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Authors: Gwyneth Bolton
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pleather sofa. He ran his hand across his head again and looked at her with those eyes, eyes just like her own.
The more she looked at him, the more she could see the other similarities between them. She had always thought she’d gotten her height from Big Mama somehow, because Carla was such a petite thing. But seeing how tall and sturdy her father was, she figured she must have gotten her own tall, shapely build from her father’s side of the family. She wondered what the women in his family looked like. It was hard to tell if her own toasted-cinnamon skin was a mix between his mocha complexion and Carla’s soft, honey skin tone.
“My name is Gerald McEarly, and I’m your father. You probably don’t remember me much ’cause I got sent away on that murder rap pretty soon after you was born. I—I was cleared of those charges. The DNA finally cleared me. That’s why I’m out,” he started.
Her eyes popped open.
Murder?
He must have sensed from the expression on her face that she was coming to some less-than-flattering conclusions. He ran his hand across his head again and sighed before finishing. “I might have been guilty of selling a little…hustling a little…but I didn’t kill anyone. I would have never killed that couple. But that’s not important, really.” The commanding, bass-filled tone of his voice didn’t seem to match the hesitant and rambling manner in which he spoke.
When Penny looked into his huge copper eyes to see if she could get a read on him, to figure out what he wanted, she saw that they had a pleading expression in them.
Pleading for what? What did he expect from her?
He got halfway up and reached into his back pocket.
Instinctively she jumped back, and a hurt expression crossed his face.
“You’re my daughter. The only child I have. I would never hurt you. I just wanted to show you something, show you what I kept.”
The tattered black leather wallet looked like it had seen better days. Penny noticed it bulked not with money, but with pictures. He had several small photos in the wallet, some wallet-size and some cut down to fit in the wallet.
“This is you.” He handed her a picture of her as a baby. “And this is you and your mama. She used to send me pictures of the two of you all the time for the first few years. Then she stopped.” His voice choked. He blinked and ran his hand over his eyes before continuing. “Of course, she was young. I shoulda known she wouldn’t have waited all this time…But that’s not important. I held on to what pictures I had the entire time. So I could keep focused. I never forgot about either of you.”
This is just too much. Or is it too little too late?
Even though her heart went out to him, based on the pain that radiated from him, she had no idea how to respond. Heck, even if Carla stopped writing him, why had he stopped? Why hadn’t he reached out to her sooner?
“I’m sorry, Gerald. But, I mean, well…you never wrote or anything. Or called. So I find it really hard to believe you thought of me all the time you were in prison.”
“I wrote you and your mama all the time. I kept writing for a while, even after she stopped writing to me and sending pictures. Even after she started sending the letters back unopened…I thought maybe she would get over her anger. At least bring you to see me or something…But she never did. Then I heard about her being hooked on that crack and seeing…” A pained expression crossed his face.
“What’re you doing in here?” Carla shot Penny a glare that screamed betrayal. “Brat! Why did you let him in here? Get out, Gerald! I’ve called the cops, and they’ll be here any minute. They gonna lock you up. Again .”
“I just wanted to meet my child, Carla. Damn. You act like I’m gonna hurt her or something. I just wanted to see her. To meet her.” Gerald heaved a sigh and ran his hand across his head before glaring at Carla. He placed his photos back in his wallet and put the
The more she looked at him, the more she could see the other similarities between them. She had always thought she’d gotten her height from Big Mama somehow, because Carla was such a petite thing. But seeing how tall and sturdy her father was, she figured she must have gotten her own tall, shapely build from her father’s side of the family. She wondered what the women in his family looked like. It was hard to tell if her own toasted-cinnamon skin was a mix between his mocha complexion and Carla’s soft, honey skin tone.
“My name is Gerald McEarly, and I’m your father. You probably don’t remember me much ’cause I got sent away on that murder rap pretty soon after you was born. I—I was cleared of those charges. The DNA finally cleared me. That’s why I’m out,” he started.
Her eyes popped open.
Murder?
He must have sensed from the expression on her face that she was coming to some less-than-flattering conclusions. He ran his hand across his head again and sighed before finishing. “I might have been guilty of selling a little…hustling a little…but I didn’t kill anyone. I would have never killed that couple. But that’s not important, really.” The commanding, bass-filled tone of his voice didn’t seem to match the hesitant and rambling manner in which he spoke.
When Penny looked into his huge copper eyes to see if she could get a read on him, to figure out what he wanted, she saw that they had a pleading expression in them.
Pleading for what? What did he expect from her?
He got halfway up and reached into his back pocket.
Instinctively she jumped back, and a hurt expression crossed his face.
“You’re my daughter. The only child I have. I would never hurt you. I just wanted to show you something, show you what I kept.”
The tattered black leather wallet looked like it had seen better days. Penny noticed it bulked not with money, but with pictures. He had several small photos in the wallet, some wallet-size and some cut down to fit in the wallet.
“This is you.” He handed her a picture of her as a baby. “And this is you and your mama. She used to send me pictures of the two of you all the time for the first few years. Then she stopped.” His voice choked. He blinked and ran his hand over his eyes before continuing. “Of course, she was young. I shoulda known she wouldn’t have waited all this time…But that’s not important. I held on to what pictures I had the entire time. So I could keep focused. I never forgot about either of you.”
This is just too much. Or is it too little too late?
Even though her heart went out to him, based on the pain that radiated from him, she had no idea how to respond. Heck, even if Carla stopped writing him, why had he stopped? Why hadn’t he reached out to her sooner?
“I’m sorry, Gerald. But, I mean, well…you never wrote or anything. Or called. So I find it really hard to believe you thought of me all the time you were in prison.”
“I wrote you and your mama all the time. I kept writing for a while, even after she stopped writing to me and sending pictures. Even after she started sending the letters back unopened…I thought maybe she would get over her anger. At least bring you to see me or something…But she never did. Then I heard about her being hooked on that crack and seeing…” A pained expression crossed his face.
“What’re you doing in here?” Carla shot Penny a glare that screamed betrayal. “Brat! Why did you let him in here? Get out, Gerald! I’ve called the cops, and they’ll be here any minute. They gonna lock you up. Again .”
“I just wanted to meet my child, Carla. Damn. You act like I’m gonna hurt her or something. I just wanted to see her. To meet her.” Gerald heaved a sigh and ran his hand across his head before glaring at Carla. He placed his photos back in his wallet and put the
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