Page 33 of Quintessentially

Grandma knew.

The pictures in my hands tremble, telling me that she knew. She loved Molly as a great-grandmother should.

Why keep her a secret?

The store.

I lie down on the bed and look up at the ceiling as my temples pound. Fuck, Grandma wants Kandace to have the store to take care of Molly. I remember Molly sitting at the counter and what she said.“I’m not going to cook when I’m big. ’Cause I’m gonna sell stuff and make lots of money so Mommy doesn’t have to.”

Mommy is Kandace.

I reach for my phone.

“My number hasn’t changed.”

Shit, I don’t have Kandace’s number. I didn’t delete it, yet I’ve had numerous phones in the last six years. I’m cursing myself as I find Mick’s number. He’s engaged to Kandace’s best friend. Surely, he knows the answer to my burning question. Mick answers on the second ring.

“Richards, what’s up?”

“Yeah,” I stammer, “um, I’m at my grandma’s house. Decided to stay here. And…shit, there are these pictures…”

Mick doesn’t interrupt me.

“This morning before you all arrived at the diner, there was this little girl.” Shit, I’m crying. I’m actually crying. The damn tears are streaming down my face. I haven’t cried since Grandpa’s funeral. Not being at Grandma’s made it easier to stay emotionless. Now, with the phone in one hand and a picture of Grandma and Molly in the other, I’m a blubbering idiot. “She said her name is Molly.”

“Fuck,” Mick grumbles. “What are you asking?”

“Is she mine?”

“You need to talk to Kandace about this.”

My voice raises. “Tell me, is she mine?”

“Good night, Dax. Get some sleep and find Kandace tomorrow. She’ll be at the store.”

“Where…?” I have so many questions. “Where does Kandace live?” I could go to her tonight. She walked out on me, not the other way around.

Mick exhales. “Out at her parents’ farm. So does Justin. I recommend you stay away from there until you and she can talk.”

Justin. The light bulb turns on. I know why he’s been such an ass. “I didn’t know, Mick. I didn’t.”

“I’d say what matters is that now you do. Good night.” He disconnects the call.

Now I do.

Fuck.

Falling to my knees beside the bed, I throw the phone on the pillow and reach for the pictures. Based on what I see, I try to arrange them chronologically. I’m hit with how much of Molly’s life I’ve missed—five years.

First step.

First word.

First everything.

It’s after eleven o’clock when I call my mom’s phone. As soon as she answers, I know I’ve woken her from sleep.

“Dax, is everything okay?”

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