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Quinn’s eyes met mine. “I kept what he told me a secret. The day after Duke was handled, Micaela and I flew back to San Antonio. Sure enough, Mom and Auntie Marianne were being held underground at a Carter facility. The guards tried to stop us, but Micaela and I shot them with rubber bullets. We got them out of there.”
I turned, staring at my mother’s smooth hickory skin. Her long salt and pepper hair cascaded down her back. Auntie Mae’s hair was a little grayer than Moms. Her hair was styled in a blunt cut.
“Quinn, why didn’t you tell me they were alive as soon as you found them?”
Mom squeezed my hand. “We’d been held captive for fourteen years by our husbands.”
Shit! What would she say if she learned I married my captor?
“We needed to get our minds right. So we told Quinn to give us time alone. We just needed a few weeks to talk to a therapist so we could get acclimated to society again.”
My eyes darted to Quinn. “I thought you went back to San Antonio to talk to Micaela’s parents.”
“I did, but I also wanted to stay close to our mothers.”
I nodded as I peered at my mother’s hand on mine. Then my eyes darted back to Quinn’s. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, little cousin.”
“Mom, did Quinn tell you Dad was taken care of...by me?”
She visibly swallowed. “Yes. I’m happy he isn’t on this earth anymore, but I hate you had to be the one to end his life.”
I smiled. “Oh mother, I don’t feel bad at all. Seeing your face makes me happy that I went as wild as I did when I killed him.”
Franco placed Mom and Auntie Mae’s drinks in front of them.
I tugged Franco’s hand. “Did you know my mother was alive?”
He sighed. “Yes. Quinn pleaded with me not to tell you. He said your mom wasn’t ready yet. But I insisted he let me talk to Marianne.”
“Our husbands...” Mom croaked.
My eyes fell on her again. “They raped us for years.” Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“We weren’t ready to look our children in the eyes yet. Even though Quinn forced us. He held us so tight when he found us. He told us they could never hurt us again.” She pressed a hand to my face. “Don’t be upset with Quinn and Franco. They respected our wishes.”
I grabbed a Kleenex and dabbed her face dry. “Did my husband tell you we’re having a baby?”
She burst into laughter. “Yes. You did good. I can tell he loves you. The way he talked about you when he and I talked on the phone. Girl, he loves the ground you walk on.”
Laughter fell around the kitchen.
Auntie Mae stood. “What are y’all cooking?” she asked with a southern twang.
“Shrimp and grits, gumbo, fried chicken, jerk chicken, jasmine rice, asparagus, and lobster buttered rolls,” Quinn said.
“And we’re having Micaela’s seven up cake for dessert.” I smiled.
“We love a good feast,” Mom said.
“We do too,” I grinned. “It was important that Quinn and I kept you and Auntie Mae’s tradition alive.”
Auntie Mae clapped her hands. “Well, let’s get it crunk up in here. Turn on some Frankie Beverly and Maze.”
I hopped to my feet and ran to the Apple HomePod. “Hey Siri, play ‘Before I Let Go.’”
Mom and Auntie Mae danced around the kitchen. The smile on my face was so wide it hurt. It was one of the best days of my life.
