Christmas Connection

Her mother sat in a rolling chair. Diverting her eyes between Bailey and her cousins, she wrung her hands together. “I never meant to keep this from you. You've always been my little girl. Your father loved you so much.”

Sensing weakness in her legs, Bailey sat down once more. She touched her temple while closing her eyes. “I don't understand why you kept this from me.” She lifted her chin and focused her eyes on them all.

Her mother nodded. “I should have told you. I can't change that, but I'm hoping you can forgive me.”

“Me too.” Kenya's expression looked pained.

Mia's eyebrows gathered in. “I feel terrible.”

Aunt Celia looked back and forth between her daughters. “The truth is... Kenya and Shawn are thinking about adopting.”

“I didn't find out until a few weeks ago that I... couldn't get pregnant,” Kenya said.

Bailey pressed a hand to her chest. “Why didn't you say anything?”

Mia said, “She just told me. I didn't mean to say anything that day. I thought I was helping Kenya, and then you crossed my mind and how Aunt Helen...”

“Took me in,” Bailey said.

“I'm so sorry.” Mia’s tone sounded pleading. “We never meant to keep it from you.”

Aunt Celia gave a faint smile. “We're family.”

Bailey's mother stood and walked over to her. “We've been through so much, but I'm not losing you.” She then looked over at her nieces.

Mia then came to stand by Bailey. “You're my cousin no matter what. You're actually more than that.”

Kenya reached out her hand. “We're all sisters.”

Bailey swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her eyes watered. “I don't know. Can you all...” She blew out her cheeks. “Can you give me some time? Please?”

Mia nodded and dabbed at her damp eyes.

“I don't blame you,” Kenya said. “I can't imagine what you're feeling.”

Bailey's mother gripped her hand. “You are my daughter. We don’t have to share blood to prove that.” Her mother then diverted attention between her sister and nieces. “Can you give us a minute, please?”

Bailey sighed and pulled her hand away from her mother. What more needed to be said? Once they were alone inside the salon, her mother wiped at her own damp cheeks.

“I have two regrets in my life,” her mother said. “One was not telling you the truth, and... for making your father give up his dream.”

Bailey released a deep breath.

Her mother continued. “I loved your father's voice. It reminded me of Donny Hathaway.” Her voice cracked, but she continued. “I just... I was going through infertility alone. He called every chance he got, but I needed him. My heart broke every time I went to the doctor, and I wasn't pregnant. Then I went to a specialist, and we discovered I couldn't have children.”

Bailey hated that she wanted to know more.

“I made him choose. I didn't think it was selfish then, but it was. I should have encouraged him to keep going, but I thought our family was more important. But… he could have had both.”

“Did you ever tell him that?” Bailey asked.

“By the time I did, he said he was glad he chose us,” her mother said. “I didn't believe him. When you love something as much as he loved music, it doesn't go away.”

“He must have loved you more,” Bailey said.

“And you.” Her mother no longer wiped her tears away. They rolled down her cheeks. “His love for music came back with you.”

Bailey stared at the floor.