Authors: Meisha Camm
Mistress (20 page)
Epilogue
I have to admit I truly wanted to believe Pop. Deep down, there were many doubts. To my surprise, he proved me wrong. It’s been three years and Ma or I haven’t had to threaten or beat down someone’s behind. Finally after twenty-five years of marriage, he’s treating her like a queen by giving her his time, love, and attention. That’s all Ma really wanted. That’s all every woman wants.
Pop decided not to sell the Chicken Shack and opened four more restaurants in Baltimore, Maryland; Brooklyn, New York; Richmond, Virginia; and Charlotte, North Carolina. He wanted to keep his business he built from the ground up in the family. Jason and I promised to continue on the legacy of the restaurant.
Jason decided to stay close to home and attend Hampton University for marketing. He intends to take over the family business. Brenda attends Norfolk State University for teaching. He popped the question, and they plan to wed after they graduate next year.
The fertility experiment worked. Charlotte gave birth to a healthy eight-pound, eleven-ounce boy on March 29, 2007. She asked Maria and I to be the godmothers, a role we were honored to take on.
Maria has made a tremendous effort to reconnect with her father and calls him
Dad
now instead of by his first name, Tony. She visits him frequently in Chesapeake. She is now the regional director for Lobster Island, meaning I can get free succulent crab legs any time.
Dad
now instead of by his first name, Tony. She visits him frequently in Chesapeake. She is now the regional director for Lobster Island, meaning I can get free succulent crab legs any time.
I’m still delivering babies. On one of my usual rounds, I bumped into the infamous cardiologist Leonard Walker, and he managed to ask me out for lunch. Before I gave him an answer, I asked him, “Do you have a wife and kids tucked away?” When he said no, I gladly accepted his offer.
Xavier has written me countless letters. I would reply back
return to sender
on every envelope. My heart won’t allow me to read any of them. Still, from time to time, I can’t help wondering what could have been.
return to sender
on every envelope. My heart won’t allow me to read any of them. Still, from time to time, I can’t help wondering what could have been.
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