Donna Hill - Legacy of Love

“Victoria, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”

He watched her throat move and the words come up and then get swallowed. She pushed back from the table and stood. Then without another word she turned and nearly ran away. Several heads turned in her direction and then his. Questions hung in their eyes before they turned back to what they were doing.

Jackson sat there, not sure what had just happened. There was a part of him that was relieved but another part that left him with a bad feeling. Her entire demeanor had shifted in a little more than an hour. She hadn’t given him any idea that she was planning to leave her position.

He shook it off, grabbed his briefcase and started out. Whatever her reason, he concluded, pushing through the glass door, it was probably for the best.

That last scene in the cafeteria was a little too dramatic for his taste. Meanwhile, he was going to have to find another assistant. He’d speak to the dean in the morning. Next time he was going to stick with his gut and get a guy.

Zoe hung up the phone with Sharlene. She’d booked her flight and said she was leaving her office early to do some shopping and go home and pack. They were all set to leave in the morning.

Zoe turned on her computer and reviewed the schedule. Mike would handle everything in her absence and assured her to take as much time as she needed. But the opening was in a week. She’d worked so hard to make it all happen and she wanted to be there. But if Nana Zora… Her mind wandered. She wouldn’t think about that. Nana was going to be fine.

“Just hold on ’til I get there, Nana,” she whispered.

“Did you talk to your mom again?” Sharlene asked as they took their seats.

“I called last night. She said Nana was resting, still asking for me.” She stuck her carry-on into the overhead compartment and slid into her window seat.

Sharlene followed suit. She grabbed Zoe’s hand. “It’s gonna be fine. Nana Zora is as tough as they come.” She offered a reassuring smile.

“I know. My heart says that Nana will outlive us all. But reality is a different story, Sharl. She’s been getting weaker year after year. She’s ninety.”

“Keep positive thoughts. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

The pilot’s easy drawl floated over the public address system. “Good morning. Welcome to Flight 1109 to New Orleans. I’m Captain Harris and I’ll be your pilot today. The temperature in The Big Easy is a sultry 98 degrees.” He chuckled. “And it’s still early folks. We’re third in line for takeoff, so sit back and relax and we’ll be up in the air and back down again before you know it. Attendants, please prepare the cabin for takeoff.”

Two blonde flight attendants strolled down the aisle, checking seat belts and telling passengers to put their seat backs upright. Moments later they were coasting down the runway then up in the air.

Zoe settled back and glanced out of the window watching the city of Atlanta grow smaller in the distance until the plane rose above the clouds and the earth disappeared.

“Speaking of imagination. I saw him,” Zoe said.

“Huh?”

She turned in her seat. “I saw him. Actually saw him. Yesterday.”

“What? Him, him? The him? Where? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was yesterday morning and—”

“Yesterday!”

“Would you keep your voice down?” she hissed from between her teeth.

Sharlene looked around. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she hissed right back.

“There was so much going on and I guess I forgot.” But she hadn’t forgotten. Between worrying about her grandmother and preparing for her trip, her mind was on the man she’d met on 9th Street. She’d tried to convince herself that it was the stress of the moment, her feeling light-headed from the smoke. But her spirit told her differently and so did the dream she’d had. This time, her suitor, her lover was not a faceless man who teased and taunted her. It was him.

“So are you going to tell me what the hell happened or sit there staring with that silly grin on your face?”

Zoe blinked away the images and her gaze settled on Sharlene’s face, with her lemon-puckered lips.

“Yesterday,” she began. “I decided to walk to work…”

When she’d finished they both stared at each other in silence.

“Are you starting to believe, even just a little?” Sharlene asked.

Zoe breathed deeply. “I don’t know what to believe. I mean, it’s all so crazy, you know?” She gave a little laugh. “Destiny and legacy, and the man of your dreams come to life. Crazy.” She reclined in her seat and stared out at the clouds. She propped her elbow on the armrest and pressed her fist to her mouth. “Crazy,” she whispered.

Barely an hour later, flight 1109 was taxiing on the tarmac at Louis Armstrong International Airport.

“My mother said she’d meet us at baggage claim,” Zoe said as they rode the escalator to the lower level.

“Mom still driving that big old Caddie?” Sharlene teased.

Zoe laughed. “You know she’s not letting that thing go.”

“How much gas do you think that bus guzzles?”

“Enough to pay off the national debt, especially at these prices.”

“I know that’s right.”

“There she is. Ma!” Zoe called out and waved catching Miraya’s attention.

At fifty-two, Miraya Beaumont was a stunning woman. She’d been mistaken for Lena Horne more times than she could count and still carried herself like the star she longed to be. Miraya had a string of suitors a mile long. And although she wasn’t touring the country like she once did, she still sang in the lounges in the French Quarter.

Miraya took off her dark glasses and waved back.

Zoe instantly saw the heaviness in her mother’s wide eyes and the waning of her smile. Her heart raced.

“Mom.” She embraced her mother and realized for the first time how petite her mother was, fragile almost. Had she always been this thin? When had she seen her last—five, six months? She held her a moment longer then kissed her cheek. She stepped back and held her mother at arms length, searched her eyes. “Nana?”

Miraya’s smile was tight. “She’s hanging on.” She took Sharlene’s hand. “Good to see you, Sharl. It’s been too long.” She pulled her into an embrace. “How did you manage to get on a flight with such short notice?”

“I heard my family needed me,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks for coming,” she said softly. “Well, come on. Let’s get you girls to the house and fix some breakfast. I know they didn’t feed you on the plane.”

They walked through the terminal to the airport garage arm in arm.

The short ride from the airport was spent in light conversation, and on the slow progress of rebuilding the Lower Ninth Ward. Much of the area had still not been rebuilt, as many residents had moved away along with their hopes of returning slowly fading.

Miraya pulled onto their street in the Garden District. Even in the early morning heat, neighbors were out and about, sweeping front porches or doing yard work, mostly because it was too hot to work as the day progressed.

“There’s Ms. Ella,” Zoe said, pointing to the octogenarian who knew everything about everybody on the street.

“The whole neighborhood will know you’re home before the clock strikes nine,” Sharlene teased.

“Be nice, girls,” Miraya playfully warned as she pulled up and parked in front of the house.

The trio got out and Zoe and Sharlene took their bags from the trunk. “’Morning, Ms. Ella,” they chorused and waved.

Ms. Ella pretended that she hadn’t spotted them from the moment the big blue caddy came onto the street and craned her neck. She gave a delicate wave. “That you, Zoe?”