Читать книгу Everything is You - Donna Hill - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Just as Jacqueline was getting settled, there was a knock at her door. She tied the belt around her robe and went to the door. The bellhop had her box.

“Your package, Ms. Lawson.”

She reached for it.

“I can put it inside for you.”

“Oh, of course.” She stepped aside to let him pass. “You can put it right there on that table.”

He soundlessly crossed the room and gingerly set the large box on the glass-and-wood table.

“Thank you,” she said, walking him to the door. She grabbed her purse took out her wallet and pressed a five dollar bill into his hand.

“Enjoy your stay, Ms. Lawson,” he said with a smile of appreciation.

This could get expensive. She closed the door behind him and walked over to where he’d left the box. She tore off the packing tape and tucked inside the foam balls and plastic was the iconic blue Tiffany box. Gingerly she untied the ribbon from around the box and lifted the cover. The stunning crystal bowl sparkled inside. She checked it for cracks and then closed the lid and retied the ribbon.

For a moment she paused with her hands on the box. The realization that she would see her family in less than twenty-four hours suddenly hit her. She did miss her nieces and nephews. It had been so long and the gap had only widened during the ensuing years of their estrangement. As for her brother, well that was a different story. She often wondered if he thought about her at all. And her nephew Maurice, David’s son, no one, not even she had heard from him in ages. She worried about Maurice the most. He’d been devastated by his father’s death. She had her reasons for turning away from her family but he did, as well.

A sudden wave of dizziness seized her and she gripped the edge of the table for support. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. The room seemed to shift then slowly settled. Jacqueline opened her eyes. In an instant the rest of what her life would be like flashed through her head like a bad “B” movie. This visit to her family was as much an extension of the olive branch as it was a goodbye. She didn’t want their pity, sympathy or help. But she did want to see them again, as she was now, not how she would eventually become.

Gathering her strength she went into her bedroom for a nap when her cell phone rang. She walked over to the nightstand and picked up the phone. Raymond’s name was illuminated on the face of the phone.

She drew in a sobering breath and touched the talk icon. “Hi!” she said, forcing cheer into her voice. She sat down on the side of the bed.

“Hey, babe.”

The timbre of his voice, as always, rolled through her in warm waves.

“How was your flight?”

“Long,” he said with a chuckle. “But it’s just a layover. The second leg of the flight is in another hour. Wish you were here.”

“You’ll be there and settled in no time,” she said, sidestepping his comment.

“Yeah, as settled as I generally get on these things. The humidity here is stifling. I could take ten showers and it would never be enough. How about you? What were you doing? I was hoping I didn’t wake you. This time difference always screws me up.”

“Oh, nothing. Playing with my new toys,” she said, the lies sliding across her tongue with ease.

He laughed. And she missed him. Her throat clenched. “So…what’s on your agenda?”

“Day after tomorrow, I meet with the ambassador at the embassy. He’s giving me an hour.”

His trip to Indonesia was to investigate and write an extensive piece of the evolving strife within the government. There had been several uprising of opposing forces within the past six months that had the United States wary of a possible coup. This assignment had Pulitzer written all over it.

“I’m hoping to gain access to some of the members of the opposition. The story has to be balanced. And of course, traveling throughout Jakarta and some of the outlying areas to get some insight from the people.”

“Just be careful, Ray,” she said with more emotion than she intended.

“Of course.” He paused. “Are you all right? You sound funny.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” She swallowed.

“I know you don’t like it when I question you, but I’ve been worried about you, J. I hated to leave.”

She lowered her head. She so wanted to tell him, to unburden her soul, pour out her fears and have him wrap his arms around her and tell her that he would make everything all right. But she would not condemn him to the life that was on the horizon for her. That’s not what you did to someone that you loved.

“You worry entirely too much.”

“I’m supposed to.”

Her bottom lip trembled. She had to get off the phone or she was certain she would break down. “I know you have to be exhausted.”

He yawned as if on cue. “I am. Twenty-four hours flying across time zones are for men half my age,” he joked.

Jacqueline laughed. “You love it. You always have. And you look kinda good for your age.”

“Very funny. But,” he yawned again, “if I don’t get some sleep I’m going to feel like seventy-six instead of thirty-six.”

“Then get some rest when you can. We can talk when you get to your hotel.”

“I will and we will.”

“Have a good meeting with the Ambassador.”

“Thanks. Night babe.”

“Bye,” she whispered. She pressed the phone to her chest, wanting to hold him close to her for a moment more before she set the phone down on the nightstand. It was the right thing to do, she reminded herself, the only thing to do.

She set her phone on vibrate and placed it on the nightstand then stretched out on the bed. Within moments, sleep held her in its grasp.

When her eyes flickered open hours later the room was bathed in the glow of the setting sun. She blinked, confused. Nothing looked familiar. By degrees, her sense of place returned. She was in Baton Rouge. Home.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position and glanced around her space. Her reality crashed around her. Lightly she shook her head and pushed up from the side of the bed. She picked up her cell phone to discover that Traci called while she was asleep. She listened to the voice message and then called her back.

The phone rang several times before Traci answered in a rushed voice.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jacqueline said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a little crazed. The movers are here.”

Jacqueline’s heart thumped. “Any problems?”

“No, just trying to make sure they don’t break anything while they pack.” She blew out a breath. “How was the flight?”

“Uneventful. Listen, Traci, I know I’m asking a lot from you and I know how much you’re against this. I want you to know I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

Traci was silent for a moment, and Jacqueline listened to the sound of strange male voices in her soon-to-be vacated condo.

“I know you do,” she finally said. “Everything okay on your end?”

“Yeah. I woke up from a nap and for a minute I didn’t have a clue where I was,” she said, pushing lightness into her voice.

“I better get back to the movers. I’ll…uh, call you.”

Jacqueline blinked back the sting of tears in her eyes. “Okay. And Traci…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re my sister, J. And…I would do anything for you. You know that.”

“I know. We’ll talk later.” She disconnected the call and sat perfectly still for several moments. A chapter of her life was coming to an end. When she’d purchased the L.A. condo she was sure that she had finally put down roots, that she would have a place to call home when she returned from her innumerable trips around the world. She’d rented a small apartment in New York, which is where she would go when she left Baton Rouge after the wedding. Some of the best doctors in the world that specialized in treating her condition were in New York. Although there wasn’t much more that could be done, save for the one alternative she refused to pursue, they were making strides every day. Strides equaled hope.

Resolved, she set the phone down, reached for the remote, turned on the television and surfed to CNN. There was the usual spate of uprisings around the world: bombings, fire, famine and government coups. Newscasters were never at a loss for tragedy to feed the public. And then her brother’s image was on the screen as he alighted from his car in front of the Lawson mansion.

“Senator Branford Lawson has returned to his roots, and not just for a good home-cooked meal but for the wedding of his daughter Dominique, twin sister to Desiree who was married last year. The nuptials are set for tomorrow afternoon and all of the Who’s Who of Louisiana and beyond will be in attendance. Desiree Lawson will marry Spence Hampton. Many of you may remember the eldest sister Lee Ann Lawson married Jr. Senator Preston Graham several years ago. And of course there is perennial bachelor and bad boy of the family, Rafe Lawson, and the youngest Lawson, Justin, who recently passed the bar. There will be no press at the event, but we do hope that the Camelot family of the South will share some of the pictures with us. In other news…”

Jacqueline released a sigh of relief. If she thought for a moment that the lure of the Lawson spotlight had dimmed at all, that idea was out of the window. At least she didn’t have to worry about the press tomorrow.