Malika’s eyes widened. She immediately understood what was happening. Her throat began to close up. In a series of short, quick nods, she acknowledged she would wait to talk until after work.
It was awkward leaving the building. The coworkers on her floor watched every move she made, but no one said a word. Still, Imani wouldn’t let them see her crack. She would do that in the privacy of her own home. Instead, she squared her shoulders, kept her back ramrod straight, and left the building with as much dignity as she could.
*****
Two days later, on an early Sunday morning, a taxi drove Imani, carrying only one suitcase, to her parents’ home. She hadn’t told them she was coming for a surprise visit because it was a surprise to her too. After getting fired and feeling like a reject from The Apprentice, Imani decided to lick her wounds in the comforting arms of her mom and dad. There really was no place like home, and her parents always seemed to center her when life got crazy.
Imani’s parents lived in a cozy two-story house on a quiet cul-de-sac. She had so many good childhood memories. Most of the people who lived on this street had been there forever. Time appeared to stand still in the good old town of Cashmere, Georgia. Imani had known almost everyone on this block since her family had moved there during her fifth-grade year. Just like her parents, those neighbors hadn’t left and probably never would.
There was something comforting about being around familiar surroundings. Imani smiled as she saw Mrs. Addison walking her new German Shephard when the taxi turned onto her street. Imani’s mother had told her that Mrs. Addison was depressed after her golden retriever, Max, went on to doggie heaven; he had been a gift from her late husband. Imani was sure it was a devastating loss. She made a mental note to herself that she would make it a priority to stop by before she returned to Chicago.
Dr. George, her neighbor directly across from her parents’, was walking toward the curb in a pair of house shoes and a robe much too small for his round frame. He bent over to pick up the newspaper at the exact moment Imani’s taxi drove past and almost flashed her his goods. She wrinkled her nose. That wasn’t exactly a sight she wanted to see this early in the morning. And, she thought, when did he lose so much hair? He was balding right on the top.
Imani slowly inhaled when they came to her mom and dad’s house. There were too many cars parked in front of their two-car garage. Each of her parents’, brother’s, and sister’s cars were in the driveway. She never understood people who had garages but never used them. That kind of real estate was priceless in Chicago.
Imani got out of the car with her bag and walked the short distance from the curb to her parents’ door. She turned the knob, knowing they hadn’t locked it. Why did they still do that? Nowadays, it was much too dangerous. Serial killers were on every block. She would have to have a talk with them about it later. For now, she walked inside, dropping her bags onto the floor right where she stood.
Looking around the room, Imani was glad some things would always stay the same. “Mom . . . Dad . . . I’m home!”
In her robe, Felicia Jones rounded the corner from the kitchen drying her hands on a dish towel. A radiant smile spread across her heart-shaped face. She hadn’t started getting dressed for church yet. “Imani Annette Jones, is that you?”
With outstretched arms, she pulled Imani into a bear hug. The excitement of seeing Imani for the first time in a year made her want to sing. “Thank you, Lord, my baby is home!” Her high-pitched voice was elevated more than usual. “You should have told us you were coming. I would have planned dinner.” Felicia continued to hold Imani in a tight embrace and rocked her from side to side as she yelled up the stairs. “Mike, Aaliyah, Maddon . . . get down here. Imani is home!””
Her mama’s smile was contagious. She couldn’t help but return it. “I didn’t want a big fuss.”
“It’s never a fuss when your child comes home for a visit.”
Imani heard her dad’s heavy footsteps coming down the creaky stairs with Aaliyah and Maddon not far behind.
Michael Jones beamed. His broad grin mirrored her own. “Who’s this stranger walking up in here this early in the morning?”
Imani left the comfort of her mother’s arms to walk directly into her father’s. “Hey, Daddy.” Her cheek rested on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.
Maddon was her twin, literally, and he wanted in on the action. “Hey, Brat!” So, did Aaliyah. When Imani turned around to embrace them, she was stunned. Her eyes went wide.
“Y-you didn’t tell me about this.” Imani looked around the room then back into Aaliyah’s eyes as she pointed to her stomach. “Nobody did.”
Aaliyah rubbed her swollen belly. It was protruding through her robe. “I asked them not to. I wanted to be the one to tell you. Now that you’re here . . .” Aaliyah threw up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “SURPRISE! You’re going to be an aunt in about three months.”
Imani was shocked. Her baby sister was having a baby, and as
