CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
JACKIE
One Month Later…
Jackie’s gaze drifted around the room. The renovation had turned out even better than she’d imagined.
Everything was exactly how she wanted it—the floors, the lighting, the open kitchen.
Every detail had been intentional. For months she’d obsessed over paint colors, fixtures, countertops, and floor plans.
Now that it was finally finished, she loved it.
She really did. This house had been good to her.
She’d raised her boys here, built a life here, learned how to stand on her own two feet here.
Jackie always thought this house would be her forever home.
Now she wasn’t so sure. The house hadn’t changed, she had.
Somewhere along the way, the survivor in her had made room for someone softer.
MJ was home. Max was thriving. Najee’s house was nearly finished, and for the first time in a long time, Jackie found herself looking forward instead of looking back.
That truth still felt strange, like she’d spent years fighting to keep a chapter open.
Only to realize her story had changed, and the best parts had yet to even be written.
Nef’s eyes continued moving around the room, taking everything in. “It’s cute in here.”
The compliment sounded reluctant, like it physically pained her to say it. Jackie smirked.
“Not cute though.” Nef rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”
“I do.” A brief silence sat between them now.
It wasn’t heavy, but it carried its own weight.
Weight neither woman really wanted to address.
They had been estranged for many years. But they were far from strangers.
They knew each other too well, and not at all.
One of Nef’s daughters darted through the living room laughing before disappearing down the hallway.
Both women watched her go. “You sure about this?” Nef asked.
Jackie looked over. And there it was — the real question.
Not about the house, but about the why.
Because if Nef had anywhere else to go, Jackie would’ve been the last person she called. And if somebody had told Jackie a year ago, she’d be handing over the keys to her newly renovated house to Marcus’s wife, she would’ve laughed in their face. “No,” Jackie said. “I’m not that evolved.”
To her surprise, a small laugh escaped Nef. Real. “I figured.” “Good.”
For a moment neither woman spoke. Then Jackie sighed. “You looked out for MJ.” Nef’s expression shifted. Something quieter settled over her. Jackie thought about the pictures, the text messages, the little pieces of her son Nef had slipped her when Marcus would’ve given her nothing.
“You ain’t owe me that,” Jackie said. Nef looked away first. “He needed his mother.”
The answer came quick. Matter-of-fact. Like there was nothing else to say. Jackie nodded. “And right now your kids need somewhere stable to land.” Nef didn’t have a comeback. She just stood there, tired. Jackie recognized that exhaustion. She’d worn it herself many of days.
“Stay as long as you need to get on your feet,” Jackie said. Nef’s jaw tightened.
“We won’t be here long. Trust.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Jackie replied. She held out the keys.
“But if you need longer, it’s here.” Nef looked down at them, genuinely uncomfortable.
Jackie dropped the keys into her hand. “I just ask that you respect my home and keep the energy good in here.” Nef nodded once, before tossing a little shade.
“Well, when you leave, we can start the good vibe process.”
Jackie didn’t even bother turning around. She just grabbed her purse and started toward the door. She was halfway there when the old Jackie tried to surface — the version that would’ve had something slick to say back. Instead, she let out a slow breath. Growth was ghetto.
“Nef.” Nef looked up, “I wrote my number on the fridge. If you need anything, call me.”
The room fell quiet. Jackie was to the front door when she heard it.
“Thank you, Jackie.” The words stopped her.
Because deep down Jackie knew she meant them.
Jackie glanced back over her shoulder. Nef was still standing in the middle of the living room, keys in hand, pride and gratitude fighting for space on her face.
Jackie nodded once, then let herself out.
The front door clicked shut behind her. Jackie stood on the porch for a second and looked down the block.
Everything looked the same—he rowhomes, the cracked sidewalks, the corner store.
Juan was already on his porch drunk, arguing with somebody who wasn’t there. Nothing had changed.
“But if you need longer, it’s here.” Nef looked down at them, genuinely uncomfortable.
Taking help was one thing. Taking help from Jackie was another.
Jackie dropped the keys into her hand. “I just ask that you respect my home and keep the energy good in here.” Nef nodded once.
Jackie grabbed her purse and started toward the door.
She was halfway there when the old Jackie tried to surface — the version that would’ve had something slick to say, something sharp.
Instead, she let out a slow breath. Growth was ghetto. “Nef.”
Yet somehow, standing there, everything felt different.
Maybe it wasn’t the neighborhood. Maybe it was her.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she took a deep breath and started toward her truck.
She was halfway there when a horn sounded behind her.
Jackie turned just as Najee’s black Porsche truck rolled up alongside the curb.
MJ sat behind the wheel looking entirely too grown for her liking.
Max was in the backseat with a cup of cherry water ice in one hand, red syrup covering his mouth and probably the backseat too. Najee sat in the passenger seat, calm as ever. Jackie stopped walking. Absolutely-the-fuck-not. She walked over and leaned down to the open passenger-side window.
“Najee, why you got him driving this truck?” MJ grinned.
“What’s up, Ma?”
“Don’t ‘what’s up, Ma’ me.”
She looked past Najee at her son before turning back to him.
“Nigel, he ain’t even on your insurance yet—”
“He has his driver’s license,” Najee said gently, cutting her off. “And he’s a very safe, capable driver. I’m right here just in case.” Jackie looked back at MJ. “You’re only seventeen.”
“I’ll be eighteen in three months, Ma.” He shrugged. “Besides, Mr. Najee said he was gon’ help me find a wheel before school.” Jackie slowly turned her head toward Najee. “You not grown,” she told MJ without taking her eyes off Najee. MJ couldn’t help but laugh. “Ma—”
“You hush.” Najee smiled. “He’s still your baby.
But he’s also a responsible young man.” She let out a small sigh.
“I know.” Najee reached through the open window and took her hand, his thumb brushing lightly across her knuckles.
“He’ll be alright.” Jackie looked from Najee to MJ, then back again.
She knew he was right. It was just hard watching the little boy she’d spent years praying to get back suddenly look old enough to drive away from her.
Najee lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.
“We’ll be careful.” That finally earned him a smile. “I know you will.”
From the backseat, Max leaned forward between the seats, holding up his cherry water ice. “Ma! We going to get blue crabs and shrimps!” Jackie laughed. “Oh, y’all living good today, huh?” Max nodded proudly. “Yup, Mr. Najee got paid.” Najee slowly turned in his seat and gave him a look.
Jackie reached into her purse, pulled out a wet wipe, and leaned through the open window to clean the cherry syrup from Max’s mouth and little hands. “Quit trying to be grown, okay?”
“Okay.” She kissed the top of his head before he settled back into his seat, resting his little hand on Najee’s arm.
“You’re fine,” Najee said, patting his hand.
“Now sit back and put your seatbelt on.” Max nodded and did exactly that.
“Ma, you coming too?” MJ asked. Jackie glanced at the time on her phone and sighed.
“I wish I could. I gotta meet my staff at the venue.
We setting up for the Walima.”
“We’ll bring you something back.”
“You better.” She pointed at Max. “And don’t let him eat too many crabs.”
Then she pointed at Najee. “I’m talking to you.”
“I won’t,” Max whispered, making the biggest smile spread across Jackie’s face.
Najee gave her hand one last squeeze before letting it go. “We got this.”
Jackie looked at the three of them one more time—her oldest behind the wheel, her youngest sticky-faced and smiling in the back, the man she loved sitting beside them both. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what it felt like to be afraid. She smiled. “Alright. Y’all have fun.”
“We will!” Max yelled as MJ eased away from the curb.
Jackie stood there until the truck disappeared around the corner. Then she climbed into her own car. As she pulled away, she caught herself humming along with the music on the radio.
A month ago, she was living through every mother’s worst nightmare. Today, she was driving toward answered prayers, peace, and a life she no longer had to fight to keep. Jackie Brown wasn’t surviving anymore. She was living, and finally she had the peace to tell the difference.