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now?” The sick feeling in my stomach had me wanting to not eat that last bite of food, but there was no way I was going to waste it. Moms stopped fussing in time for us to hear the next bit of news.

      “The investigation began when a letter was received from a former member of Love and Faith Christian Center reporting that he had been molested by both individuals starting twenty years ago. Love and Faith’s church council refused to release the identity of the individual who wrote the letters alleging the sexual abuse. One has to wonder what made the individual finally come forward. We will continue to try to get further information as this story unfolds . . .”

      Monica let out a little gasp and laid her head on the table.

      I instantly arose and went to her, rubbing her back. “You okay?”

      She lifted her head and nodded, apparently trying to keep herself together for my mother’s sake. “I’m okay. Just ate something at my parents’ that didn’t agree with me. You know my stomach is only used to organic, healthy stuff.” I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. I walked over and turned off the television.

      “Hey, I was watching that,” Moms said.

      “Don’t you want to see what I brought you back from Africa?” I walked over to my bag and pulled out a capelana skirt I had brought her. “This is the first of many gifts. I left the rest at home.” I stood her up to tie it around her waist but couldn’t bear how thin she had gotten. The skirt wrapped around her twice. I sat her back down in the chair. “I have a better idea.”

      I removed her head scarf, maintaining my composure at the pitiful sight of her bald head. I smoothed my hands over it, fingering the last bit of peach fuzz that hadn’t fallen out yet. I tied the capelana skirt around her head and made an elaborate wrap. The vibrant colors in the skirt brightened her face. “Beautiful,” I said.

      She walked over to the microwave and studied her dim reflection. Her face lit up, and she walked down the hall into the bathroom. I followed her. She fingered the head wrap, turning from side to side and finally smiled at herself in the mirror. “Don’t I look like an African queen?”

      “Absolutely, Moms.” I squeezed her shoulders.

      She turned around to hug me. “Thanks, Tree. I’m so sorry about all this.”

      “Shhh. Everything’s gonna be fine.” I held her for a few minutes, hoping I could impart faith and strength to her.

      Later, after Monica went back to her parents’ and Moms lay down for a nap, I pulled her bills out of my purse and sat down at the kitchen table. The more bills I opened, the heavier I got. By the time I had tabulated all her expenses, I was even more upset at Moms and Tiffany for not telling me what was going on so I could have come home sooner. I calculated the cost of getting everything current, and then her monthly expenses for the next few months. It would take more than half of the money I had saved.

      I decided to count it a blessing that I still had money and that I could take care of her. I realized that now, instead of having six months to find a job, I only had two or three. Still plenty of time to find what I wanted. When I thought about the fact that I would now have to pay Moms’s bills and mine indefinitely, I shortened the time to a month. Which meant I needed to start looking right away.

      I would still leave my “invisible” chunk of money in my savings account. I kept about five thousand dollars stashed away in a high interest account and vowed never to touch it except for life and death situations. I forced away the thought that Moms’s situation was that critical.

      One thing was for certain. Tiffany was going to have to get a job and keep it. No way her grown behind was gonna be living in my house, eating my food, using my electricity and water, and not paying nothing. Doing whatever it was she did with her time while I worked all day. She was going to have to pull her own weight. I knew Tiffany thought she could float easy over the next few months because I would never put her butt out on the street with Moms sick. She was about to find out how different I was.

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