Everything is You. Donna Hill

      “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.