“Your birthday is soon.”
“Yes. Three months.”
“Seventy-eight days.”
Zoe lowered her head and laughed. Only her grandmother knew exactly how many days until her thirtieth birthday. “Okay, seventy-eight days.” She tucked her feet under her and let her gaze travel slowly over the history of her grandmother’s face—from the thick silvery hair that hung in two braids down her back, her high forehead, thin arching brows, her wide, almond-shaped, all-knowing eyes, to the aquiline nose, high cheekbones and full lips. Zora Beaumont was still a stunning woman.
“You don’t have much time. He’s already here.”
Zoe’s pulse began to race.
“Isn’t he?” Zora leaned forward.
“I…”
“You’ve seen him in your dreams.” She smiled and looked off toward the garden. “It’s how it begins you know. It happened with my mother and with me. It skipped right over my girls. But not you,” she said, her voice taking on an air of storytelling. “You are the one. The one, Zoe.”
Zoe leaned forward and clasped her grandmother’s hands. “The one to do what, Nana?”
“Fulfill the legacy, Zoe. Bring happiness back to the Beaumont women. He’s been searching for you, too.”
A shiver ran through her and the fine hairs on her arms tingled. “What do you mean he’s been searching for me?” Her breath quickened.
Zora smiled. “I want you to open your mind and listen to me.”
Zoe slowly nodded her head.
Zoe gently closed the bedroom door so as not to disturb her grandmother. She had been numbed by everything she’d heard. Although the story of the Beaumont women and the family legacy was something that had been talked about while she was growing up, she’d never really heard the story. She had listened to the tales of love between her great-great-grandparents who’d been torn apart and swore to find each other again. Zoe had always dismissed the stories as simply a romantic tragedy, one of many that happened during slavery. But she’d heard it this time, saw it in her mind, understood it and felt it in her heart in a way that changed her.
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.
Chapter 6
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