“Tomorrow afternoon at two.”
A waitress stopped at the table and took Traci’s drink order.
“How do you think it will go?”
She shrugged her right shoulder. “I don’t know,” she said on a breath. “I haven’t spoken to my brother in ten years. I haven’t seen my nieces and nephews in almost as long. I missed Lee Ann’s wedding.” She slowly turned her glass around on the table. “I was in the Sudan or somewhere. I don’t even remember. But I don’t want to miss Desi’s. Who knows when…if I’ll get to see any of them again.”
Traci studied her for a moment. “Are you going to tell Branford what’s going on?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Traci clasped her hands together on top of the table. “He’s your brother, J. Your flesh and blood. And I’m going to be honest with you, because I’m your friend and I know you. You talk a good talk about not needing anyone, not needing your family and wanting to make your own way. But you do care and if you gave them half a chance I know that they care about you, too.” She tipped her head to the side and looked at Jacqueline through lowered lids. “If you really didn’t want to see them—and maybe even talk to your brother—you could have simply sent a gift.” She cocked an eyebrow to emphasize her point.
Jacqueline’s eyes flashed for a moment. She lowered her gaze and stared down into her glass.
“You’re going to have to stop traveling soon. You may not be able to work. What are you going to do then if you shut everyone out—especially Raymond?”
Jacqueline tossed back the rest of her drink. “Let’s order. I’m starved.” She set down her glass and then snapped open the menu.
Traci knew that look. The walls were up and there wasn’t anything that she would be able to do to get Jacqueline to talk short of bamboo shoots under her nails. Every fiber of her being wanted to shake some sense into Jacqueline, but knowing Jacquie, she’d cuss her out and make her pay for dinner. She may not be able to fix things between Jacquie and her family or her and Raymond. What she could do was be her friend.
“I think I’ll have the steak,” Traci said. “With sweet potato fries. They are the best this side of anywhere.”
Jacqueline smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Traci stared at her from across the table. “How are you feeling?”
She gave a slight shrug. “The same. Tired. Had a little dizzy spell yesterday, but I think it was from the heat.”
“What did the doctor say?”
Jacqueline blew out a breath. “The readings are the same. At least I’m no worse.”
“Hmm.”
The waitress returned and took their dinner orders and Traci’s request for a mango daiquiri.
“I need you to promise me something.”
“Sure.”
“No matter what happens do not say anything to Raymond. You have to promise me.”
Traci swallowed. “J…”
“Promise me,” she insisted.
“All right, all right. I promise.”
Jacqueline released a breath of relief. “Thank you. And you’ll oversee the movers, make sure that everything gets packed up?”
Traci blinked back tears. “Yes,” she murmured. “J, you don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t do this.”
“I’m not going to talk about it anymore. It’s done. Okay.”
They looked everywhere but each other in a strained silence.
“I can get off early and take you to the airport,” Traci finally said.
She shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the wedding, make nice and then start my…new life.”
Traci looked away for a moment. The enormity of what Jacqueline was planning to do had haunted her for months. She’d tried without success to talk Jacqueline out of this irrational upheaval of her life. But with each visit to the doctor, and medication that no longer worked, Jacqueline had made up her mind and was resolute that this was the only way. And Traci knew that Jacqueline’s will was a mighty force. If she could cut her family off, walk out on the one man in her life that had touched her soul, distance herself from her best friend, she was a woman whose determination and focus could not be shaken with pleas.
“What did you get Desiree for her wedding gift?”
“A cut crystal bowl from Tiffany. Not anything that you can use very often but it looks pretty.” She grinned. “I had it shipped to my hotel. Hopefully it arrived in one piece.”
“Anything would be better than shipping it on a passenger plane.”
“How ’bout that.” She gazed off. “It’ll be good to see everyone,” she said wistfully.
“I know they’ll be glad to see you.”
The waitress returned with Traci’s drink. She lifted it toward Jacqueline. “To a safe trip and a happy reunion.”
Jacqueline slowly lifted her glass and gently touched it to Traci’s. “To promises,” she said and took a sip.
* * *
The cab made the turn onto France Street and pulled up in front of The Belle of Baton Rouge. The driver climbed out to help Jacqueline with her bags just as a bellhop approached with a luggage cart.
“Welcome to The Belle,” he greeted and took the two Louis Vuitton suitcases from the driver and placed them on the cart.
Jacqueline paid the driver and included a generous tip. They’d battled airport traffic for more than an hour for a ride that should have taken half that time. But all during the trip the driver regaled her with lively stories of his family that included six children under the age of fifteen and a wife who, according to him, was a saint.
“Thank you so much. And happy anniversary.”
He grinned broadly, his nut-brown face glistening from the humidity. “Thank you,” he said with a slight bow of his bald head. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“So do I.” She followed the bellhop into the cool interior of the lobby. The heat and humidity were two things that she definitely did not miss about her hometown. She walked up to the check-in counter.
“Welcome to The Belle,” the young blonde reservationist greeted. “Your name?”
“Jacqueline Lawson.” She took off her wide shades and looked around at the plush lobby.
She clicked a few keys on the computer. “Yes, Ms. Lawson. We have you in the suite on the tenth floor for three nights. I will need your credit card for incidentals.”
“Sure.” She dug in her purse and took out her wallet, fished through her cards and handed over her American Express.
“How many keys will you be needing?”
“Just one, thanks.”
She processed her room key and handed it to Jacqueline along with her credit card. “If you’re ready, I can have someone take up your bags.”
“Yes, please.”
“John will help you with your bags. And you have a package. Would you like that brought up as well?”
“Thank you. Yes.”
The bellhop came up to the desk.
“Tenth floor,” the receptionist said. “Enjoy your stay.”
“Right