that right?” she said as Michelle and Katrina nodded in agreement.
Mark winked toward his brothers, shaking his head. “I told Luke to elope but no, you women had to throw in your two cents. He and Joanne could have been married by now. Done and finished. Then none of you would need to do any shopping at all!”
John laughed. “Do not get these women started, please.”
Marah tapped John against the chest. “You’ve got some nerve.”
“Don’t pay either one of them any attention,” Katrina said, rolling her eyes skyward. “Matthew will tell you that he enjoyed every second of our wedding. Didn’t you, honey?”
Matthew leaned to kiss her cheek. “That’s right, my darling! Walking down the aisle with you was the best thing I ever did,” he said, winking at the men.
Mason chuckled. “It sounds to me like you guys have your hands full.”
Matthew’s head bobbed up and down. “Oh, no, not at all,” he said, his eyes widening mischievously as Katrina punched him playfully in the arm.
Mason grinned broadly as he watched his sister and brother-in-law, the two teasing each other playfully. It had been a long time since he’d seen Katrina so happy. Joy shimmered out of her dark eyes, everything between her and her husband exemplifying the dynamic relationship they shared. An unexpected hint of jealousy flooded Mason’s spirit. As if reading his mind, Katrina moved to her big brother’s side, wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders.
“There will be a lot of beautiful, successful women for you to meet while you’re here in Dallas, Mason,” she said casually.
Mason smiled. “Really?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.
Katrina nodded. “You might even find us a new sister-in-law if you play your cards right, big brother!”
Tossing his head back, Mason laughed heartily. Saying nothing aloud, he leaned to kiss his sister’s cheek. From your mouth to God’s ears, he thought to himself, his smile brightening even more. From your mouth to God’s ears!
Chapter 2
Phaedra Parrish closed and locked the front door of her family home after bidding a member from her mother’s church goodbye. People had been popping in to check on her since the funeral, and with the day being her twenty-eighth birthday, there had been a revolving door of family and friends coming to give her support. It had been a long day and an even longer month, and she was glad for the wealth of silence that quickly enveloped the room. She sighed deeply as she dropped down onto the cushioned sofa that sat opposite her mother’s favorite rocking chair.
As she stared at the empty seat, Phaedra’s tears clouded her dark eyes. It didn’t feel as if a whole month had passed since her mother, Arneta Parrish, had last rocked in that chair, everything seemingly well. Then without warning, a pulmonary embolism had taken her away. Their family doctor had reasoned that she’d probably been experiencing symptoms days earlier, the blood clot traveling from her leg to her lung. But Phaedra had not been there to know, and now her mother was gone from her.
Swiping at the tears that fell down her cheeks, Phaedra closed her eyes and inhaled, filling her lungs with a deep breath. She couldn’t help wishing that she’d come home as originally scheduled instead of extending her photography assignment those additional days. Had she been home, then just maybe her beloved mother would still be there with her.
Even as the thought crossed her mind, Phaedra could hear her mother admonishing her, the woman’s deep alto voice echoing in her thoughts. “You’re wasting time, little girl! Focus on what you need to do and get your narrow behind to doin’ somethin’ worthwhile.” And just as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a warm breeze blow through the room and a gust of wind gently caressing her cheeks.
Phaedra rose to her feet, wrapping her arms tightly around her torso. Across the room she imagined that her mother’s chair was rocking, the movement ever so slight, and she couldn’t help smiling, sensing that Miss Arneta was still there, still watching over her, still intent on keeping her on the straight and narrow. She shook her head from side to side as she laughed. “Yes, ma’am,” she said out loud, chuckling softly.
Moving through the modest home, Phaedra checked that the lower level was secure, ensuring that all the doors and windows were locked. Leaving the one light on in the hallway, she headed up the stairs, hesitating for a brief moment in front of her mother’s bedroom door. She’d known that at some point she would have to sort through her mother’s things, and although it wasn’t a task Phaedra had looked forward to, she knew it had to be done.
Pushing the door open, Phaedra flicked the light switch on the wall as she moved inside the small room. Dropping down against the full-size mattress, she drew her hands across the handmade quilt that decorated the bed. She missed her mother with a vengeance. Her grief was so consuming that she couldn’t imagine how she was going to survive. She let out a deep sigh.
As she moved to stand back up, Phaedra’s heel brushed against a large shoe box protruding from beneath the bed. Reaching down, she drew her hand against the exterior surface, pausing as she thought about its contents. She’d found the container while searching for her mother’s favorite black heels to take to the undertaker. As she’d scanned the documents inside, none of it had made any sense to her. Refusing to acknowledge what she’d discovered, she’d tossed it to the floor, kicking it back beneath the bed. She’d known that she would eventually have to revisit it all and she’d chosen to ignore it until there was nothing else on her plate to deal with.
Slipping her tank top over her head and stepping out of her shorts, she dropped the garments to the floor. Pulling back the covers, she crawled into her mother’s bed, drawing the comforter around her small frame. The box rested against the bed beside her, and her hand shook ever so slightly as she tossed the container’s cover to the floor. Pulling the documents into her lap, Phaedra took a deep breath and then a second.
If anyone had asked her about her mother having secrets, Phaedra would have sworn on her own life that there wasn’t anything about Arneta Parrish that she didn’t know. But Arneta had carried the biggest secret of her life to her grave, never disclosing the bombshell that would soon be her only daughter’s life.
Arneta’s collection of diaries rested on top. Pulling the leather-bound journals into her hands, Phaedra pulled at a black-and-white photo that served as a page holder for the most recent entry. The image was of her mother and a man Phaedra didn’t know, the couple caught in a deep embrace. Her mother was smiling, joy shining in her expression. The handsome man’s smile was not as bright, something in his eyes telling a very different story. But he had a kind face and it was obvious that his presence was making her mother very happy.
Flipping the photo over, Phaedra read the name on the back side. James David Stallion. The photo was dated a year before Phaedra was born. Resting the photo back inside the book, she continued to flip through other papers on James Stallion’s life.
There was a letter dated just a few short months after the photo, Mr. Stallion apologizing for a quick departure, wishing his dear friend Arneta a bright and successful future. The ink had faded in spots, drops of moisture having dampened the paper. It was obvious her mother had cried over that letter, remnants of her tearstains having marred some of the words.
Tucked in the envelope with that single letter was a yellowed newspaper article that had been folded closed. It was the obituary that carried the news of James Stallion’s death.
