Free Suspicions by Sasha Campbell

took the words from my mouth.
    I reached down and removed the blanket and my heart stilled. There laid a beautiful little girl, barely six weeks old, with a Post-it note stuck to the front of a frilly pink dress that read, Sierra . She was wide awake and staring right at me.
    Whitney rushed to my side and gasped. “Where did she come from?”
    I shook my head. “How the hell would I know?” Who in the world would leave their daughter on the front porch of a stranger’s house in late May? I looked to my left and then my right, checking to see if anyone was watching, then reached for the handle and carried her inside. Whitney grabbed a yellow diaper bag and followed. I placed Sierra on the coffee table, then the two of us just stared at her. Sierra was chocolate with a head full of curly hair. Her eyes were so familiar my pulse started to race. I had this weird feeling we had met before.
    â€œShe sure is a cute little thing.”
    â€œYes, she is.” I reached inside her diaper bag, looking for something that would tell me whom she belonged to. At the bottom of her diaper bag I found an envelope. Whitney got all up in my face, being nosy. What I saw scribbled on the front made my heart stop.
    Gordon .
    It was my last name. I opened the flap and removed the card inside. What done in the dark . . . was in big bold letters. My eyes snapped to meet Whitney’s, and I could see the look of surprise on her face as she tried to find the right words.
    â€œI hate to say this . . . but, Noelle . . . that little girl looks just like Grant. Especially those green eyes.”
    If there was ever a time I wanted to slap her, it was now. How could she even think such a thing? It was okay for me to think it, but for Whitney to suggest it was totally uncalled for. “Whitney, puhleeze! If that baby belongs to anyone, it’s Scott.”
    She rubbed her belly like it was no big deal. “Oh . . . yeah. I guess that is a possibility.”
    I rolled my eyes at her for even hinting that Grant had been messing around with another woman. My husband would never do such a thing. He had no reason to. I picked up the baby and held her in my arms.
    â€œWell, she’s definitely a beautiful baby,” Whitney commented. She knew I was pissed and was trying to diffuse the situation. She never did like making me mad.
    I couldn’t stop looking at Sierra. She looked so much like my son. “Yes . . . she is.” She had the Gordon family’s eyes and round nose. At that moment, I just knew this baby belonged to me. I’m a grandmother. For some reason, having a grandchild felt almost as exciting as having a child of my own. “I’ve got to see her feet.”
    â€œHer feet?” Whitney repeated and laughed.
    â€œYou’ll understand when you have a child of your own.” I slipped off her little white bootee and smiled when I saw her flat feet and the burgundy birthmark at her left heel. Just like Grant. Just like Scott. I started laughing.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?”
    â€œThis is Scott’s baby! I’d know those feet anywhere.” I kissed her little cheek, then lifted her in my arms and held her close again. “This is my grandbaby.”
    â€œGood thing your old ass didn’t try and have another baby. Your baby would have been younger than your grandchild.” She started cackling like a hyena.
    Okay, it was time for Whitney’s ass to go. I needed time to digest the whole idea. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
    â€œNo, actually, I came in for a piece of coconut cake, remember?” I watched as she moved into the kitchen and helped herself. “So which one of them chicks you think dropped that baby off on your porch?” Whitney called from the other room.
    â€œThere’s no telling,” I mumbled as I cradled my granddaughter in my arm.
    Scott had a way with women. He was undeniably charming, just like his father.