Chapter 16
“Sure.” He forced a smile and followed Darrell up the walkway to the house. He was a trial attorney who faced tough opponents every damn day.
Get a grip.
Darrell reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. He twisted the knob. “Mama? It’s Darrell.”
They stepped down a short hallway and turned left into what was apparently a living room. On an elegant mauve sofa sat a middle-aged African American woman, with her ear to a phone. She smiled briefly at them.
“Jen? I have to go, my son has arrived. Yes, I’ll call you later. Bye.” She rose and came toward them. “Darrell, how lovely.”
“Mama, how are you feeling?”
Mrs. Lincoln was an attractive woman with high cheekbones and sparkling dark eyes. She wore her hair pulled tight into a severe bun and was dressed in an A-Line black skirt with an ivory blouse. She offered her cheek to her son, who quickly kissed her.
“I’m all right. I do have a smidge of a headache. This must be your…friend.”