Page 115 of No Place Like Home

“How did Cynthia and Pete get in the house?” I hissed.

I loved them, I did, but what if Quinn got scared? It was so many new people. She wasn’t equipped for that kind of stress.

“She probably broke in,” Juliet said apologetically.

You know…I wasn’t surprised about that one either.

I saw Quinn lift her little curly head and turn to look at me.

“Mama, me hungry,” she said, more asleep than awake.

I smiled at her, and I heard Juliet’s intake of breath.

“Where are you?”

“On our way there.”

Okay, at least that would be some buffer between Cynthia and me.

“Jess,” Juliet began to say.

“Let me guess. Cynthia wants a family meeting?”

I should have seen this coming.

“Yeah.”

Whatever. I needed to face the music.

I turned to Quinn and leaned on the bed. “Remember how we talked about aunts and uncles?”

She looked at me and smiled. “And daddies?”

My heart broke a little bit. That was why I wanted to come back. Why I was going to make Quincy listen to me. And why I needed his forgiveness. Because my daughter needed him, and I couldn’t continue to be selfish enough to try and keep her from him.

“Yes. We are going to meet more family.”

She was in her jammies, so I just put on her little slippers because, just like her dad, someone got hot easily.

I was about to open the door and walk out, but before I did that, I removed the sweater I slept with every night without fail.

“Come on, panda,” I told her as I reached for her hand.

Panda was a nickname for her. She was a very intuitive child. Colors fascinated her. She looked at her skin and mine, and when Prescott came over, his. The only way I could explain her awesomeness was to explain it in a way she could understand. Alas, she said she was like a panda, and I just rolled with it.

For someone who prided myself on being a teacher, I didn’t know if I’d done a good job or confused her more.

We walked out, and it smelled like Thanksgiving dinner at the Carsons’. I hated holidays because they were never good growing up, but they were amazing with the Carsons.

“I was about to call the cops on you guys,” I said as a greeting.

“My baby is back,” Cynthia said.

She slapped the spatula on her husband and pulled me into a hug that had me gasping for air.

Quinn peeked through my legs up at her with wonder. The moment Cynthia saw her, she let go of my hand and brought her hands up as she gasped.

“OH, MY GOD!” she screeched. “My baby had a baby!”

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