’t to get under her skin, and her skin was already crawling bad enough as it was.

  They got out of the car almost at the same time. Before Desiree could fully stretch, Rebecca came barreling toward her, with a huge smile on her face.

  Desiree’s heart lurched in her chest, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. The one person she had missed the most all these years was Rebecca.

  “Oh my Lord,” Rebecca sang, her arms stretched out in front of her. “I cannot believe my eyes,” she said, her voice cracking. Rebecca pulled Desiree into her and squeezed her so tight, Desiree had no choice but to return the embrace.

  Rebecca had been a part of the Johnson family since before Desiree was born. She had served as everything to the family. She had been the nanny, but she had also kept house, kept Carolyn straight, and assisted Ernest in some things as well. Once the kids had become teenagers, Rebecca had taken on the task of making sure Carolyn’s household chores never piled up, especially the cooking. As wealthy as Ernest was, he had never liked to eat out. He preferred Rebecca’s home cooking over a fancy restaurant any day. Rebecca still kept things in the house flowing smoothly. She was just a part of their family, period. And she loved Desiree like Desiree was her own child, and in turn Desiree had confided in Rebecca more than she had her own mother.

  “Rebecca,” Desiree whispered, finally letting her tears fall. “I’ve missed you so much,” she gasped, almost choking on her words. “So much.”

  Rebecca’s body quaked with sobs. Neither of them had been prepared for the rush of emotions that took over them like a tidal wave. As they stood there, seemingly stuck in one another’s embrace, memories flooded them both.

  Back then, Desiree had almost jumped out of her skin when the soft knocks reverberated through her bedroom door.

  “It’s me, Desi,” Rebecca had whispered.

  Desiree had yanked open the door
, her heart slamming against her chest wall.

  “Did my mother see you leave the house?” Desiree had asked nervously as her stomach did flip-flops.

  “No, Desi, I don’t think that she did. And now she’s gone, I believe, to a hair appointment or something like that. But you know she’ll be back soon, and the first place she is coming is right to this room,” Rebecca answered, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. She had been doing nothing but worrying since Desiree had taken to hiding out in her room. But now this . . .

  “Okay. Did you get it?” Desiree asked, then bit her bottom lip. She was squirming like she had to urinate really badly.

  “Yes, I did,” Rebecca answered, digging into her pocketbook. “And I didn’t like it one bit. Imagine me buying this stuff at my age . . . the stares I got in that store. This is just too much, Desi. Too much,” she complained as she pulled a small plastic bag from her pocketbook and extended it toward Desiree. Desiree’s hands trembled as she snatched the bag and looked at Rebecca through glassy eyes.

  “Oh my God, Rebecca. I can never repay you for this,” Desiree said, her voice cracking.

  Rebecca twisted her lips and scrunched her eyebrows. It was an expression that was all too familiar to Desiree. She’d seen it over the years: anytime she’d done something Rebecca didn’t agree with, that had been the facial expression she got. Rebecca wasn’t much on using words to admonish, but her body language, most of the time, said it all.

  “Please. Not that face. Not now. Not you,” Desiree grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m going through enough. And I don’t need you, of all people, to judge me, Rebecca. Please . . . not right now, of all the times in my life,” Desiree said, tearing up.

  Rebecca softened her expression and touched Desiree’s hand gently. She hated to see Desiree cry. Rebecca still thought of Desiree as her little girl. She had basically raised Desiree and all the Johnson children.

  “I’m not one to judge you, you know that. God is the only one who can judge you. But if this is so, you can’t hide it. I won’t help you hide it,” Rebecca said softly. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what, but I want you to think about this long and hard. You are not married. You’re a little girl, and you have so much living to do, Desi.”

  “It was a mistake. I know everyone will hate me, but I’m not perfect. It was a big mistake,” Desiree sobbed, lowering her eyes. She hated it when Rebecca was disappointed in her. When she was a child, the idea of letting Rebecca down was the one thing that could be used to punish Desiree.

  “Oh, Desi, I don’t mean to be hard, but you know right from wrong. You are better than this. I taught you better than this,” Rebecca said sternly, but with the hint of softness only she knew how to master. Desiree looked down at the floor. Rebecca grabbed her into a tight embrace, her ample bosom providing a cushion. She squeezed Desiree close. “I will always love you, no matter how many mistakes you make,” Rebecca whispered in her ear.

  Desiree let out more loud sobs. “I hope it comes back negative,” she whimpered into the material of Rebecca’s shirt.

  “For the good of everyone involved, I hope it does too,” Rebecca said with feeling.

  Desiree was scared to face Rebecca when the scandal broke, but Rebecca was the only person she could trust with her true feelings. Rebecca told Desiree the truth about how she felt about her pregnancy, but right after that, Rebecca hugged her tight and told her it would be all right.

  “Ahem.” The sound of Tyree clearing his throat jolted them out of their reveries.

  “Oh my goodness,” Rebecca exclaimed, finally letting Desiree out of her grip. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I didn’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

  Desiree giggled awkwardly, trying to squelch her sobs. “I know, right? I missed you so much . . . and the food . . . oh goodness, the food,” Desiree joked, trying to break the heartbreak and tension of the moment.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll feed you well,” Rebecca assured her, wiping her own tears away too.

  “Ahem.” Tyree cleared his throat again, his foot tapping the ground.

  Desiree and Rebecca both turned their attention to him this time. Rebecca’s eyes welled up again.

  “This baby has grown up so nicely,” she sang, rushing toward him. She pulled him to her. “Goodness, the last time I saw you, you were knee high to a fly,” she joked.

  Tyree smiled awkwardly, crushed by her tight hug. He didn’t remember Rebecca; that was how small he had been the last time Desiree took him home.

  “He’s a tall beanpole now,” Desiree said, smiling proudly at her two favorite people in the world. She wished they had been together all the time. Rebecca would’ve been great at helping her raise and take care of Tyree. Desiree was sure of it. Rebecca would have been the best grandnanny in the world. The thought tickled Desiree somewhere close to her heart.

  Rebecca let Tyree go and grabbed Desiree’s hand. “You need to come inside, get settled, and go see him,” she said, lowering her voice.

  “How’s he doing?” Desiree asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Well, I won’t say. I’ll let you go see him,” Rebecca said, hanging her head slightly. Desiree’s stomach lurched.

  “That bad, huh?” she replied.

  * * *

  Desiree paused at her father’s bedroom door. She looked down the long hallway and realized she was really alone. She hadn’t been alone with her father in years. Her neck tensed, and she clenched her teeth so hard, pain shot up to her temples. Desiree blew out a windstorm of breath and opened the door. Her eyes went wide and she sucked in her breath at the sight of her father lying in a hospital bed, connected to what seemed like a million wires. The blips and beeps of the fifteen machines sounded uncomfortably loud to Desiree. She couldn’t stop the tears from pouring out of her eyes and down her face.

  “Oh, Daddy,” she whimpered, slowly moving to his bedside. “I’m so sorry.”

  Finally, she was close enough to touch him. She reached down and picked up his limp, wrinkled hand. Desiree hiccupped a sob and her shoulders fell forward as she took in the sight of the man who had always been her first love.

  “Daddy,” she sobbed out, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

  His gaunt body seemed swallowed up by the bed, and he looked as if he’d aged two hundred years since she’d last seen him. His head was covered with fine gray peach fuzz, and his cheekbones jutted against his paper-thin skin unnaturally. He was nothing like the tall, barrel-chested, regal man who was Ernest Johnson, her father, her hero, and sometimes her worst nightmare.

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I never wanted to disappoint you,” Desiree cried, pulling her father’s hand up to her face. Then she knelt at his bedside, put her head down at his side, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t stop the memories, both good and bad, from revisiting her again.

  Fifteen-year-old Desiree had lain curled up in the fetal position inside her bedroom at the Idlewild summer home for over a day. She’d been there since the devastating meeting took place between her parents and Tyson Blackwell’s parents the day before. Unable to stop reliving the worst moment of her life over and over again, Desiree had drawn all the curtains, locked her door, and buried herself under a pile of quilts, even though it was ninety degrees outside. She kept replaying his words, their words, everyone’s words as they spoke about her like she was some street whore who had sought to trap Tyson. Tyson had warned her, but she had never thought they’d treat her like that, especially her own father.

  Since she had revealed that she was pregnant, her mother had tried to be supportive, but her father hadn’t said two words to her. Desiree had been his little girl, innocent in all rights, before this. She couldn’t even imagine what her father must think of her now. The thought made Desiree cry even harder as she lay on her bed. She was literally sick to her stomach over this.

  Carolyn and Desiree had sat together that first night, as Desiree had cried her eyes out over how stupid she’d been to think it was all going to work out with Tyson. She had believed him when he said he wanted to be with her no matter what. Desiree hadn’t ever thought about pregnancy, their family names, and Tyson’s future or her own while she was wrapped up in their teenage love. She had been young, dumb, and in love for the first time. Desiree had become the talk of Idlewild, and she knew it.