“He’s a very nice young man,” Lorraine said.

      She pulled another piece from the china cabinet and slid it between two squares of plastic bubble wrap.

      “Huh? I’m sorry, Mom, what did you say?”

      Raven was distracted and had been all afternoon. It was Tuesday and she was using her day off from the show to help her mother pack for the move. The majority of her parents’ belongings would be picked up by a moving truck the following week. They would fly down to Florida with just a few suitcases. It was hard for Raven to believe that this was actually happening. But the closer the day came, she found herself wrought with conflicting emotions. She was happy that her parents were getting the chance to live out their dreams and to enjoy their retirement together in a beautiful, warm climate.

      Her father had put thirty years in with the City and at sixty years old, he was still a healthy, active man. It was her father’s dream to leave the cold, crowded City of New York and spend the rest of his days fishing, swimming and wearing plaid pants and polo shirts; it was her mother’s dream to grow old with her husband, wherever he resided. Raven could just imagine the two of them having the time of their lives in the sunshine state. However, she could not help but feel abandoned at the thought of them leaving her behind. Ironically, that feeling also came with a sense of déjà vu. Even though she was far too young to remember her birth mother, she’d always carried with her a sense of being a castoff. The knowledge that she had been adopted into a loving home did not erase the conflicting understanding of the fact that she had been discarded by her biological parents.

      For a fleeting moment, Raven considered making the move with them. As quickly as that thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Even if she were serious about moving to Florida, there was no way her parents would allow it. They knew how much a career in dance meant to her and New York City was the best place to launch that career. Raven comforted herself with the knowledge that they’d already promised to keep a room ready for her whenever she wanted to visit.

      “I was just saying that I think Dru Davis is a very nice young man. He’s well-mannered…just an extremely likeable person. Is he treating you well?”

      “Yes, Mom…he is. Dru’s great.”

      “He’s a couple of years older than you, isn’t he?”

      “Four. But trust me, he acts like a big kid sometimes,” Raven said, amused.

      “But your father says he’s a smart businessman, working with his dad. Seems like he’s got a great career and future ahead of him.”

      “Yeah, he knows a lot about show business. I’m learning from him, but sometimes I’ve got to reign him back in. The other day he was hinting at me doing some studio work. Telling me about some music producers he knows—”

      “Studio work?” Lorraine asked, confusion ringing clear in her voice.

      “Yeah, like cutting an album or a demo or whatever. I don’t know.”

      “And what did you say?”

      “I told him that I was absolutely not interested in become a pop singer. I mean, come on now, Mom. I’ve got a great voice for what I do, but I am not the next Beyoncé. And I have no desire to do that.”

      “Sounds like Dru thinks differently.”

      “Dru’s just like this bundle of ideas and energy. No sooner than he’s doing one thing is he thinking about the next thing. We’re at a movie and he’s thinking about dinner afterward. We’re eating dinner and he’s scheming on—”

      “Your dessert!” Lorraine chimed.

      “Mom!” Raven said, smacking her mother’s thigh playfully as both women laughed.

      “Well, I’m glad to see you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You’ve always been so serious…so focused. Not that that’s a bad thing. But with your father and I headed down to Florida, it’s comforting to know that you’ve got someone in your life who brings a smile to your face.”

      “Oh, please, Mom. You and Dad will be so busy surfing and skinny-dipping, you won’t even be worrying about me,” Raven joked.

      “I don’t know about all that.” Lorraine laughed, swatting Raven with a roll of plastic. “You just remember, if you need anything, anything at all, you pick up that phone and call us. You hear?”

      “Yes, Mom. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

      Raven leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. They continued their work in silence for a few moments, Raven wrestling with her thoughts. Finally, she allowed the question that had been plaguing her for weeks to come to the surface.

      “Mom, what can you tell me about…about her.”

      Her voice was slightly above a whisper. Raven averted her mother’s gaze, choosing instead to focus on the crystal glass she held in her hands. The room was silent, even the rustle of plastic wrap ceased as her mother looked up toward the ceiling, down at her hands, everywhere but at Raven. Long minutes passed in which the years of unspoken truths were crushed together until they disintegrated.

      “Raven, where is this coming from? Why are you asking this now?”

      “I’ve wanted to ask for a long time. I just didn’t know how you’d react,” Raven admitted.

      Lorraine rose from her perch on the top of the stepladder she’d been sitting on. Raven, who was seated on the hardwood floor, looked up at last as her mother came to rest beside her.

      “After all these years…I just thought that you would never ask. I guess I just hoped you wouldn’t.”

      Lorraine’s voice was strained, as was her facial expression. Raven looked at her mother, noticing the fine lines that had creased themselves into the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. At fifty-nine, Lorraine had aged well. Like her husband, she was healthy and in very good shape. In fact, it was only during moments of stress that she looked a day over forty-five. Raven hated being the cause of any strain or anxiety, but she could not help her desire to know about her past.

      “I’m sorry, Mom. Lately, I’ve just been filled with so many questions. I feel like…like I’m missing something…like I’m incomplete. I just want to get some answers, so that I can move on with my life.”

      Lorraine sighed heavily. She reached out and picked up Raven’s hand, holding it in both of hers.

      “You have beautiful hands,” she said. “Graceful, dainty hands. When you were a very little girl, you always wanted me to paint your fingernails. You’d come into my bedroom, stick both of your fat little hands in my face, wiggling those chubby fingers and say, ‘May I have some colors, Mama?’ And you would sit there, still as a statue while I painted your nails. Then you would blow on them until your puffy little cheeks ached.”

      Raven