Everything is You. Donna Hill
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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 this way, ma’am.”
“First time to Baton Rouge?” the young man asked once they were aboard the elevator.
“No. But it’s my first time back in a number of years.”
“Are you here for the wedding? The city has been buzzing about it for weeks.”
“Wedding?”
“Yes, one of Senator Lawson’s daughters is getting married tomorrow. A real big event from what I’m hearing.” He frowned a moment. “Are you related?”
Jacqueline quickly shook her head. “No. Just coincidence.”
“My apologies. Same name and all.”
“Hmm, I get that a lot,” she murmured.
The bell tinged and the doors slid open giving her the perfect escape from his question. The least everyone knew about her the better. Coming back to her hometown was hard enough. She didn’t want to make any unnecessary connection between herself and the fabled Lawson family.
John wheeled the cart down the carpeted hall to room 1012. Jacqueline used her key and opened the door to pure luxury. The room opened onto a sprawling living space, fully furnished with a sleek, copper-toned couch, matching love seat and chair and a footstool. Low, glass-and-wood tables held blooming flora in bursting colors of orange, teal blue and white. The back wall was a window of glass that looked out onto the sprawling city. A full service bar was to the right, and beyond was a kitchen fit for a chef.
“Should I put these in the bedroom?”
“Yes,