His name is Marcus Richardson. All three children stared at the photo. Cameron touched the picture gently. “He has my eyes,” Cameron said. “Yes,” Destiny said. “He does.” That night, Destiny tucked Chloe into bed. Khloe looked up at her with tears in her green eyes. “Mama, does Daddy know we exist?” Destiny’s heart broke.
I tried to tell him, baby. I tried. Maybe he forgot where we live, Chloe said. Maybe we should find him and remind him. After Chloe fell asleep, Destiny sat in her living room. Angela sat next to her. They deserve to meet him. Destiny said quietly. Even if he does not deserve to meet them. Are you sure? Angela [clears throat] asked. No, Destiny said.
But Chloe cries every night. She thinks her father does not love her. I cannot let her grow up believing that. The next morning, Destiny made a phone call. Hello, I need to hire a private investigator. The coffee shop in downtown Boston was quiet on Thursday morning. Destiny sat at a corner table, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea she had not touched.
She checked her watch. 10:15. The investigator was late. The door opened. A man walked in. He was about 50 years old with gray hair and tired eyes. He wore a dark jacket and carried a leather briefcase. He looked around the coffee shop until his eyes found Destiny. He walked over. Miss Williams? Yes. Destiny stood and shook his hand.
Mr. Gray. Thomas Gray, please sit. He sat across from her and placed his briefcase on the table. You said on the phone, you need to find someone. Yes. Destiny pulled a folder from her bag. His name is Marcus Richardson. He is 36 years old. Last I knew, he lived in Greenwich, Connecticut. He worked at his family’s investment firm.
Thomas opened the folder. He looked at the photo of Marcus that Destiny had included. How long has it been since you saw him? 6 years. And why do you need to find him? Destiny hesitated. Then she said, “He is the father of my children. He does not know they exist. I tried to tell him 6 years ago, but he never answered my calls.
Now my children are asking questions. They deserve to meet their father.” Thomas nodded slowly. “I will be honest with you, Miss Williams. People like Marcus Richardson are easy to find. Men from wealthy families leave trails everywhere. The question is not if I can find him. The question is what you will do when I do.
I just want him to meet his children. [music] Destiny said that is all. $5,000. Thomas said half now, half when I deliver the report. I will have information for you within 2 weeks. Destiny wrote him a check. Thomas shook her hand again and left. For two weeks, Destiny waited. She went to work. She played with the triplets.
She made dinner. She read bedtime stories. But every night, she wondered what Thomas would find. Did Marcus have a good life? Was he happy? Did he ever think about her? On a Tuesday afternoon, Thomas called. Miss Williams, I have the report. Can we meet? They met at the same coffee shop. Thomas placed a thick folder on the table. I found everything.
Destiny opened the folder with shaking hands. The first page was a photo of Marcus. He was older now. His face looked tired. He wore an expensive suit and stood in front of a tall building in Stamford. He still works at Richardson Investment Group, Thomas said. His office is on the 32nd floor. He makes $400,000 a year.
Destiny turned the page. Another photo. Marcus standing next to a blonde woman. They were dressed formally at some event. The woman smiled at the camera. Marcus did not. Who is she? Destiny [music] asked, though she already knew. Rebecca Hart Richardson, his wife. They got married 5 months after you and Marcus broke up. Destiny felt something sharp in her chest. 5 months.
He married someone else 5 months after abandoning her while she was pregnant. Do they have children? Destiny asked quietly. No. According to my sources, they have been trying for 5 years. No success. Destiny turned more pages. Photos of a large house in Greenwich. Photos of Marcus’s mother, Elizabeth Richardson. Photos of the Richardson estate.
His mother controls everything, Thomas said. The business, the family money, Marcus’ trust fund. She comes from old Connecticut money. Very traditional, very private. Did you find out why he left me? Destiny asked. Thomas was quiet for a moment. I talked to someone who worked at the estate 6 years ago, a housekeeper. She said Mrs.
Richardson discovered Marcus was dating a black woman. She told Marcus he had to end it or she would cut him off completely. He chose the money. Destiny closed her eyes. She had suspected this, but hearing it confirmed made it real. Marcus had loved her, but he had loved his comfortable life more. There is something else, Thomas said.
He pulled out another paper. Elizabeth Richardson is planning a big birthday party, her 60th. It is happening in 3 months. 200 guests. All of Greenwich Society will be there. The event planner filed permits for a tent, catering, parking. It will be at the Richardson Estate. Destiny looked at the date on the permit. Saturday, June 8th.
Thank you, Mr. Gray. Destiny said, “This is exactly what I needed.” That night, Destiny sat in her living room. Angela came over after putting the triplets to bed upstairs. “Did you get the report?” [music] Angela asked. “Yes,” Destiny handed her the folder. Angela flipped through the pages. Her face got angry.
“He got married 5 months later.” “Five months?” “Yes.” “And his mother made him do it. She threatened him.” Angela threw the folder on the coffee table. “What are you going to do?” “I am going to that birthday party,” Destiny said calmly. “I am bringing the children.” Angela stared at her. “You are going to show up at his mother’s party with three kids who look exactly like him.
” “Yes, Destiny, that is bold. That is going to cause a scene.” “Good,” Destiny said. His mother destroyed his chance at happiness because of racism. She needs to see what that cost him. Marcus needs to see his children. And Cameron, Caleb, and Chloe need to meet their father. Are you sure about this? Angela asked. Once you do this, you cannot take it back.
I am sure. I am not doing this for revenge. I am doing this because Chloe cries every night asking why her daddy does not love her. I cannot let my children believe they are not wanted. The next morning, Destiny drove to Neiman Marcus in Boston. She walked through the designer section. She found a white Stella McCartney dress.
It was simple and elegant and cost $3,000. The saleswoman asked, “Special occasion?” “Very special,” Destiny said. She bought the dress. Over the next 2 months, Destiny planned everything. She called a helicopter rental company. I need to charter a helicopter from Boston to Greenwich, Connecticut on June 8th. The man on the phone said that will be $5,000 for the round trip. Done.
