Chapter Three

      Staten Island, New York

      Thandie carefully placed the bouquet of flowers on the counter and waited for someone to acknowledge her. As usual, she felt nervous. These visits were always filled with mixed emotions. She looked forward to them with the same intensity that she dreaded them.

      As if alerted to her growing sense of unease, a nurse materialized from a corridor. She was a heavy woman with wide hips, rosy cheeks and smooth pale skin. Her name was Nurse Joanne.

      As soon as she saw Thandie, her face split into a brilliant smile. “Ah, Thandie! I’m so glad you came. She’ll be so excited to see you.”

      Thandie’s face lit up with elation. “Has she been asking for me?”

      Nurse Joanne paused and then made a slight shake of her head. “No, dear, but I know deep down she’ll be thrilled you’re here.”

      Thandie’s initial joy vanished, quickly replaced with embarrassment. She felt foolish for having asked. It was silly to think her presence would be desired, least of all remembered. It had been this way for years. It was silly to expect anything anymore.

      “There there,” Nurse Joanne chided. “There’s no need in upsetting yourself. You’ll ruin your visit before it even begins.”

      Thandie gave a half-hearted smile.

      “That’s a good girl,” Nurse Joanne said reassuringly. “Now let’s get you upstairs. Did you sign in yet?”

      Thandie pulled the visitor log book in front of her and began filling in her information. Next to the date, she wrote the patient’s name: Josephine Shaw.

      After waving to the nurse, she made her way to the elevators, where she rode the lift to the second floor. The corridors on the upper level were abuzz with whispered conversations and occasional laughter. The environment was warm and inviting. This reassured Thandie she’d made the right decision years ago.

      Following the hall, Thandie arrived at room 216. The door was open, and inside the sunlit room sat a lone figure. Turning at the sound of someone entering the room, the woman lifted her head and gazed at Thandie.

      The sight of her face made Thandie catch her breath. Not yet fifty-five, Josephine could easily be mistaken for someone ten years younger. She was a small African American woman, with a heart shaped face and slender nose. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant bun at the nap of her neck and her soft brown eyes were bright with curiosity. Her lip quivered slightly when she smiled, making her smile all the more endearing. She was beautiful. Thandie had always believed she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

      Thandie approached her slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. She placed the flowers on a table and knelt before the woman. Taking her hand in her own, she kissed it before pressing it against her cheek. “Hello,” she cooed softly. “How do you feel today?”

      Josephine Shaw’s smile faltered just a little, but she managed to keep the grin in place. “I feel well,” she said pleasantly. “Thank you for asking.”

      Thandie could tell by the tone in her voice she was confused. “Do you know who I am?”

      Josephine peered at her closely. “You’re very pretty,” she whispered. Her eyes slid to the side, as if she were sifting through a multitude of emotions and memories. “What...what is your name?”

      It was a blow Thandie should be familiar with, but it hurt just as much now as it had the first time. Thandie blinked back tears and said evenly, “My name is Thandie Shaw. I’m your daughter. Do you remember me?”

      Her mother looked uncomfortable, and gripped her hand tightly. “I’m sorry,” she said with a helpless shake of her head. “I don’t remember your face.” She fidgeted, seeming to become agitated.

      Thandie patted her knee reassuringly. “Perhaps next time you’ll remember,” she promised. These were empty words, but they always seemed to have a calming affect on both of them.

      Every once in a while, her mother had a moment of clarity. She never remembered everything, but she remembered enough to know Thandie was her daughter. During those rare occasions, she stroked Thandie’s face and wept openly, apologizing for leaving her at such a young age. Thandie clung to those memories. They always ended with heartbreak, but for those brief moments, she had her mother back. However, they always ended too quickly, and she was left anxiously awaiting the next time her mother would return to her. But it had been over a year now, and she was beginning to lose hope.

      Thandie marveled at how much she favored her mother. They had the same shade of pale brown skin and long ink-black hair. Like her mother, her facial features were small and delicate, making her look younger than her twenty-eight years.

      But there where distinct differences. Chiefly amongst them was Thandie’s height. Measuring just a few inches shy of six feet, she was taller than most women. In contrast to her mother’s petite stature, Thandie had a long lean figure, with subtle curves.

      Abruptly, Josephine broke off mid-sentence and said, “When will Cam come to visit me?”

      Thandie lurched at the words and stared at her mother. The mention of Cam had always been a strange happening. He’d accompanied Thandie on these visits only a handful of times, but her mother had always remembered him. Even at her most cloudy moments, she would ask about Cam out of the blue. But this time there was a lift in her mother’s voice that startled her. She searched her mother’s face. There was a faint glimmer in her eyes. A glimmer of recollection?

      “Mom,” she said, suddenly desperate. “Cam won’t be visiting you anymore. We broke up. Do you recall me telling you that a few months ago?” She leaned forward, watching her mother’s