The Truth

                                                             Flashback: Six Months Ago

Jordan made his way into the house, walking straight up to his grandfather's room. Jordan had rushed home when he got the call that his grandfather was dying. He was still plenty angry at him, but in the end, Jordan went along with everything, so he was more to blame. 

Walking into the room, he rushed to his grandmother's side.

"Oh, Jordy, look at you! All grown up, I am so glad you came…I thought…"

"You thought because he did what he did, I wouldn't come? I'm not like him, Grandma. I am not a monster who hates."

"Jordy?" Came a frail voice, and Jordan looked at the man who had taken the love of his life away. 

"Grandfather."

"There was a time you called me Pawpaw." He said weakly. 

"That was when I respected you," Jordan said. "Look, I didn't come here to fight. I just… I couldn't not see you. No matter what you've done."

"Jordy… I'm sorry. I never…" He started coughing, and Jordan handed him a drink as he continued. "I never meant to hurt you, and I thought she would ruin you. But I did instead."

"I did everything you dreamed. I left the love of my life and was drafted into the NFL. I have an eight-year-old daughter who doesn't know me, but I am famous. I have a daughter I have never seen; I wouldn't even know her if she walked in here. But I'm rich."

George pointed a shaky finger to the bedside drawer. "Look…" He said, and Jordan raised an eyebrow, looking where he pointed. As Jordan opened the drawer, he noticed unopened cards addressed to Jordan. 

"What…" He stopped speaking as he recognized the handwriting and then the return addresses. Some of the letters were from South Carolina, while others were from Ohio. "What did you do?" Jordan said through gritted teeth.

“Protect…protect…” 

His grandfather tried to get out, but Jordan stood furious. "You were trying to protect yourself! I can't believe you did this!" 

Jerry ran into the room, hearing Jordan upset. "Jordan, stop yelling; you are upsetting your grandfather."

"Tell him what you did!" Jordan yelled at him. "Tell my father, your son, how you pushed Laila away because she was pregnant and Black. How you guilted me at 17 to not tell my dad, who was in the hospital because he was sick, that I got her pregnant. How you spent the last 8 years keeping these cards a secret!"

Jerry looked from his father to Jordan and shook his head. "What is happening?"

Pauline sighed. "Jordan didn't just return home to help you, son, Jordan and his girlfriend at the time..."

"Laila," Jerry said.

"Yes." Pauline agreed. "They got pregnant, and when your father found out, he lost it. Forbid me to speak of it and bullied Jordan into breaking that poor girl's heart. Paid her off to leave him alone." Pauline looked at Sam. "I didn't know she sent those letters, Jordan. I didn't know."

Jerry looked at his father. "You kept this secret from me; you had my son lie to me about my grandchild; why? Because she was black?"

"I need to get out of here," Jordan said, running out of the room. Jerry looked at his father. "Why?"

"She wasn't good….enough." He coughed out. 

"He loved her; that made her good enough."

Jerry walked out of his room and found Jordan sitting on the sofa reading a letter.

"Dear Jordan, I don't know why I am writing you, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with us, but I thought I should tell you that I decided to keep our daughter. She was born on Valentine's Day. Makes sense that she would be delivered on the day representing love, considering she was made from love. Anyways, I named her Malaya Jordan Jones. Because even though you want nothing to do with her, she's a part of you. It's more than you deserve, but I did it for her, not you. Here's a photo. 

Laila ."

Jordan wiped his eyes, looking at a photo of his daughter in Laila's arms. He could tell Laila was tired, but she was grinning from ear to ear. He grabbed the next card that was sent a year later. 

"Jordan, I can not believe it's been a year. A whole year with your daughter, and you didn't reach out once. A part of me hoped. Shame on me, right? Laya is doing fantastic, growing so fast, and is so intelligent and quick, even at one. She gets that from me. But I noticed she is so goofy and brilliant; I have you to thank for that. She's already walking and can say "momma." You'd love her if you ever met her. I know you would.  

Laila ."

In that envelope was a photo of Malaya walking and Laila reaching out for her. Then there was one of Malaya sitting in a high chair with a beautiful small cake that had a one on it, and she had dug into it, grinning with cake smeared all over her face. Jordan smiled through his tears as he reached for the third one. 

"She's two now, talking up a storm and walking everywhere her little legs would take her. I love her so much. She's everything to me, Jordan, and you gave her to me, so I can't hate you, no matter how much I want to hate you."

She didn't sign her name; she just added more photos of a growing Malaya. As Jordan went through the photos and letters, he noticed Laila had stopped writing more than a sentence. He picked up the last letter that was sent in March of 2025 and opened it. 

"Jordan, I wonder if you are getting these. I hope, but who knows? Our daughter is a beautiful eight-year-old. And it breaks my heart to look at her, see you, and not have you here. She has your eyes, smile, love of everything Marvel, and a positive outlook on life. It's fitting that I don't have you, but I have your twin. She wrote a beautiful paragraph on Family that was featured in the school newsletter. You should be proud."

Jordan looked at the photos. The first was of Malaya and Laila dressed up as Black Widow (Laila ) and Ms. Marvel (Malaya) for Halloween. Then Laila dressed as Mrs. Claus, and Malaya dressed as an adorable Elf. They were in the children's wing of a hospital, handing out gifts. Then, Malaya and Laila had a Ms. Marvel-themed birthday party. 

The last item was the paper. "My name is Malaya Jones, and I am eight years old. My mom is what I think of when I think of Family, and she's a superhero." Jordan laughed as he continued. "I don't know my dad, but he might be one, too. My mom taught me that love is always growing. Like her love for me. And that we need to share that love with the world. So we can all be Family."

Jordan and his father sat silently for a long moment before Judy walked into the room; by the look on her face, Pauline had told her everything. She walked over to Jordan and picked up the photos. Taking a breath, she looked at her husband, who was at a loss for words, and looked at Sam. "She's so beautiful."

Jordan looked at his mom. "She is. Laila said she looks like me, but all I see is her mom in her… I've missed so much."

Judy nodded. "I know."

"You could have told us, son; we would have understood," Jerry said softly. 

"You were in the hospital after having a heart attack. How could I tell you I got her pregnant? That I was planning to leave school and get my GED to be with her? I had to step up for the Family, but I lost them in the process."

Judy moved to wrap her arms around Jordan and hug him tightly. "It's not too late, I know it seems that way, but Jordan, if you want to know your daughter, you have a chance. Call her or go to one of these addresses; fight for your child."

Jordan did as his mother suggested, and when Mariah saw him, she promptly kicked him to the curb while letting slip that Laila would be home for Christmas. He needed to see her; he needed to see his child. He knew he probably didn't deserve another chance, but he wanted one.