Donna Hill - Legacy of Love

She felt light-headed and tired as if she’d been on a long journey. Maybe she had, she thought as she walked past her aunts in a daze. Her mother’s and Sharlene’s curious gazes followed her as she walked out the front door and sat on the porch steps.

She looked off, above the treetops that stood guard at the entrance to the house where her family lived.

The rational, analytic side of her, the part of her brain that dealt with facts and science, still struggled with the Beaumont part of her—the side that wanted to embrace the possibility of something spiritual. And maybe if she did, love would finally fill her life.

“Hey, you okay?”

Zoe glanced behind her. Sharlene stood in the doorway.

She gave a short mirthless laugh. “I don’t know. I guess so.”

Sharlene stepped out and sat beside Zoe. She put her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Did you at least have a good talk with Nana?”

“Nana did all the talking and she told me to go home and get ready.” She twisted the end of her hair between her fingers. “This time I listened.” She sighed. “I want to believe that there is someone out there that’s just for me. But at the same time, I don’t want to be the one responsible for my family’s happiness. I don’t want to have their future in my hands. I’ve seen what relationships have done to my family. Every one of them has loved and lost, tragically. Knowing that and witnessing their pain, I don’t want it to be me.” She looked at Sharlene, hoping to find understanding in her eyes.

Sharlene rested her head against Zoe’s. “It won’t be you, girl,” she softly assured.

“Promise.”

Sharlene pursed her lips and wished that she could promise happiness for her friend.

Jackson strode out of Dean McRae’s office more annoyed than when he’d walked in. The dean was a hundred years old if he was a day. He was hard of hearing and always wanted to talk about everything that was completely unrelated to the issue at hand. Jackson had spent the past half hour listening to Dean MacRae ramble on about growing up in Mississippi instead of what he’d come to discuss—getting a new teaching assistant.

“Hey, Jackson. What’s up, man?”

Jackson slowed as Levi caught up with him in the hallway. “Hey. Just left McRae’s office.”

“Don’t tell me. He told you the story of how he walked five miles to school each way, up a hill and barefoot,” Levi said, chuckling.

Jackson grumbled. “Might as well have for all the good the conversation did me.”

Levi clapped him on the shoulder. “Go talk to his assistant, Frank Miller. He’s really the man behind the dean with the real power. McRae is a relic steeped in the college’s past who they refuse to get rid of.” He paused a moment. “Victoria ever say why she had to leave?”

“No. Just that it was personal.”

“You did say she was making you a little nervous,” Levi said as they walked into the teacher’s lounge. “Probably the best thing that could’ve happened.”

“Yeah,” he muttered and poured a cup of coffee.

“You okay, man? You seem a little out of it.” Levi reached for the milk.

“Mmm. A little tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Levi muttered knowingly. “Oh, I see.”

Jackson gave him a look. “It’s not what you think.”

“You trying to tell me that you didn’t sleep last night and it wasn’t because a beautiful, sexy woman was keeping you up?”

“Right.” Jackson started pouring sugar in his coffee. It was only partially true, he thought as he took a sip. It was a woman that kept him up—the woman from the day of the fire. Since he’d seen her and lost sight of her, he’d been driving himself crazy imagining that he saw her on every corner and in the faces of every woman who crossed his path in Atlanta. It had been a week and she was nowhere to be found.

“Got any plans for the weekend?” Levi leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee.

“I’m taking two of my classes to the opening at the High Museum tonight. Remember?”

Levi snapped his fingers. “Yeah, right. I’ve been so bogged down with this dissertation that I totally forgot. Mind if I tag along?”

Jackson grinned. “Nah, Not at all. We plan to meet in front of the humanities building at six, and then head over.”

Levi nodded. “If I’m not out front, I’ll meet you there. Maybe I’ll get lucky and bring a date.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I heard it’s supposed to be a big opening, reporters, a fancy reception—the works.” He tossed back the last of his coffee.

“It’s kind of a big deal to finally get those statues here. I’m anxious to see them up close myself.” He put his empty cup in the sink.

“You believe in all that mumbo jumbo about the statues?”

Jackson’s brows flickered. “You mean all that fertility stuff?”

Levi nodded. “Yeah.”

Jackson shrugged. “Who knows? I guess people can be convinced of anything if you tell the same story often enough.” Like he was becoming convinced about his destiny, he thought. Not so much by the things he had been told, but by the visions, the dreams and the inexplicable reasons that brought him to Atlanta. “Anything is possible,” he murmured.

The museum was closed for the day in preparation for the exhibit opening and reception later that evening. The maintenance crew was in full force polishing and shining every surface in the massive building.

“Right, three cases,” Zoe replied, as she held the phone. She massaged her temples. Her head was pounding. She hadn’t slept a wink and exhaustion weighed heavily on her lids. “Yes, I need them here no later than noon. They should have been here yesterday. Thank you. Noon.” She hung up the phone and rested her head in her hands.

Dealing with the wine delivery was only the third thing on her list of more than a dozen things on her checklist to take care of in the next few hours. The caterer had delivered the wrong tables and set-up and had to return them to the catering hall and deliver the right set-up and food in only a few hours. Two of her staff had called in sick with the flu, and Mike and Linda had gotten into a shouting match in the inventory room. She’d had to send Linda out on a break and have a heart-to-heart with Mike.

She’d never felt so unnerved and rattled before. Everything seemed to be making her jumpy, taking on mammoth proportions. She’d hosted plenty of museum opening receptions before, so that wasn’t it. Drawing in a deep breath she could actually feel her insides flutter.

It had been like that for the entire week since she’d returned from New Orleans. She couldn’t shake off her thoughts about the things her grandmother had confided in her. If anything, her feelings about what she’d been told about her family and her own future had only intensified.

She could almost say his name now. It hung on the tip of her tongue, but was always just out of reach. His scent often teased her, surprising her with its suddenness, especially in strange places like when she opened her closet door or walked into an empty room, or leafed through the pages of a novel.

He’s already here. The prophecy echoed in her ear and Zoe could no longer deny it. One of the few things she was certain of, was that the man she saw on the day of the fire was her destiny—the key that would unlock the past and free the Beaumont family from generations of heartache. Why hadn’t she asked him his name? How would she ever find him again?

The short rap on her partially opened door pulled her back to reality. Mike stood in the doorway.

Zoe pushed out a breath. “Yes?”

“Mind if I come in?”

“Actually, I do, but come in anyway.”