“Wow, that was fast.” I took the envelope and just held it in my hands.
“Didn’t Symone tell you that I’m good at what I do? And it really wasn’t that hard.”
“So . . .” I fingered the envelope, fear keeping me from ripping it open.
“Everything is in there,” he said.
I finally picked up the envelope and it trembled in my hand.
“I almost feel guilty about charging you,” Clint said. “This was one of the easiest cases I’ve had, especially with that partial Social.”
I finally got the courage to unfasten the large manila flap. I pulled out his report and started reading. Sarah Hayes was now Sarah Ford, an elementary school principal in Atlanta. I scanned the report. It had her home and work address. Paper-clipped to the report was an 8x10 picture of her standing in front of the school. She looked exactly like the picture my grandmother had given me.
“That pic is from three days ago. Took it myself.”
“So, she’s working with kids?” I asked.
He nodded. “Seems that way.”
“Do you know any personal information? I mean, besides her address.”
He motioned to another piece of paper in the envelope. I pulled it out. It was a photocopy of an article from an Atlanta newspaper. I read the headline: COUNCILMAN ANTHONY FORD TIES THE KNOT.
“So she’s married?” I don’t know why I had immediately assumed she was living under an alias.
“Yep. But that’s all I know.” He pointed to the report. “I didn’t know how far you wanted me to dig. You said just find her, so I don’t have any other details. I can get more, but it’ll cost you.”
“Wow. Just like that, huh? She wasn’t even in hiding or anything.” I think I was still in shock. I wasn’t prepared to deal with this so soon.
Clint shrugged. “Like I said, it was easy. You just gotta know where to look.”
“I don’t believe she’s this close.” I stared at the report. “Thank you,” I finally said.
“No problem.” He paused. “And like I said, I almost feel bad. But I spent a week in Atlanta, so I’m gonna need the rest of my money.” I expected him to smile. He didn’t.
“Of course,” I mumbled, reaching in my purse and pulling out my checkbook.
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t take checks.”
“But I don’t carry that much cash with me.” I had been so excited to meet with him, I hadn’t even thought to run by the bank to get his other fifteen hundred.
Clint tsked his irritation. “Fine. Since you’re Symone’s friend, I guess you’re good for it. Make it out to Clint Young.”
I scribbled on the check, tore it out, then handed it to him.
“Can I go cash this right now?” he asked.
“Yes, definitely.” A part of me felt sad. I’d used our money for something he made it seem like, if only I’d been a little more patient, I could have found myself.
“Cool.” Clint stood. “I usually don’t ask this, because it really ain’t my business. But what do you plan to do with the information?”
I hesitated because I really didn’t have an answer. “Not sure yet.”
“My dad abandoned me when I was little. By the time I found him he was dead. I always wondered what it would’ve been like to reunite with him. That’s the only reason I asked.”
“I’ll let you know.” I held the report to my chest. “But thank you again. You have no idea how this helped.”
He finally smiled. The look on his face told me he really was happy to help.
“Take care,” he said, heading out of the coffee shop.
I stared at my mother’s picture. “We’ll meet soon,” I mumbled. “I promise you that.”
CHAPTER 13
* * *
I paced back and forth across my apartment, trying to figure out what I was going to do, how and when I would go meet my mother. April was stretched out across my sofa, her feet propped up on my designer throw pillows.
I’d left my meeting with Clint, called April, and told her to meet me at my place. She’d actually beat me there and was waiting, kicked back on my sofa, by the time I arrived.
“I just can’t believe she’s been living this close all this time,” I said. I had so many questions. Did my mother just block me out of her mind? Had she ever tried to see me? How could she just go on like I didn’t exist? “I want to go down there,” I continued. “I want to see this woman face-to-face. I’ve got to talk to her.”
“Okay, so go to Atlanta,” April replied as she finished reading the article about my mother and her husband’s wedding.
I know my emotions were in overdrive because my instincts had been to just keep going down I-85 to Atlanta after I left Clint. Thankfully, common sense had set in.
“The problem is I’ve already been off three weeks. I don’t know how long I would need to be there. And what do I do when I see my mother? Just walk up and say, ‘Hey, remember me?’ ” I plopped down next to my cousin and buried my head in my hands.
“You gotta go or you’re gonna drive yourself crazy,” April said. “You could always call in sick.”
“I can’t do that. First of all, I don’t want to leave them out there like that. Secondly, my clients need me. I’ve already been slacking off on them.”
“You’re already on the verge of losing your man behind this. If you don’t do something, you’re going to drive yourself—and me—insane and push him even further away. You know where Aunt Sarah is, you have to go see her. You have to see it all the way through now.”
On the verge of losing my man. That hurt my heart. I shook away that thought. I wasn’t going to lose Trent. We were just in a bad place right now. As soon as I got all this worked out with my mother, he and I would get back on the right track.
“It’s just so foul what Aunt Sarah did,” April continued. “I’m pissed and she was just my aunt, so I know you’re livid.”
“I know, right?”
“She better be lucky Mama isn’t around,” April added. “Because Josephine did not play when it came to her baby brother.”
I didn’t remember much about my aunt Jo, but I knew she loved my daddy something fierce.
“Do you think she knew my mother was alive?”
April shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t see mama letting Uncle Jacob get away with a secret like that.”
I still hadn’t reconciled my father’s deception. One day, I’d have to make peace with that, to try to understand my daddy’s motives. But right now, my concentration was on coming face-to-face with my mother.
“So, what’s the game plan?” April asked. “Maybe if you figure that out, we can work from there.”
I released a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to do. I definitely want to go down there, I need to go down there. But I can’t be away from work that long.”
April bolted upright as a thought came to her. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you tell me you guys have an Atlanta office?”
“Yeah, we do. And?”
“You can’t work out of there?”
I had never even thought about that. And the Atlanta office had just lost its lead publicist and was severely understaffed.
April grinned like she had just figured it all out. “I think you need to come clean with your boss. Tell her what’s going on. Your clients are all over the country anyway. It’s not like you need to be local. Tell her they have to let you work from Atlanta or you’re quitting.”
“I cannot quit my job,” I said.
“You’re not going to have to. They are not about to lose you. You just snagged Len, that rapper. They’re claiming he’ll be the next Kanye. With less drama. He’s huge.”
She was right about that. I was proud of that get. I wasn’t into rap royalty, but I’d met Len’s sister at an event and she was impressed with me and introduced me to Len. Within a week, they were hiring our agency.
“So they’re not going to fire you,” April declared. “Or better yet, tel
l her you’re trying to get Tyler Perry as a client.”
“So you want me to lie?”
April threw up her hands in exasperation. “Okay, so don’t lie. When you get down there, call Tyler and see if he wants to hire you. He’ll say no since he does everything himself and you can tell your boss you tried.” She leaned back on the sofa, crossed her arms over her protruding belly, and smiled. “Problem solved.”
I finally managed a smile. But I loved that about April. She didn’t wallow in problems. She was always about solutions, making things happen. That was a quality I definitely needed to emulate.
“So, I’m going to Atlanta?” I said, the thought actively registering.
“You’re going to Atlanta. Now, you just need to figure out what you’re going to do once you get there.”
That was the million-dollar question. And I planned to figure it out sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER 14
* * *
I was going to Atlanta.
Charlene had jumped at the idea of me temporarily relocating there until they found another lead publicist. So one day after my request, I was on my way.
But first, I had some crucial business to take care of.
Penelope wiggled in my arms and tried to lick my face. I loved my dog, but not that much, so I set her down on Trent’s floor and hoped that she didn’t pee on his white shag rug.
I’d brought Penelope to him today to hopefully ease the tension of the news I was about to deliver.
“So . . . I know you’re not really feeling my search for my mother.”
“It’s not that,” Trent said, cutting me off. He leaned down to pet Penelope, who was yipping at his leg. “You know I want you to be happy. But I don’t want you to forget about the life we were building, either.”
“We’re still building a life,” I said.
“Of course I know that. I mean, I was mad the other day.” He stood, walked over, then pulled me close to him. “But you’re about to be my wife. I’m not going to lose you over this.”
His words sent a ripple of relief through my body. Ever since my father died, we’d been fighting like never before. Despite our problems, I didn’t want to lose Trent. I’d sent him several love texts this morning telling him as much. I just hoped what I was about to say didn’t take us back down that rocky road.
“Good.” I leaned in and kissed him. “Because I need you to be understanding a little while longer because I’m temporarily relocating to Atlanta.”
He dropped his arms from around my waist and took a step back. “Excuse me?”
I bit my bottom lip, then said a silent prayer for him not to flip out. “I found my mother.”
“What?” he exclaimed. “When? Where?”
“Clint actually tracked her down in Atlanta.”
He paused, his brow scrunched up. “Who is Clint?”
“The private investigator.”
A silence hung over us before Trent said, “So you hired him?”
I didn’t respond.
“Did you take the money out of our savings?”
“I told you that I was going to hire him. You know I was going to use the money.”
Trent exploded. “Are you freaking kidding me?” His outburst sent Penelope scurrying under the sofa. “I knew you talked about wanting to use the money. So you just went and withdrew the money without talking to me?”
“I did talk to you.” I tried to keep my voice steady so he didn’t get even more worked up.
“But we didn’t come to any concrete decisions.”
I did, I wanted to remind him, but I figured now wasn’t the time.
Anger pierced his steps as he paced his living room. “So you took our money and now you’re telling me you’re moving to Atlanta? For how long?”
“Just for a couple of months. I’m helping them out at the Atlanta office until they get someone in to lead it. And that will give me a chance to reestablish my relationship with my mother.”
“If she wanted a relationship with you, don’t you think she would’ve gotten in touch with you?” he snapped.
His piercing words pierced my heart. But he didn’t seem to notice as he created a worn path in the shag carpet, ranting unlike anything I had ever seen. I sat on the love seat, tuned him out, and started planning when I would leave.
It wasn’t until he said, “I truly don’t understand this absurd obsession with your mother,” that I turned my focus back to him.
“My obsession? That’s what you think this is?”
I guess the fury in my eyes told him that he’d crossed a line because he snapped, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you meant it exactly like you said it.”
Penelope came from under the sofa, staring as we went back and forth.
“All I’m saying is you took the money that we were saving to start our life. And you think that’s okay?”
“It was my money, too.”
“Yes, it was our money. We saved for a specific reason and you take it and blow it on a private investigator.”
“I didn’t blow it on anyone. I hired someone with it. I did what I had to do.” My voice was cracking. I needed support, not resistance.
“And screw everyone else in the process,” he said.
We stared at one another, neither of us saying a word. Finally, I just said, “I’m sorry you don’t understand.”
Truthfully, it didn’t surprise me that he didn’t get it. Mrs. Grant was there doting on him his whole life. I don’t know why my mother left, but it had to be a compelling reason. And I was excited about the prospect of rekindling our relationship. Whatever issues she had twenty-five years ago had to be gone. And if they weren’t, we would just work through them.
Of course, I worried about her still wanting nothing to do with me. But I was channeling my inner Oprah and focusing on an optimistic outcome.
And the man I loved was the biggest obstacle to reuniting with my mother.
A knock on the door interrupted our conversation. Trent huffed as he stomped over to open the door. Kimala and Mrs. Grant bounced in. Two of Kimala’s kids raced past me. The oldest, a sixteen-year-old, went to Trent’s bedroom, barely uttering hello. Demarcus went straight for Penelope, who darted underneath the sofa. He immediately began pulling her leg trying to get her out. I didn’t blame Penelope. I wish that I could disappear, too.
“Hello, my beautiful son and daughter-in-law,” Mrs. Grant said, walking in and dropping two shopping bags on the floor. It looked like an assortment of flowers in the bags. “I didn’t know you’d be here, Brooke. But that works out wonderfully. I brought some floral displays to look at for the wedding.”
His mother didn’t seem to notice the tension in the room as she dug in the bag and pulled out a stack of magazines.
“I was also thinking we could look through these and find you a dress. I think we should do a March wedding. That gives us enough time to plan. You will make an amazing spring bride.”
“Uh, Mama,” Kimala said, looking back and forth between me and her brother. I hadn’t moved from my spot on the love seat and Trent was standing by the front door, his cheeks puffed out, his arms folded across his chest. “There might not be a wedding.”
Her mother finally noticed me. “Are you crying, Brooke?”
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror that hung over his sofa. I didn’t even realize my eyes were red and puffy.
“Trent, is it going to be a wedding?” Kimala asked, studying her brother even harder.
“I don’t know,” he said, never taking his eyes off me.
Mrs. Grant spun toward him. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
I couldn’t help but stare, too. “Yeah, what do you mean, you don’t know?”
The anger in his voice was evident. “Obviously, her priorities aren’t with me.”
“And I never realized how selfish you were,” I retorted.
“Ooooh,” Kimala said as she plopped down on the sof
a.
“Is Uncle Trent and Brooke fighting?” Demarcus stopped trying to maul my dog and looked up at us.
Of course, I expected someone to tell him to stay out of grown folks’ business, but Kimala simply said, “Yeah, baby, sit down so we can watch.”
Both Trent and his mother shot her an evil look, but she didn’t seem fazed.
Mrs. Grant took my hand, pulled me up, then walked over and took Trent’s hand. “Look, I know planning a wedding can be stressful.”
“She’s leaving,” he said, cutting his mother off.
“What?”
“I’m not leaving. I’m just temporarily moving.”
Trent and I never took our eyes off one another as his mother held our hands.
“I don’t want a long-distance relationship,” he said matter-of-factly.
I turned to his mother, trying to get her to understand. “The lead publicist in our Atlanta office took a job in Miami, so they needed someone to run the office for a while. So, I’m just going to work in my company’s Atlanta office for a while. And Atlanta is not long distance. It’s six hours away.”
“Why would you do something like that?” his mother asked, releasing my hand. “You’re planning a wedding, about to start a family, and you’re just going to up and leave?”
I exhaled. “I have something I need to go take care of.”
“She wants to go find the mother who abandoned her.”
I glared at Trent. I couldn’t believe he’d told my business like that, and so callously.
“Abandoned? I thought your mama was dead?” Kimala said, jumping up.
Trent must have known he’d said too much because he closed his mouth and turned away.
“Someone want to tell us what’s going on?” Kimala said when neither of us responded.
“Trent, what’s going on?” his mother repeated.
“Yeah, Trent,” I said, gathering my things. “Why don’t you tell your family my whole sordid story.” I motioned for Penelope to come, which she immediately did, grateful for the escape from Demarcus. I nuzzled her to me. “Mommy will be back. Daddy is gonna take good care of you.” Penelope barked. I petted her head, set her down, and turned to Trent. “I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye, Mrs. Grant, Kimala.”
Seeking Sarah Page 8
