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Authors: Donna Hill

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Chapter 28

L
evi, Michelle and Shay had returned to the hotel. The band was packed up and gone. The ladies from the church had packed up the leftover food to be given to the shelters and the homeless that visited the soup kitchen. The rental company would pick up the table and chairs in the morning. Nana and Zoe's aunts and mother had gone up to bed. Sharlene and Ray decided that the night was still young and drove into the Quarter. Jackson and Zoe sat together on the porch steps reveling in the magnificent day.

“What a day,” Jackson said softly.

“Yes, it was.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Beautiful night for a beautiful woman.”

Zoe sighed in utter contentment.

“Is that one of the guest houses you were talking about?” he asked, pointing to a small structure at the end of the property.

“Yeah, the former slave quarters. You want to see it?”

“Sure.” He helped her to her feet.

“I haven't been in here in years,” she said. “I have no idea what kind of shape it's in.” She tugged on the door and it jerked open.

It was pitch dark inside. Zoe felt around for where she remembered the light to be and the room was bathed in soft light. Much to their surprise the room was in pristine condition. A double bed and dresser were the main pieces with two wing chairs against one wall. One narrow window looked out on the main house. There was a fireplace that had long been closed off.

Jackson walked around the small space feeling a connection that he couldn't explain. Although he knew he'd never been here before, if felt as if he had.

“There's something I need to talk to you about,” Zoe said.

Jackson pulled back from the strange feelings and focused on Zoe. “Sure. What is it?”

Zoe sat down in one of the chairs. She patted the seat of the other. “There's so much,” she began as he sat down. “I don't know where to start.”

“Wherever you want.”

“I know my father's name…” She told him about her mother's confession and the reason why she'd done what she did.

He took her hand. “How do you feel about what your mother did?” he asked gently.

She drew in a long breath. “I understand. It still hurts, but I understand. What it helped me to realize is that even when you love someone you can't make the decision on how they will love you back. That's why I'm telling you about the offer that the Guggenheim presented to me…”

Jackson listened, listened in between the words. When she'd finished she all but held her breath waiting to hear what Jackson had to say.

“I'm not going to make it easy for you,” he said looking deep into her eyes. He dug in his inside jacket pocket and took out a small midnight blue velvet box, a perfect match to her dress.

Zoe gasped.

Jackson took her hand. “Marry me, Zoe. You are my past, my present and my future. I've spent my life becoming the man I am so that I can be the man you need. I don't care if you take a job in New York or the farthest reaches of the globe. We can do it together. Say yes, Zoe. Tell me you love me and say yes.”

Her throat was so tight she could barely get the words out. “Yes, yes, I'll marry you. I'll marry you and love you for the rest of my life…just like I've always done.”

He lifted the ring from its cushion and slowly slipped it onto her finger. It sparkled in the moonlight.

She reached for him while he reached for her and their mouths found each other in a kiss so sweet that it was that first kiss more than century ago, shared under the thatched roof beneath a summer's night sky, splashed with thousands of pinpoints of light. And the village rejoiced in their union.

And as Zoe gave herself willingly, with her heart and soul opened to Jackson, she fully understood her legacy. This was the reincarnation of the love of her ancestor Zinzi and his ancestor Etu. A love so strong that neither time nor death nor separation could stop their love. They would find it again.

Zoe would not make the choice of her mother, her grandmother and her aunts who had chosen not to give love a chance.

And the ancestors rejoiced at last.

Epilogue

Z
oe and Jackson sat on the front porch of the Beaumont house. The summer breeze was filled with the scent of jasmine and a summer storm that hovered just beyond the horizon.

Zoe rocked Mikai on her lap and Jackson sung a lullaby to his twin sister, Mikayla. They were born nine months to the day of Zoe's thirtieth birthday. And on that night that they were conceived, the legacy was fulfilled and the curse of unfulfilled love was finally broken.

In the background, Zoe's mother was singing a Billie Holiday number and preparing to go out to dinner with that nice man Mr. Clarke that had been eyeing her for years. They'd been seeing each other
for nearly six months now and her mother actually seemed happy.

Zoe had found her father. He lived in Nashville and she and Jackson were making plans to visit. She'd decided against the job in New York and as soon as her babies were old enough she planned to open a small art gallery in town. Jackson was teaching at the University and loved being back home again.

Aunt Fern and Aunt Flo were tending the garden, pulling weeds with Lucas Beniot and Randolph Porter, two men from the church that had been hanging around for a while now. Fern and Flo giggled like schoolgirls as Lucas and Randolph showed them the right way to pull weeds.

Nana lived long enough to see Zoe marry Jackson and hold her great-grandbabies. But she was never far. Her spirit was in all of them. And as soon as Makai and Mikalya were old enough, Zoe would tell them of their rich history and about the power of love that could overcome all obstacles. And she was certain that one day they would both find the love that she'd found with Jackson.

Jackson turned to his wife. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said. “I've always known.”

LEGACY OF LOVE

ISBN: 978-1-4592-1399-9

Copyright © 2011 by Donna Hill

All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Kimani Press, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Toronto, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

® and TM are trademarks. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and/or other countries.

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