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father began during her teens. She, a privileged young lady from Radnor, was doing volunteer work (a mandatory school project) in the impoverished city of Chester, Pennsylvania. The residents of Chester were accustomed to white volunteers from the Main Line but never a black volunteer. The few blacks living in Radnor had long ago distanced themselves from their country cousins and wouldn’t dream of venturing into the “wilds” of Chester to lend a helping hand.
    Kai’s presence in Chester puzzled the residents. She was obviously biracial, but assumed the attitude and dialect of a white girl. She was there to do her civic duty for the downtrodden blacks, and there was no recognition or sign of kinship in her eyes.
    Folks scratched their heads, trying to figure her out. Her last name is Montgomery, huh? Don’t that name sound familiar? Then old Miss Celestine, a historian of sorts, recalled the white doctor. The liberal. You know, the one who used to volunteer at the clinic a few days a week? Memories were refreshed. Tongues began to wag. The one who knocked up that black girl and then adopted the baby? It was a baby girl, wasn’t it? Uh-huh, she’d be about Kai’s age by now. Hmmm! What happened to the mother? Don’t know. She wasn’t from ’round here anyway. Didn’t she run off with some musician? Uh-huh, that’s right. Never heard from again.
    The gossip and speculations soon reached Kai’s ears; the seeds of suspicion were firmly planted. “How do you disown your own child?” Kai asked her father, years later when she finally mustered the nerve. “You say you adopted me because you love me, but I think you were motivated by guilt. So…if you have nothing to hide, let me see the adoption papers. My birth records. Be honest; tell me who I really am.”
    “Your birth records are sealed. Let’s leave it that way,” her father said, ending the subject.
    Screaming how much she hated her coldblooded lying-ass parents, Kai had pounded up the stairs to her bedroom and slammed the door. The subject was never mentioned again. Her parents never knew the degree of hurt nor the burning shame Kai felt regarding her heritage.

Chapter Five
    T he turkey was baked to perfection, but Terelle didn’t attempt to make the macaroni and cheese; it never turned out right, so Aunt Bennie (short for Benita) brought her delicious baked macaroni and cheese. Aunt Bennie lost points, however, when she tried to pass off a tub of canned Glory collards as homemade.
    “Addin’ some smoked turkey to canned food don’t make it homemade,” Gran complained. “And I still don’t see why we had to have Thanksgiving dinner in this cramped-up little apartment. Had me walkin’ up all those stairs…It’s a wonder my heart didn’t just up and explode.” Gran scowled as she sized up the small kitchen, the even smaller dining area and living room.
    “Mom, you know Terelle doesn’t want to miss Marquise’s call,” Aunt Bennie explained.
    “Oh, God!” Terelle glared at her aunt, chastising her with her eyes for bringing up Marquise’s name. Aunt Bennie shrugged; her expression asked: what did I do?
    Gran looked over her glasses at the phone suspiciously. “Terelle, you still payin’ for that boy to call you collect? You had to work overtime to pay for all those calls while you was livin’ with me. And don’t think I don’t know about all those expensive boots and sneakers and things you was sending him. What the hell he need that stuff for anyhow? He’s in jail! Don’t they have to wear them orange jumpsuits?”
    “Gran, why you worrying about what I do…as long as I take care of Keeta…”
    “Hmph! Lord, you ’bout as dumb as they come,” Gran interrupted. “Look at you! Out here struggling with a child, all on your own, and you mean to tell me you’re still lettin’ that boy run up your phone bill?”
    “Let’s eat.” Terelle began scooping collards on Gran’s plate. Best to stuff Gran’s mouth with food