by Sable Hunter
“She thinks about you.” Tapping the second cross, Ma leaned close. “You found happiness.”
“I did.” Glory bowed her head, not sure she wanted to hear more. Her whole body was shaking.
“There’s a baby.” Wonder filled the old woman’s voice.
“Yes.” Glory began to cry, her heart was hurting now – a building, breathless ache.
“Oh, my child,” a sad whisper came from Ma Dyer’s lips.
“Stop!” Glory rose, covering her ears, afraid she’d hear another word. “Don’t!”
“You will walk through the valley of the shadow.”
Glory turned, hoping to outrun the specter of her death.
“Wait!” Ma staggered to her feet and grabbed Glory’s hand. “I see a healthy child.”
“You do?” Her choked words accompanied a sob. “Am…I dead?” Why was she asking? Who in their right mind wanted to know?
“I see you walking through a dark valley, but I also see you emerging into the sunshine holding a child. And at your side is a very handsome man.”
Glory couldn’t hear more. This woman couldn’t know these things. “Thank you, I have to go.” Even though the woman called after her, she turned and ran a few yards, then leaned on the fence, panting. What did this mean? Could she believe it? Glory didn’t know. She felt overwhelmed. Stunned. Hopeful. Terrified.
Catching her breath, she retraced her steps down Pirate’s Alley and emerged near the church.
“Glory!” Lily’s voice called to her. “Where have you been? I was getting worried.”
“Sorry.” She didn’t say more. Maybe she was the one who was hallucinating.
“Where did you go?” Lily asked.
“For a walk.” Glory couldn’t talk about what she’d just experienced. Not yet. Instead, she held the words close and pondered them in her heart.
*
Over the next two days, T filled his hours running from town to town, shoving his phone in strange people’s faces, and asking if they’d seen this woman. Hell, he was surprised he hadn’t been arrested yet, or shown up on the local news being described as: A crazy man has been seen in numerous towns across the state. He was eating poorly, wearing the same clothes, and unable to sleep because he was so worried about his girl. In general, Glory’s decision to walk off had destroyed him and T was realizing that more and more as each moment passed.
After another night in another Wal-mart parking lot, a loud knock on his truck window awoke T. “Hey mister!” He opened his eyes to see a young man with acne staring back at him. “You can’t be sleepin’ here mister.”
T waved the kid off and sat up in his seat, glancing at his watch. Seven o’clock. The last time he’d checked, it had been three in the morning. It wasn’t as much as he needed, but four hours of sleep was better than nothing.
Time to hit the road again.
After hours of checking leads, it seemed Glory had repeated her performance from Jeanerette in Baldwin, waiting tables for a few hours to help pay for a meal at a local diner. Feeling relieved he was still on the right track, T stopped at a gas station to fill up his tank. An old man came out to give him old-fashioned full service, cleaning his windshield, and checking his oil. “Where you headed to, young feller?”
“I’m looking for someone,” T volunteered, going through his regular spiel with the old-timer, showing him Glory’s photo. “I’m looking for her. Have you seen my Glory?”
“Yes, I have.” The old man held out his hand. “You must be T-Rex.”
T was surprised. “Yes, I am.”
“Tobin Field’s my name. I thought it might be you, Glory said you were a damn big Cajun.”
“Glory spoke of me?”
“Yea, she said she didn’t really expect you to show up, but if you did, I was to tell you she’s walking as slow as she can.”
The old man’s revelation stole T’s breath. “She said that?” He didn’t know if he wanted to curse or cry. “Dammit, Glory. I don’t guess she told you where she was headed.”
“Nope. I hope you find her, son.” Tobin took T’s money for the gas. “I’ll say a little prayer when I go to bed tonight.
“I appreciate it, sir,” T said before he left. Slamming his sore hand on the steering wheel, he winced. His frustration was growing by leaps and bounds. Everywhere he went, it seemed he was always two days behind Glory. If he hadn’t been such a bonehead and gotten drunk that night, he would’ve been right on her tail by now and probably even found her. Up one road and down another. Hours and hours. Miles and miles. T felt like he’d been driving forever.
The next stop he made was in Franklin, the largest town T had been in since New Iberia. Despite the size, it didn’t take him long to find information on his lost love. When he spoke to two women sitting on a bench waiting for a bus across from Hanson Memorial High School, they nodded their heads. “Why that looks like the gal who passed out at the Piggly Wiggly the other day,” one said.
T’s heart filled with dread. “Passed out?”
“Oh, yes. Poor girl. I was in there getting some stock to make soup. My Fred just loves my potato and leek soup. I make it every year for his birthday.” T listened politely while the woman rambled. “Last year he was in the hospital for bypass surgery.” She looked at her friend beside her on the bench. “You remember that, Louise. Don’t you?”
Louise crossed herself. “How could I forget? Getting that call from you just about scared the rest of the color out of my hair.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” T interjected, hoping to steer the conversation back to his Glory. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the girl at the grocery store?”
“The manager wanted to call an ambulance for her, but the young lady refused. Said she didn’t have money or insurance. Oh, that sure set Warren off.”
“Warren?”
“Warren manages the store. He wasn’t going to let her just walk off like that on her own. He only agreed to let her go without calling an ambulance if she called someone to come after her. I left after that happened, but I did see Warren at the pharmacy later that day and when I asked about the girl, he said that she called someone from New Orleans to come get her.”
T thanked the woman and went back to his truck. The front seat was littered with fast food wrappers, the floor with empty coffee cups. When he slid the key into the ignition to start it up, the engine didn’t turn over. “Not now.” He fired it again and got the same result. “Fucking piece of shit!” He was out of gas.
Slamming the door, T came around to the front of the truck and leaned on the hood. She’d put more distance between them. Hell, he’d been so close! At least someone had come for her. Glory wasn’t on foot anymore and she’d be sleeping in a bed.
Leaning on the hood, T felt exhausted and hopeless. She was sick. She was pregnant. Worst of all, Glory thought he didn’t love her and T had no way of getting in contact with her to tell her that wasn’t true. His heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. In desperation, he set out on foot, hoping that if he put himself in Glory’s shoes, he’d somehow connect to her and have an epiphany. Where he was walking to, T had no idea, he just needed to walk.
T made it almost all the way up Cayce Street when it struck him.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dialed Harper. He was already in a full sprint headed south, back to his truck.
“Did you find her?” Harper asked right away.
“Lily Bastian,” T said as he moved with big strides.
“What about her?”
“I need her address, Harper. I think I know where Glory is.”
*
While at Lily’s, Glory was embarrassed at the number of naps she took, she seemed to be as lazy as the small kitten she’d rescued on the backroads near Franklin. Her body seemed to be on its own clock, like Lexington and Osbourne told her, nurturing the baby would sap her strength. But what strength she had, she kept busy. She had to, when she was busy, she didn’t think about
her own situation so much. To keep her sanity, Glory had discounted the weird encounter with Ma Dyer. She knew there were people who could do those things, but it was easy to read too much into their soothsaying. What the old woman saw could’ve just been her picking up on Glory’s own hopes and dreams, not a foretelling. Her last prediction could have been a vision of heaven. Glory believed in heaven. Still, she couldn’t help but hope…
To keep her mind off what she had no control over, Glory immersed herself in Lily’s world. The more she visited the art gallery, the more she fell in love. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” She strolled around the shop, which was built on different levels and full of paintings, sketches, and lifelike sculptures. “Why is it called Charlotte’s and not Lily’s?”
“Ah, because this gallery was first owned by a beautiful lady named Charlotte Belmont. She was one amazing woman. I found her diary hidden in a wall when I was renovating my bedroom and I’ve been able to reacquire some paintings that meant the world to her and I’m looking for others.” Lily busied herself by turning the Closed sign to Open and putting on a pot of aromatic apple cider to simmer.
“What kind of paintings?” Glory asked, introducing Thomas to a cushion on a cozy window seat. Thankfully, Lily had no problem with the kitten. In fact, the little mite made himself at home wherever he might be.
“Paintings by her friend, let me show you.” Being mysterious, Lily held out her hand, but their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a customer. “Oh well, a little later. Don’t let me forget.”
“Okay.” As her friend/boss accompanied a lady with a French accent around the gallery, Glory moved to the back of the store. She wasn’t dressed well enough to mix with the clientele. In the interim, she made herself as useful as possible – dusting, straightening, and filing. She’d made some progress in learning what her job at the gallery might entail. Honestly, Glory felt guilty for agreeing to do this. She felt like she was cheating her friend somehow. What she had to offer was so negligible compared to what Lily deserved in an employee. The few hours she spent making snow cones at Gene’s Sweet Snow was so much more her speed.
In the last couple of days, she practiced doing research on a painting Lily had picked up for a song at a local estate sale. She’d also spent a couple of hours learning the mechanics of a fancy art database which included tens of thousands of paintings and their current locations. Another skill she was practicing was making a brochure on the computer to send out to prospective buyers.
For a moment, as she hunted a folder for utility receipts, Glory’s eyes glazed over. Despite her determination to think of other things, she kept hearing Ma Dyer’s words. How could she have known those things about her? The true things? Did the old seer’s knowledge of the past make the words a prophecy?
Glory’s fingers trembled as she revisited the possibilities. Lily kept hinting she should call T-Rex, to at least let him know she was okay. Glory couldn’t do it, not yet. She had called Calvin, to at least let him know the bait shop was closed again. He hadn’t seemed surprised, nor had he asked where she was. Glory sighed. Everyone had their own set of problems.
“How are things coming?”
Glory looked over her shoulder. “Good.” Closing the drawer, she turned around. “I noticed on the calendar you have a showing coming up in a few weeks. I didn’t recognize the name.”
“Yes. Charlize Bradley. Originally from Detroit, she’s been in the Crescent City for about seven years. She’s one of the ones that sell their work at Jackson Square. I bet you walked right by her.”
“Possibly. There were a lot of artists there.” She moved over to a large, colorful catalog, detailing paintings that were up for sale at several auction houses.
“Finding new talent is my favorite part. In fact, I spoke to Waco Rainwater again the other day. He’s agreed to let me introduce his work to the art world. Now, I just have Harper Jones to convince. If you talk to her, put in a good word for me.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” Glory said wistfully, turning the pages. “Talk to her, I mean.” She cleared her throat, then rushed to add. “But I do love her work and Waco’s. Their paintings brought the countryside to life.” Tapping an image on one of the catalog’s pages, she pointed out a painting full of swirls and dots that was selling for an exorbitant price. “I’m not one for impressionistic art, I like pictures that represent something I can identify.” Glory inhaled a deep breath, making her jaws pooch out, then exhaled slowly. “I’m not sophisticated enough for this, Lily.”
Lily laughed at her guest. “I understand, modern art is an acquired taste. Why don’t we just take this one day at a time and see how you like it?”
“I guess.” Glory moved over to a table near the window that held some new acquisitions. Her favorite was a rendering of a beautiful woman standing on the banks of the river, it touched Glory in a way she could barely comprehend. “He loved this woman,” she murmured, running her finger over the brass plaque at the bottom, which read Genevieve.
“Yes, he did,” Lily confirmed, walking up next to her. “That’s the artist I was telling you about, Charlotte’s friend. He was a free black man named Abraham Duvalier. I’ve spent as much time as I can spare tracking down his work. Even though I could get megabucks for them, when I locate one, I hang it in a special room in my home. I’ll show you later, don’t let me forget.”
“I won’t.” As if she could. Glory was intrigued. There was something weird about the history of this place and Lily’s connection to it.
“One of these days I’ll let you read Charlotte’s diary. Their lives were intertwined, yet they both experienced the love of a lifetime.”
The bell sounded on the front door as someone else entered the shop. “Excuse me,” Lily said, leaving Glory to her memories.
She felt sadness rise in her breast. They say everything happens for a reason, but for the life of her, Glory was having a hard time determining what the reason for all of this was. Maybe it was better that she was here. After long moments staring at the painting, Glory whispered, “I found the love of my life too. Pity he didn’t feel the same way.”
“But I did, Glory. I feel exactly the same way.”
Hearing T’s voice sound so unexpectedly behind her almost caused Glory’s heart to stop. Grasping her chest, she raised her eyes and found his reflection in the window. “You’re here?”
“It seems like I’ve been looking for you forever, Glory Bee.”
He moved a step closer and Glory whirled around. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Didn’t you? You told that old man in Baldwin to give me a message. Remember?”
She let her eyes rove over him. He was so beloved. “I didn’t really expect you, T. I was telling a whopper.”
He reached for her hand. “I’ve come to take you home.”
The words she’d hoped to hear for so long now sounded strange to her ears. Instead of filling her with elation, fear gripped her. Did he mean them? Had he changed his mind? Would he change it again if he knew the whole truth? She wouldn’t survive if he did. “I don’t know.” Glory sidestepped, looking around frantically to find Lily. “I don’t think I can.”
“Glory?” T was floored. “What do you mean?”
“I need to think.”
Before T knew what happened, Glory fled his presence. He started after her, but Lily Bastien stopped him, grasping onto his arm.
“Let her go.”
“No, she doesn’t understand. You don’t understand. I’ve turned the world all which a way looking for her. Please, I need to speak to her.” T begged.
“Awww, T, give her time. Give her space.” She patted him on his arm. “Go get a room, stay nearby. Let me talk to her. You showing up out of the blue has pulled the rug out from under her feet.” Lily walked to her desk and gave him her card. “Here’s my number. Call me later.”
T fought back his instinct to tear the wall down to find Glory. “I didn’t come to hurt her, Lily. I
came to make things right.”
“I know. She’s been through so much,” Lily whispered. “Just give us a little time. Okay?”
T-Rex didn’t want to go. Everything he wanted and needed was so near. Walking away, even for a short while, was almost unthinkable. “Wait. Give me something to write on. I want to leave her a note.”
Lily handed him a pad and pen.
T bent over the desk and scribbled a few sentences, folding the paper and handing it to Lily. “Tell her I’ll be back.” His eyes bore into Lily’s. “I have to come back. She’s mine.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
My Glory
I didn’t know how much I needed you until you walked away.
Forgive me for being such a fool.
Give me five minutes to convince you that I deserve a second chance. Please.
T
“Oh, God.” Glory fell back in the bed. “Lily, this is an impossible situation. What am I going to do?”
“Take a pill.” She handed Glory her meds. “Take whatever pills you’re supposed to take and breathe. Breathe.”
She did, not even bothering with water. “I’ve got to calm down. All of this stress can’t be good for the baby.”
“Correct. Now, drink this.”
Glory sat up. “What’s that?” Taking a glass from Lily, she eyed the green concoction with suspicions.
“Healthy fruits and vegetables. Drink,” Lily commanded, picking up Thomas and taking a seat across from her. “Now, let’s discuss this. Not that I want you to leave – at all. But isn’t this exactly what you wanted, what you prayed for?”
“Yes,” Glory groaned, taking a big sip of the drink. “Hmmm, this isn’t so bad.” Yes, she was avoiding answering. When she saw her friend wasn’t budging, she set the glass on a bedside table and picked up the note, pressing it to her chest. “Yes,” she repeated, “this is exactly what I want. But what if I’m being selfish?”
“Selfish? I don’t understand.”
“Despite my hopes,” And Ma Dyer’s divination, “the facts, as laid out by my doctors and all the medical journals I’ve read, are pretty clear that my chances of living through this are slim to none.” She leveled a look at her friend. “You and I are used to existing on the edge.” She tried to make light of their unfortunate plights. “But…” She wilted a little. “Lily, T-Rex doesn’t know about my PAH. He had a hard enough time processing the baby.”
