I’m not one to be all that open to sharing my feelings. Most men I’ve known are not even sure what a feeling is, much less able to describe it or talk about it. But since Layla was born and even before, with Maggie and Mama Vermillion and everything that had happened, I’d had my interior life in my face, so to speak, and it was obvious that whatever was going on with Mama, Maggie, Layla and me, the only way to deal with it was to surrender. Being a man, I’m highly resistant to that concept, but at this point it had become painfully clear that there was something going on here way bigger than all of us, and if I was going to fully understand it I needed to just let go.

Maggie put her arm around my waist and with her head on my shoulder we walked home in silence. Layla was sleeping in the stroller. I was in a surreal and altered state, not knowing what to make of the vision I’d just had in the flower shop. Everything was just swirling around in my head, and then Maggie said, “Baby, do you want to break our relationship with Mama Vermillion? Is this too much for you?”