Legacy of Love (6 page)

He wanted to ask when he could see her again, but he could feel the testosterone exuding from Mike in waves and wondered if their relationship went beyond work.

“Professor! Professor, over here,” one of his students called out and waved him over to where the group had assembled.

“Duty calls.”

“Yes, it does. Enjoy your evening,” Zoe said and walked off with Mike.

Jackson watched her until she was hidden by the crowd then he went to join his students. He knew where she was now. That was all that mattered.
Zoe Beaumont
.

Z
oe felt like she was disconnected from her body, yet every fiber of her being seemed more alive than ever before. Colors were more vivid. The lights were brighter. She could hear the air move through the building. There was an inexplicable happiness inside of her that made her want to weep with joy and dance to silent music.

She wasn't even sure what Chairman Lang was saying to her. She simply smiled and nodded at what she thought were all the appropriate places. But her mind was with Jackson Treme. That's what she wanted to tell everyone. Jackson Treme. He wasn't a dream. He was real. He was flesh and blood and gorgeous and…

“Ms. Beaumont…”

Zoe blinked, snapping out of her daydream and focused on Chairman Lang. She smiled sweetly.

“What do you think about that?” David Zuckerman, a board member from New York asked.

“Think about that…?”

“Yes. The Guggenheim?”

She was at a total loss. “I'm sorry. I have so much on my mind. Can you repeat that?”

He cleared his throat and looked at her askance. “As I was saying, if tonight's results are as spectacular as we believe they are, we'd like you to spend three months in New York at the Guggenheim to mount a fall show.”

She gave a quick shake of her head. “Excuse me?”

“It's the opportunity of a lifetime,” Phil Harris, one of the High's board members, said.

“But…”

Lang held up his hand and chuckled. “I know it's a lot to take in. You wouldn't have to leave right away, of course. Think about it and we'll talk in a week or so.”

Talk in a week or so?
She was speechless. How did the conversation go from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye?

In a daze, she got up from her seat and glanced around the room at the smiling faces. Did they just offer her a job at the Guggenheim?

“Congratulations,” Lang said enthusiastically.

“Enjoy your evening,” she murmured and walked away. She stepped into the corridor and Mike was there waiting.

“Everything cool? You look shaken.”

“Yes, everything is fine,” she said in a faraway voice and kept walking. It was a dream assignment. She should be ecstatic. If this had been any other time, she would be.
Now
. Why now?

She slowly walked down the wide, winding staircase and stood for a moment looking out at the activity below. She wouldn't begin to guess how many people had attended tonight's event. And from where she stood, the board was right, it was a success and they had her and her team to thank. She continued down the stairs, her thoughts a jumbled mess that shuffled back and forth between tonight's event, her family, her grandmother, meeting Jackson and now the Guggenheim Museum. She couldn't think straight. She needed some space, some quiet and some time to think and sort things out.

The reception would be over in an hour. Sharlene had promised to meet up in Zoe's office at the end of the night. Sharl was the only person she could talk to…about everything.

 

Jackson lifted Shay from the backseat of the Explorer and carried her into the house. Michelle was resting on the couch and jumped up when they came through the door. She hurried over to him.

“I'll take her.”

“No, she's too heavy for you to carry her up the stairs.”

“Fine, but I do it all the time.”

She followed them upstairs and once Jackson had put Shay on the bed, Michelle gently began to get her daughter undressed, miraculously completing the task without waking her.

“Can you hand me her nightgown? It's on the chair.”

Jackson walked to the corner of the bedroom and picked up the pink nightgown. Shay's favorite cartoon character,
Dora the Explorer,
was emblazoned on the front. Jackson smiled then handed Michelle the gown.

“I met her tonight.”

Michelle stopped what she was doing and whipped her head in Jackson's direction. “What?” she said in a hot whisper. Her eyes were wide with surprise. “The same woman you told me about from the day of the fire?”

Jackson nodded and leaned against the dresser. “Her name is Zoe Beaumont. She's the curator at the museum.”

Michelle gently lifted her daughter's head, slid the gown over it and then put her arms through the sleeves. She put Shay under the covers and gave her a tender kiss good-night.

Shay stirred then settled under the light blanket.
Michelle eased off the bed and she and Jackson tiptoed out.

She took his hand and looked up into his eyes. “Are you sure?” she asked in an urgent whisper.

He nodded. “Yes, I am.”

She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth, her own troubles forgotten. “Tell me. Tell me everything. What's she like? Is she cute?”

Jackson tossed his head back and laughed. “Very cute. Come on downstairs. I'll fix us a drink.”

They held hands going down the stairs just like they used to do when they were kids, and the realization simultaneously hit them. They looked at each other and chuckled.

“I have some raspberry rum,” said Jackson.

“Add a little coke and some ice and I'm good.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Michelle curled up in the side chair. “Soooo, what is she like?”

Jackson handed Michelle her drink then sat down opposite her on the couch. “She's stunning for starters.”

Michelle grinned. “Of course you would say that. What else?”

“Well, it's kind of hard to describe. She's…” He trailed off, then frowned for a moment searching for the right words. “She's everything. That's the only way I can put it.” He looked at his sister, hoping that she would understand what he couldn't explain. “Her voice. Her eyes. Her spirit.” How could he put
into words that someone whom he'd only imagined to be real actually was?

“When are you going to see her again?”

He sipped his drink. “We didn't get that far.”

“Huh?”

“Let me start from the beginning.” He told her about the feeling he had at the museum and carefully told her about losing Shay and that it was Zoe who found her.

Her mouth opened then closed it. “Shay got lost?” she finally said.

“Sis, I'm sorry. It happened so fast. One minute she was there and then she wasn't. I…”

“It's okay. She's safe. She wasn't hurt. That's what's important.” She paused a moment. “You know how Grandma used to always say that everything happens for a reason?”

“Yeah?”

She let out a slow breath. “As awful as my reason for being here is, maybe we were supposed to be here today. Shay was supposed to get lost so that you two could find each other.” Her eyes filled and she turned her head away. She pressed her fist to her mouth.

“Mikki…” He sprung up from his seat and squeezed in beside her in the chair. He put his arm around her and pulled her close.

“I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “You should be celebrating.” She rested her head against his chest and he held her as she cried.

“You are what's important right now. And it's going to be all right.”

“I can't stay here forever.” She sniffed. “Shay has school.” Her body shook. “I just can't go back there, Jack. I can't.” She buried her face in his shirt. “What am I going to do?” She snorted a derisive chuckle. “At least I don't have to worry about a job.” She sniffed hard and swiped at her wet eyes. “Travis made sure
his
wife didn't have to work. Biggest mistake I made other than marrying him was not holding on to some part of my identity.” Her chest heaved. “I was just Travis Holder's wife and Shay's mommy.” She cried harder.

“Shh. It's going to be okay. You are a helluva lot more than that bastard's wife and Shay's mother. You're my sister. That's what matters,” he said in a teasing tone hoping to get her to smile.

She glanced up through tear-filled eyes and a smile crept across her mouth. She playfully socked him in the arm. “See what I mean? There's no me.”

“There's plenty of you,” he said seriously. “Look, we have the weekend to come up with a plan. On Monday, you're going to call Shay's school and tell them that there was a family emergency and she will be out for a few days. We'll take it from there. One day at a time.”

Michelle sighed heavily and rested against her brother. “All right,” she whispered.

Jackson leaned his head against the back of the couch and momentarily closed his eyes. This has
been a day for the record books, he thought as he gently rocked his sister in his arms. First it was Victoria's cryptic bombshell, then Michelle showing up with her horrible news and then meeting Zoe Beaumont. It was almost too much to process. But he had to.

He didn't know who had it in for him at the college or why. Travis had an ass-whipping coming and Carla… Well, like his grandmother always said, God don't like ugly. Her day was sure to come. He gritted his teeth. Then there was Zoe. In the midst of all the turmoil and confusion she was the calm, the peace amid the storm. When he was with her, even for that short period of time, his mind and his spirit were at rest, as if he'd come home after a long journey. He didn't know how it was possible to feel that strongly about someone that you barely knew. But he
did
know her. A part of him knew her. He had no idea how or why, just that it was a truth that he accepted without question. Did Zoe feel the same connection?

 

“Wait, wait, tell me again,” Sharlene squealed with excitement. “You find this little girl and it's his niece? O-M-G.” She shook her head in amazement. “You know this is fate, girl, no two ways about it. And you can kick all that logic crap of yours out of the window, 'cause there is no explaining this.”

Zoe hugged herself and scooted to the corner of the couch. “I'm really finding it hard to stick to my
guns. I mean it's all so surreal.” She reached for her glass of iced tea from the coffee table. “But what if it is true, that someone, some cosmic force or family legacy really brought us together. And what if we fall for each other and what if it doesn't work out, just like all the others? What then?”

“Zee, you can't think like that. Remember what Nana said. You're
the one,
girl, but you have to believe.”

Zoe closed her eyes for a minute. She didn't know what to believe. The struggle in her mind still raged—logic versus the inexplicable. She had to admit that the instant she'd laid eyes on Jackson Treme, a trip wire went off inside her. There was a connection, a vibe, a sense of awareness that she had no way of explaining. And if she were to totally buy into the family lore, and what was expected of her, she could believe that he was
the one
who'd been sent to her. On the other hand it could be something as simple as good, old-fashioned lust.

Sharlene sipped her drink then put it down on the table. She leaned forward. “Tell me the story again.”

“Sharl…” Zoe shook her head and smiled. “How many times have you heard the legend?”

“It doesn't matter,” she said with a grin. “Come on. It's girl's night. If we were guys we'd been telling ghost stories or fish tales or trying to one-up each other's bedpost notches.”

They both burst out laughing.

“All right, all right.”

Sharlene settled back. She'd been hearing bits and pieces of the Beaumont legacy since she was a little girl. On more occasions than she could count, she would sit at the Beaumont kitchen table listening to Aunt Fern or Aunt Flo tell stories about their many loves, failed marriages and the reasons why. Or she'd become enthralled by Zoe's fabulous mother when she dressed up in all her fancy clothes to sing at a nightclub or hurry out to a waiting car that took her who knows where for months on end. But she never grew tired of the stories, the magic and mystery of it all.

“My great-great grandmother and grandfather were captured during a raid on their village in the ancient city of Djenne in Mali, West Africa,” Zoe began in that sultry storytelling voice that Sharlene loved. “My great-great grandmother, Zinzi, was the conjure woman of the village. Everyone came to her with their problems. After she and my great-great-grandfather were taken and enslaved, the village slowly died off.” She drew in a breath. “At least that's what Nana said. The village was wiped out. When they were brought to Louisiana, they were separated and sold off at auction. Nana said Zinzi's wails could be heard up and down the Mississippi. She was sold to Ezekiel Beaumont and she never saw her husband, Etu, again. The way the story goes, Ezekiel became so consumed by Zinzi that he put her up to live in his house, with his wife.
He even bought her freedom. Zinzi had three children by him—all girls. Nana said that Zinzi put a spell on him. And when he died, he didn't leave his wife a thing. He left it all to Zinzi and her daughters—the land, the house, all his money and even the servants who still remained after the Civil War.

“She was a wealthy woman. But she never got over losing Etu. She still cried for him and some nights she could be seen at the top of the hill just wandering around looking for her husband. One morning, her oldest daughter, Willa, found her up on the hill, slumped against the tree. She had a piece of cloth clutched in her hand. She'd often told her daughters it was the only thing she had left of her husband.”

Zoe drew in a long breath and gave her head a quick shake, coming back to the here and now. She turned her faraway gaze toward Sharlene, who was entranced.

“So sad and beautiful,” Sharlene murmured.

“Hmm. And every Beaumont woman since then has had nothing but heartache. All of their loves end in tragedy.”

“It's like you all are being punished over and over again. But why? I never understood that.”

“Neither did I until Nana told me on my last visit.”

Sharlene leaned forward. “Well…what is it?”