Judith strolls away from her dresser and toward her bed. The sun is high and beaming through her window, illuminating her would-be dim room. She's left with two things at the bottom of her suitcase: her journal and her 007 knife.

She grips the handle in her right hand, remembering Jerome and how he figuratively lifts stones from her shoulders. She smiles at the image of his round face. Then she takes the notebook in her other hand and envisions David stacking boulders on her back.

"Judy, Mom needs you downstairs," Stevie says as he bursts into her room. She turns at her hips, and his eyes widen when he sees the tool. "Is that the knife from that James Bond movie? It's out of sight!"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "A friend of mine bought it for me, but I doubt I'll keep it."

"Can I have it?" She furrows her eyebrows at his question and behavior.

"No. You know Ma would never let you have one, at least not until you're sixteen." He folds his arms, and she returns to her dresser. She sits it in her top drawer with her journal, then walks with him downstairs.

Sheryl's sitting on the sofa, staring at a framed wedding picture of her and Walter. Judith stands next to the television box across from her.

"You called for me?" She lifts her head and glances at the arch. Judy follows her eyes.

"While your uncle was housesitting, he wrote down the names and numbers of people who called," she explains monotonously. "A few people called you. Go look for the paper on the counter."

Judith strolls into the kitchen, and Sheryl returns her attention to the picture. Stevie wanders upstairs.

Jerome, David – Kacey? I'll call David last.

She takes the phone to her ear and spins the numbers, redialing her. She listens to the faint droning followed by a click and light breathing.

"McDaniels residence. This is Paola McDaniels speaking," a woman with an angelic voice introduces herself and soothes Judy's anxious nerves.

"Hi, my name is Judith Jefferson, and I was looking for Kacey," she says. "I was away for a while and was told that she called me. I attend Darlington University with her, and I'm in the Christian group she's in."

"Okay, well, she's with her business partners in a meeting, but I'll be sure to let her know you called." Judith's grin fades as the woman rushes her off the phone. "Have a nice day!"

"You – too," she pauses halfway when a sharp click exits the speaker, indicating that she'd hung up. As she mashes the small button to reset the call, she sighs with annoyance. She spins the wheel and listens to the dial tone, leaning her hip against the counter. She checks her nails just as the other end rattles.

"Hello," a groggy voice greets her, and she furrows her eyebrows.

"Is this Jerome," she asks, and the caller clears his throat.

"No, this is Justin. Who's this?" She rolls her eyes when she remembers he has a twin brother.

"It's Judy – from school. I just got back in town, and I was told he called." Justin chuckles, but she doesn't react until it grows louder. "What's so funny?"

"First off, he's at work. I didn't go because I sprained my ankle," he explains, but before he can continue, she interrupts.

"Look, I don't care." He falls silent, and for that moment, all she hears is plastic rustling and him breathing heavily.

"You know," he begins, crunching chips in his mouth as he speaks. "You're real mouthy for someone that was passed around by Black Ted Bundy."

"The fuck did you say?" She lowers her voice to that of a whisper, ignoring the continuous chewing.

"David told everyone in our dorm that he fucked you." Judith freezes, the spirit in her eyes dim, and her lips fall agape. "Crazy enough, you missed him this morning. He swung by to tell Jerome how he marked his territory."

"When will he be back from work," she raises her voice to overpower his obnoxious laughter.

"He's not talking to you. He made that very clear," Justin explains, stretching very for emphasis. "I wouldn't be surprised if he walks by you without speaking. Hey, but congrats on the scholarship to Morehead. I guess that tantrum worked, huh?"

Judith slams the handset to the hookswitch, her teeth gnashed.

"Judy," Sheryl yells from the living room, and Judith leans against the counter with her hands pressed against the surface for support.

"Sorry, Mom." She takes a deep breath, a chill rushing down her spine and straightening her posture. She returns it to her ear, spins the numbers, then rhythmically taps her fingers against the countertop.

"Cambridge residence." Judith squeezes her hand on the phone, her palm glowing red.

She wants to scream, curse, and fight him, but all she can muster is, "Keep my fucking name out of your mouth."

"Well, good morning to you too," he sarcastically says.

"Fuck you and your good mornings! Tell the truth to everyone that you lied to about us!" David chuckles, the swift motion of his hand dragging across his lips muffling his chilling laughter.

"Judy, I said that to Mary because that bitch was clingier than a puppy." She scoffs, but before she can respond, he continues, "How was the funeral?"

"Fuck you," she says through her teeth, and he sighs.

"I'm glad this is the last time you're going to Alabama," he mumbles. "I'm noticing how masculine you're being right now, and it's definitely a boner-killer. Maybe I should get back with Mary. She had her issues, but at least she spoke to me like a lady should."

"Maybe you should because the chances of us being a happy couple died the first time you hurt me. After that, there wasn't love. It was survival," Judith explains, taking jaded breaths as a lump forms in her throat. "I never even got a chance to feel any love for you now that I think about it. I guess the real reason l tried to help you through your issues was because I was afraid Stevie might turn out just like you, but no, he's who I need to worry about. You're a reprobate."

"I guess you figured me out, huh?" David scoffs at her confession and asks, "What issues do I have, Sigmund Freud?"

She pauses in thought, contemplating whether she should answer him or change the subject. She takes a shaky breath and swallows her nervousness.

"You have a father complex. It's why you idolize your Uncle – the bachelor who takes you to his country club – because you want someone to teach you how to be a man." David doesn't speak, so she continues, "And your mother gave you the opposite side of that parental coin. You want a woman to nurture you because she never spent time with you. So it's like – you want a woman to love you, but you can't accept it or allow yourself to get it before you snap and scare the person away."

"You done?" Judith sighs, then rolls her glossy eyes onto the paper in front of her. "Since you're taking a class in Psychology all of a sudden, let me give you something to think about: how about you fix your princess complex? Wait, let me finish. It's your Dad's fault, right? He spoiled you so much you can't walk; you have to be carried?"

"At least my Dad stayed in my life, unlike yours," she argues, and he laughs through his tears.

"Well, at least mine is alive." She blinks back, and tears glide off her puffy cheeks. "In fact, he's just pulling into the driveway, so I'm gonna see if he feels like going bowling. I'll let you cry in peace."

A faint click dips in her ear, and she chokes on a breath. Judith hangs up the phone in one hand and holds her trembling mouth in the other. Another set of tears glide down and ride off her dainty fingers, but she doesn't wipe them away. Her body shakes as she pushes back the sob forced down by the lump in her throat.

The phone rings, and she sniffles, sliding her hand off her face and clearing half of the trail of tears. She sniffles again and returns the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She takes a shaky breath and listens to the faint speech away from the caller's phone. "Hello?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Kacey takes a shaky breath to contain the excitement laced in her voice. "Um, okay, so I spoke to Doctor Ahmed and another representative for the school in North Carolina. Judy, this is huge shit – sorry, Mom."

"Oh, that's who you had the meeting with," Judith says with an airy tone, and Kacey clears her throat. "What happened?"

"I got in! We all did." She lets out a euphoric screech like a schoolgirl, and Judith pulls the phone from her face, her ear buzzing. When she calms down, she returns it to her ear and listens to her panting with glee. "He gave me a pamphlet for you because I said I'd swing by and take you with us for the tour."

"The tour? Oh, Kace, I'm sorry, but I can't," she drags her words, weariness creeping up on her. "My Mom doesn't know I even thought about going, and I could never tell her. Especially not right now. Everyone needs me."

"Judy, forgive me if I don't understand, but I have seven siblings, and five are Ivy League alumni," she begins. "I'm the youngest, and if I don't go to one of the biggest black colleges in the US, I'll have to settle for the school in Darlington. Beggars can't be choosers, but when you see the brochure, you'll see how heavenly the place is."

"Just because it looked good on paper doesn't mean it will in person." Kacey sighs at her cynical response.

"Okay, listen, I'll go with the main three tonight and let you know how it was when we get back," she says. "Sound good?"

"Yeah, sure." Judith sniffles, then gnaws her top lip.

"Cool. Talk to you tomorrow." They say their goodbyes before hanging up.

***

Judith drags her feet through the snow, blanketing the soil around a rose-red Impala. She's dressed in jeans, fur boots that reach her knees, and a puffer coat striped with the colors of pumpkin spice and black.

She leans forward and looks at her reflection in the passenger's window. Her hair drapes down either side of her face, and she taps the knuckle of her middle finger against the glass.

The door swings open, and the slow music playing from the radio invites her in. She shuts the door behind her, but her eyes are trained on the dark and gentle ones locked on her.

"I missed you," Judith tells Jerome, and when he smiles, she does the same. She turns her hips to him and sits her hand against his cheek, caressing his skin under her thumb.

"I miss you too, Judy." He sits his hand on hers and closes his eyes against the warmth of her palm. He leans in, and her arm rests against the back of his sweatshirt's collar.

He presses his lips against hers, kissing her with the passion of a veteran to their wife for the first time in years.

He pulls her onto his lap with her sitting sidesaddle, and the heels of her boots kick the gearshift into drive. The Impala cruises toward the cliff's edge overlooking the city, but they don't notice.

He leaves trails of kisses along the length of the side of her neck, starting under her earlobe. Without a thought to restrain her, she says, "I love you."

He draws back, and they look into each other's eyes. He smiles with his top row of teeth, and as they descend the slope at roller coaster speed, he declares, "I love you too."

She pushes herself up and straddles him, his hands clutching the back of her puffer coat. They kiss under the veil of her dark hair, and thin trees zoom past the windows. The moonlight guides them down the snowy slope, approaching the city's bright lights.

***

"Judy," Vera wakes her from her dream. She's standing over her bed, and Judith squints through the darkness, noticing her shoulders racking. She's crying faintly while clutching her white delicates in her left hand, water dripping from between her fingers. "I did it again."

"Oh, Vera." She tosses her blanket off of her legs and sits on the side with her back slouched.

"I did what you said, and I washed it, then changed," she says, and Judith nods, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes as the rest leaves her body in a yawn.

"Okay, I think now is the best time to have the talk." Vera sits beside her, and her brows pull together with a crease above her nose bridge.