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on my hand,”
said Yvonne.
    She held up her hand for Rodney to see. He
laughed. She opened her door and leaned back to him.
    “ Love you, Rodney.” Yvonne
kissed him.
    “ You know, I
could . . .”
    Laughing, Yvonne got out of the car and
closed the door. She waved as he drove off. She checked her watch
before walking across the street. She had twenty minutes before
Dionne came to pick her up. She, Dionne, and Maresol were going to
meet Delphie’s niece, Anna-Marie, or as she liked to be called Ivy.
Smiling, Yvonne stepped into the underground parking garage. She
stopped walking for a moment to get her bearings in the cool, dark
of the garage.
    “ The elevator is on your
left.”
    Jeraine’s voice in her head told her where
to go. She smiled at her memory. She walked past a line of
expensive cars before turning toward the elevator. She saw what
looked like a pile of clothing sitting next to the elevator.
Jeraine had said there was sometimes weird stuff there and to just
ignore it.
    She pressed the elevator button before
remembering that the problem was that the elevator code had already
been changed. Jeraine didn’t have the code, and the IRS didn’t have
the keys. She nodded to herself. That’s why Yvonne was standing
here today. She glanced around the area. No one was around. She
looked down at her jeans. No one was going to care if she sat down
next to this wall while she waited.
    She went around the blob of clothing and sat
down a couple feet away. She was there only a minute when she heard
a small voice.
    “ Hello.”
    After the last few days, Yvonne expected a
fairy or something equally other worldly. She looked over at what
she thought was a blob of clothing. A tiny brown forehead and eyes
peered out at her from under a thick coat. Surprised, Yvonne
blinked.
    “ Hello,” Yvonne
said.
    She wondered why this child was here. Never
having been around rich people, she reasoned that maybe he was
waiting for his limousine or nanny or something very posh.
    “ What are you doing here?”
the child asked.
    “ Waiting,” Yvonne said.
“What are you doing here?”
    “ I’m waiting too,” the
child said.
    Yvonne nodded because she figured as much.
She’d heard that rich people didn’t really care for their children.
Just another thing to own. It was just a shame.
    “ Would you mind if I wait
with you?” the child asked.
    Yvonne heard his southern accent.
    “ I don’t mind,” Yvonne
said. “You look cold.”
    “ I’ve been here a long
time,” the child said.
    Yvonne held her arm out and the child
scooted over to her. The child had a grocery bag with tattered
clothing in it. When he got close, Yvonne could smell his dirty
diaper. She looked down at the child.
    “ I’m sorry,” the child
whispered. “I smell.”
    Yvonne was angry, no furious. Who would
leave a child sitting in its own filth?
    “ How long have you been
here?” Yvonne asked.
    “ Well . . .” the child said. “The taxi dropped
me off . . . and it was dark. I took the red eye to
Denver from Atlanta.”
    The boy nodded as if his words told her
exactly what she’d asked. Yvonne didn’t really know what he meant.
She just knew he’d been there a long, long time.
    “ I tried the elevator but
it doesn’t work. I just waited.”
    “ Why are you here?” Yvonne
asked.
    “ I’m ’sposed to stay with
my daddy now,” the child said.
    “ And who is your daddy?”
Yvonne asked. Furious, she began to think of all the ways she was
going to torture this father.
    “ J’raine,” the child
said.

Chapter Two
Hundred and Eight-one
  .   .   . and   .   .   .
     
    “ He used to be a big
star,” the child said. “But now he’s just a broke-ass negro. He
married some nappy-haired whore who destroyed his life. That’s what
my mommy says.”
    Yvonne reeled back with surprise. The brown
eyes blinked at her.
    “ It’s true.” The brown
eyes nodded. “My mommy’s on TV. She said as long as he wasn’t gonna
pay for me,