Chapter 2

"Julianna," said a weak female voice from a room near the back of the house that had been converted into a bedroom, "who was at the door?"

"Just a neighbor asking how you were feeling," Julianna said, unwilling to tell her mother the truth.

She approached Keesha's bedroom and stepped inside.

"I said you were resting."

Keesha nodded. Julianna crossed to her mother's bed and fluffed her pillows.

"Are you comfortable, Mama? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine," she assured her anxious daughter. "If you want to go out with your friends, go ahead. I want you to enjoy your summer. I plan to read for a little bit, and then I'm going to rest."

"I don't want to leave you. I'll be upstairs in my room. If you need anything, let me know. My door will be open, so I can hear you."

"That's fine. I have everything I need."

If that were true, Julianna thought as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, then why did you contact A.J. Quartermaine and tell him to come here?

*~*

Julianna's four-poster bed, covered with a vibrant patchwork quilt Keesha had made for her when she turned thirteen, greeted her as she entered the spacious bedroom. The light pink curtains, which matched what color one could see of the picture-covered walls, danced as a mild breeze cooled the area. Passing shelves filled with her favorite books and stuffed animals, she reached the padded window seat and lifted the lid to retrieve her favorite pen and her jonquil-covered journal. Her best friend Shelly, knowing that jonquils were her favorite flower, had given her the diary last Christmas. Since her birthday fell so close to Christmas, December 29th to be exact, Shelly had also given her matching stationery as a birthday present. Julianna used the stationery once in a while, but she wrote in her cherished journal every day, sometimes more than once.

With her slender legs crossed, she positioned a cushion pillow behind her back so she could lean against the wall and write. The breeze refreshed her. She opened her journal and with pen in hand, she poured her thoughts onto the waiting pages.

He showed up today, she began. Why did Mama have to contact him? Why now? Why ever?

Julianna ceased writing and took a moment to stare reflectively out the window. It was the first time she'd ever seen his face. At various times, her mother had wanted to show her a picture or two, but Julianna always refused. Keesha never pushed. She knew where her mother kept the photos, but she'd never even wanted so much as to take a peek. And now she had seen him. She knew his face. She'd heard his husky voice. She knew what he looked and sounded like. He would never be just a name to her again. It was as though his face and his voice were burned in her mind. She hated it, but one look at him told her what she'd always known to be true. She had his eyes. Everyone commented on how pretty her thick-lashed hazel eyes were, especially against her darker skin tone. Should she thank him for giving her what a lot of people considered to be her best feature? She laughed bitterly, but she knew she couldn't deny the truth any longer. Today, for the first time, she had seen her father in person. And she couldn't have been ruder.

He is rather handsome, though, she reluctantly acknowledged in her journal. But that doesn't mean he's a good person. He's not. I know he's not. I wish Mama had never contacted him. I know I shouldn't have slammed the door in his face, but I don't want him coming any closer. He's not going to leave us alone, she acknowledged, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. I just know he's going to try again. What am I going to do? How can I keep him away from us?

Julianna had no sooner written the words than the phone rang. She grabbed it on the first ring, afraid it would be him. Thankful her mother hadn't asked for the cordless phone to be brought into her room, Julianna said a hushed "hello."

"May I speak to Keesha Ward, please?"

She recognized the voice. She knew who it was. Without saying another word, she hung up and prayed he wouldn't call again.

*~*

From his hotel room in the center of town, A.J. stared at the phone in dismay. The young girl who had shut the door in his face had just hung up in his ear.

After A.J. had recovered from the door-slamming incident, he'd returned to his hotel room at the Hilton. Even though Keesha had not given him her phone number, he took a chance she might be in the directory. He'd found a K&J Ward listed with no address and decided to call. Recognizing the teen-ager's voice, he knew he had the right number. The fact that she slammed the phone down much the same way she had the door confirmed it for him.

Keesha wanted to see him or so A.J. believed. Sitting on the bed in his hotel room, he vowed he would not give up until he'd at least had a chance to talk to her. He had to know if that young lady was indeed his daughter. And if she was, he would not leave Philadelphia until he knew why he had been kept from her for the past fifteen years!