Oh fuck.
He has a kid, doesn’t he? He’s taking me to meet his secret love child.
“I promise.” I will a smile onto my face, hoping it looks more convincing than it feels.
It must work, because he takes a deep breath and I watch as the muscles in his body finally relax. “Alright then.” He leans over and when he kisses me this time, it’s more than the peck we had when I first got in the car. This one is deep and slow. It’s him saying something that he couldn’t quite put into words. I’m just still not sure what it is. When he pulls away, relief shines bright in his eyes. “Let’s go.”
I meet him on the sidewalk and he grabs my hand as we walk side by side to the front door. Quinton lifts his hand to knock on the blue-painted door, but it swings open before he can. And at the sight of the person on the other side, my stomach falls to my feet and my vision blurs.
“Hey!” Angela says. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
Unlike the first time we met, and the times since, her hair isn’t down in perfect waves and her slim hips aren’t wrapped in a pencil skirt. Instead, her long blonde hair is up in a bun that I think is supposed to look messy but instead looks high fashion, and her legs are encased in jeans that make them look even longer than they already are. Like a person would dress at home.
“Elliot, right?” she asks before leaning in and giving me a quick hug that I’m too shocked to reciprocate. “Nice to see you again.”
“Um, yeah, you too,” I say to the woman I’m beginning to suspect is the mother of his child. I look at Quinton with wide eyes that hopefully say “What in the entire fuck is going on here?” when she steps to the side and gestures us inside.
Quinton doesn’t say anything, but his fingers tighten around my hand as I try to pull it away. I freaking asked him if anything was going on between them and he said no!
“Q!” A beautiful Black woman who could pass for Angela Bassett’s twin comes running into the room and wraps him in her arms. “You’re early. I don’t even have the appetizers ready yet.”
“You know I’m always early, Mom,” he says. “You and Dad drilled it into me.”
“I know that’s right.” Her warm laughter fills the room so much that it unthaws my feet that have been frozen to the carpet beneath them. She turns her head and when she sees me, her mouth falls open for a second and then Quinton’s smile appears on her wrinkle-free face. “You must be Elliot!” She forgets about Quinton and wraps me up in a hug much like the one she gave him. She pulls away, leaving her hands on my shoulders as she looks me over. It’s hard not to shrink under her intense gaze. I swear she is looking into my soul right now. “I’m so glad he brought you. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to put a face to the woman who has made such a change in my son.”
“Hi.” I struggle to find my voice after the shock of seeing Angela and then meeting his mom wears off. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Howard.”
She glares at Quinton, and I’m so glad I’m not him, before looking back to me with that gorgeous smile of hers. “Please, call me Monica.”
“And you can call me Elle.” I feel my smile widen since I’m pretty sure I’m not meeting his secret love child. I’m still not sure why Angela is here, but as long as she didn’t birth his offspring, I think I can handle anything.
“Alright, Mom.” Quinton puts his arm around my waist and his fingers squeeze into my hips. I flush with the reminder of our night together. “Give her some space.”
“Please.” She brushes him off in a way only a mother can before pulling me out of his grip. “You knew this was going to happen. You’ve never brought anyone to meet me before. It’s about time I had someone on my team when it comes to you and your father.”
At the mention of his dad, his eyes soften and he looks at Angela. “How’s he doing today?”
The smile falls from Angela’s normally sunny face. “Not great.”
Monica clears her throat and changes the subject. “Anyway, where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink? Q told me to grab Diet Coke, so we have some of that if you want.”
I glance at Quinton and I swear, under that thick beard and beautiful skin, he’s blushing.
Oh yeah, Diet Coke is definitely my love language.
“I’d love one, thank you.” I look back at Monica and when I do, her eyes are glossed over and it looks like she might be on the verge of crying.
“Coming right up.” She clasps her hands together and looks at Angela. “Come on, Angela, help me get this food together.”
Angela follows her through the living room and as soon as they are out of our sight, I cut right to the chase. “Your mom is wonderful, but what in the world is going on here? Why is Angela here? Why are you asking her about your dad?”
“Angela runs a program that provides in-home care to dementia patients.” He doesn’t hesitate before answering. “She has gone above and beyond to make my family feel safe with their care for my dad, and she’s become a close friend to my mom, hence her spending Thanksgiving here.”
All of my breath leaves my body in one fell swoop.
“Dementia?” I ask as all of the pieces that I’ve been trying to place since the
