built was a multi-colored braided rug, and upon it sat an antique desk and chair. A table and two chairs upholstered in a chenille fabric of colorful peacocks on a white background stood near the windows.
In the other half of the room was a brass bed covered with a floral quilt, an oak dresser with an oval mirror, and shelves filled with musical instruments, dolls, and toys. The walls were papered in a pattern of large cabbage roses in pinks, reds, yellows and whites, their twining leaves and stems in three shades of green.
It’s been so long , thought Zera . She looked at the cloth and china dolls lining one shelf. I was still a kid. But just who am I now?
She put on a white cotton nightgown and climbed into bed. As she lay there under the covers, she looked up at a ceiling that twinkled with glow-in-the-dark painted constellations — yet another memory of her mother.
She started thinking about what Nonny had said, about going off to South America in a few weeks. She didn’t know I was coming until yesterday , Zera reminded herself. Then she thought of Nonny saying that she actually could have come to the funeral but didn’t. “Everyone’s different, has different needs,” her grandmother had said. Still, the hurt of it all seeped in. She heard Tiffany’s voice, in the car, “Guinevere was nowhere to be found, off on yet another one of her ‘spiritual quests.’ It’s lucky you were there for Zera.”
Nonny had always been a big part of her life, but now Zera remembered that Nonny had been gone a lot. Most of the time, Zera admitted . Zera also remembered her mother saying that when she and Ted were kids, their mother had been gone a lot, though she hadn’t given any details. Did I finally make it back just to be left again? Couldn’t Nonny change her plans this once? She was home, but felt lonelier than ever.
As she began to drift to sleep, soft words echoed in Zera’s ears.
“Welcome back . . . you’re home now.”
The voice was soft, sweet and feminine, both familiar and comforting. Zera was so close to sleep that she only half heard it, like a whisper in a dream. It came from the corner, from the top of her suitcase — where Ze ra had placed her box of plants.
Chapter Eleven
“I thought they’d have a chauffeur waiting for us when we got off the plane,” Tiffany complained, “with a sign saying, ‘Void Corporation for Mr. Theodore Green.’” Her eyes searched the crowd. “I don’t get this. I suppose we should go get our luggage.”
Theodore’s gut clenched. She was anxious, and so was he, but here she was, as usual, Tiffany worrying about Tiffany. She’d even changed clothes in the plane while making several passengers wait to use the bathroom. You’d think she was the one getting a new career.
Theodore shrugged. “We just got off the plane a minute ago. There are hundreds of people here, let’s just . . .”
“Mr. Green and Ms. Taylor, I presume?”
A tall man with dark hair and green eyes moved toward them and all the females in the vicinity turned his way. Thanks to Tiffany’s ongoing fashion lessons (lessons Theodore didn’t have an interest in but nevertheless learned from), Theodore noticed that the man wore a very expensive Italian designer suit. He stopped in front of them. Tiffany’s eyes were glued to this man. She looked flustered and one hand flew up to her chin for a moment. Although Theodore didn’t usually notice what other men looked like, he knew one thing from the female five-alarm reaction around him — this one was very handsome.
Before Theodore could answer, Tiffany threw back her shoulders and beamed, “Yes! We are Mr. Green and Ms. Taylor, I mean.”
The man extended a muscular hand. “I’m Langston Void.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” said Theodore, shaking it. “This is my girlfriend, Tiffany Taylor.”
Void took Tiffany’s hand and brought it to his lips, bestowing a kiss. “Ms. Taylor.”
Theodore adjusted his
In the other half of the room was a brass bed covered with a floral quilt, an oak dresser with an oval mirror, and shelves filled with musical instruments, dolls, and toys. The walls were papered in a pattern of large cabbage roses in pinks, reds, yellows and whites, their twining leaves and stems in three shades of green.
It’s been so long , thought Zera . She looked at the cloth and china dolls lining one shelf. I was still a kid. But just who am I now?
She put on a white cotton nightgown and climbed into bed. As she lay there under the covers, she looked up at a ceiling that twinkled with glow-in-the-dark painted constellations — yet another memory of her mother.
She started thinking about what Nonny had said, about going off to South America in a few weeks. She didn’t know I was coming until yesterday , Zera reminded herself. Then she thought of Nonny saying that she actually could have come to the funeral but didn’t. “Everyone’s different, has different needs,” her grandmother had said. Still, the hurt of it all seeped in. She heard Tiffany’s voice, in the car, “Guinevere was nowhere to be found, off on yet another one of her ‘spiritual quests.’ It’s lucky you were there for Zera.”
Nonny had always been a big part of her life, but now Zera remembered that Nonny had been gone a lot. Most of the time, Zera admitted . Zera also remembered her mother saying that when she and Ted were kids, their mother had been gone a lot, though she hadn’t given any details. Did I finally make it back just to be left again? Couldn’t Nonny change her plans this once? She was home, but felt lonelier than ever.
As she began to drift to sleep, soft words echoed in Zera’s ears.
“Welcome back . . . you’re home now.”
The voice was soft, sweet and feminine, both familiar and comforting. Zera was so close to sleep that she only half heard it, like a whisper in a dream. It came from the corner, from the top of her suitcase — where Ze ra had placed her box of plants.
Chapter Eleven
“I thought they’d have a chauffeur waiting for us when we got off the plane,” Tiffany complained, “with a sign saying, ‘Void Corporation for Mr. Theodore Green.’” Her eyes searched the crowd. “I don’t get this. I suppose we should go get our luggage.”
Theodore’s gut clenched. She was anxious, and so was he, but here she was, as usual, Tiffany worrying about Tiffany. She’d even changed clothes in the plane while making several passengers wait to use the bathroom. You’d think she was the one getting a new career.
Theodore shrugged. “We just got off the plane a minute ago. There are hundreds of people here, let’s just . . .”
“Mr. Green and Ms. Taylor, I presume?”
A tall man with dark hair and green eyes moved toward them and all the females in the vicinity turned his way. Thanks to Tiffany’s ongoing fashion lessons (lessons Theodore didn’t have an interest in but nevertheless learned from), Theodore noticed that the man wore a very expensive Italian designer suit. He stopped in front of them. Tiffany’s eyes were glued to this man. She looked flustered and one hand flew up to her chin for a moment. Although Theodore didn’t usually notice what other men looked like, he knew one thing from the female five-alarm reaction around him — this one was very handsome.
Before Theodore could answer, Tiffany threw back her shoulders and beamed, “Yes! We are Mr. Green and Ms. Taylor, I mean.”
The man extended a muscular hand. “I’m Langston Void.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” said Theodore, shaking it. “This is my girlfriend, Tiffany Taylor.”
Void took Tiffany’s hand and brought it to his lips, bestowing a kiss. “Ms. Taylor.”
Theodore adjusted his
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