The Move Back

After moving to Montreal in search of more employment opportunities and living there for four years, Elise decided to move back to Paris.  Living in Montreal made her nostalgic for the little cafes she used to haunt in the Latin Quarter.  She missed her family and friends.  Most of all, she missed Jules.

She found out from his mother that he was living in Marais.  When she looked at the address, she saw that it was within walking distance from her parent’s home.  His mother was happy to see her and they had a nice, long chat.  Elise asked her not to let Jules know that she was back.  She wanted to surprise him.  After promising to visit again, she left.

She went home and took a quick shower.  As she got dressed, she wondered how Jules would react when he saw her.  The night before she left for Canada, they had dinner at a restaurant which offered a spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower.  They talked about her move to Canada and after dinner, they went for a walk along the Seine River.  It was a beautiful night.  “Where will you stay?” he asked.

“I have an aunt who lives in Montreal.  I will stay with her until I find a job.”

He looked at her.  “I will miss you,” he said quietly.

She looked up at him.  “I will miss you too.”

“You will keep in touch, won’t you?”

“Of course, I will.”

They stood there for a moment, facing each other.  For a brief and maddening moment, she wanted him to kiss her.  “I’d better take you home,” he said.  “You have an early flight in the morning.”

Disappointed, she turned and fell into step beside him as they walked to his car.  They didn’t say much on the ride over to her house.  He walked her to the door and when they were standing out there, he reached down and hugged her.  She closed her eyes and hugged him back.  When he drew back, he stared down into her face for a long moment during which her heart was pounding fast and hard.  Then, he leaned over and kissed her.

It began as a tentative caress and then turned into a passionate kiss.  She reached up and gripped the sides of his jacket as she kissed him back.  This lasted for several minutes and then he pulled back and muttered, “Goodbye, Elise.”  Before she could say anything, he turned and quickly walked away from her.

She watched him go, her heart breaking.  Her parents were still up but she went straight up to her room and didn’t leave it until it was time to have breakfast before heading to the airport.

The next time she saw him it was in the summer of the following year.  She had no idea that he was in Montreal until he called her one afternoon from his hotel room.  Excited, she dropped everything and took a taxi over to the hotel.  She knocked on the door and it was opened immediately.  He smiled at her as she stood there in her tan colored jacket over a white dress, arms folded and grinning broadly.  Then she was throwing her arms around him, almost knocking him over.  “It’s so good to see you,” she exclaimed as they hugged.

“It’s good to see you too,” he said when they drew apart.  He pulled her into the room and closed the door.  Before she had a chance to look around the suite, his arms were around her waist and he was pulling her roughly against him.  “I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered thickly before he lowered his head and kissed her.  Elise’s arms traveled over his arms and found their way around his neck as she responded to his fiery kisses.

They ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in his suite and he ordered room service.  He spent three weeks which went by very quickly.  After that they saw each in the summer and over the Christmas holidays.

The knock on her bedroom door interrupted her daydreaming and she went and opened the door.  It was her mother.  “Your Aunt Lourdes invited us for dinner tonight,” she said.  “Would you like to join us?”

“Sorry, Maman, but I have other plans.  I’m going to see Jules.”

“So it is serious between Jules and you?”

Elise nodded.  “Yes, it is.”

“Well, I’m happy for you.  Jules is a very nice young man.  His mother did a very good job raising him.  I’ll see you later then.”  She turned to leave and then paused.  She looked over her shoulder.  “It is good to have you home again.”

“It’s good to be home, Maman,” she said.  When she was alone again, she quickly fixed her hair and checked herself in the mirror before hurrying out of the bedroom.  Five minutes later she was walking to Jules’ apartment building.

It was the last day in April so the weather was beginning to warm up somewhat.  The cashmere sweater she wore with the skinny jeans kept her warm and they looked great with her ballerina apartments.  As she hurried down the sidewalk, she hoped Jules was home.  He was.  When she rang the doorbell, she heard his footsteps and then the sound of the latch being pulled back.

He opened the door and started when he saw her.  His eyes grew wide.

“Surprise,” she said, laughing.

He stood there staring at her.  “What are you doing here?” he asked.  Then collecting himself, he took her arm and pulled her inside the apartment.  After closing and locking the door, he turned to look at her.  “Why didn’t you call or email me to tell me that you were going to be in Paris.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you succeeded.  How long are you here for?”

“I’m here for good.  I’m not going back to Montreal.  I moved back to Paris.”

“When did you move back?”

“This morning.  I’m staying at my parents’ house for now.”  He looked so cute in his white polo tee shirt and blue jeans.  “How many of these things do you have?” she asked, tugging at the sleeve.

“Too many,” he replied dryly.  He reached for her and pulled her against him, his eyes dropping to her lips, his parting in anticipation.  “Kiss me.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she murmured huskily before she reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

Several hours later, they were relaxing on the sofa.  She was wearing his robe.  She turned to look at him, reaching over and running her fingers through his hair which was still a bit damp from the shower.  He rested his hand on her thigh.  “Why did you really move to Montreal?” he asked.

“I was trying to prove something to myself.  Growing up, I always felt so unsure of myself.  I was the gawky kid who didn’t think she was particularly good at anything.  In high school, I wanted to be daring like some of the girls but I didn’t have the guts to do it.  It changed when I was in college.  I was more confident because my academic excellence.  In a sense, I’m happy that I went to Montreal.  Being there made me realize that my identity is more than my accomplishments or my failures.  It’s who I am as a person.  I don’t see myself as awkward any more, just unique.”

“And I see you as the incredible woman I love and want to spend the rest of my life with,” he said reaching into the pocket of his robe and pulling out a small box.

Elise gaped as he opened it and revealed an exquisitely beautiful diamond ring.  “When did you…?”

“I bought it in January and was planning to give it to you when I saw you in June.  But, now that you’re here, I see no reason why I shouldn’t give it to you now.”  He slid off the sofa and got on one knee.  “Elise, will you marry me?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.  The tears in her eyes made him a big blur.  She felt rather than saw him slip the ring on her finger.  She brushed the tears away.  He got up from the floor and sat beside her again.  He pulled her onto his lap and his mouth found hers.  She put her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as she kissed him back.  She couldn’t wait to see her mother’s face when she showed her the ring.

 

Sources:  Interstude; Paris Insider’s Guide;

Advertisements

The Cruise

He sat back in the chair, arms over the sides, his long legs crossed, watching her as she did her stretches on the deck.  He watched her, wanting her and kicking himself for it.  His attraction for her was like a fever, burning him up inside and a sickness that seemed to grow worse.  At nights it was torture.  He would lay awake, thinking about her and wishing that she was lying next to him instead of Moira.  When Moira and he made love, he imagined that it was Yasmin and felt like a heel afterwards.

Yasmin noticed Adam sitting there and that he was alone.  She wondered where Moira was.  The strawberry blonde was constantly by his side.  However, today, he was by himself and she could feel him watching her and it thrilled her.  He looked sullen as usual but she wasn’t going to let that bother her.  She finished her exercises and went over to him.  Smiling, she greeted him, “Good morning, Adam.”

She saw his gaze travel over her slim figure clad in a red tank top and black capri leggings.  He looked like a preppy dressed in a navy blue jacket with a handkerchief in the pocket, a pink sweater over a blue and white striped shirt and green shorts.  It seemed like too many colors to be wearing at once but he managed to pull it over.  A pair of expensive looking brown loafers completed the look.  His thick, silky dark hair was off his forehead as he had a habit of combing it back with his fingers.

“Good morning,” he replied, his expression guarded.

She sat down.  “Where’s Moira?”

“She was here on the deck with me earlier but began experience motion sickness so I took her back to the cabin.  I gave her some Gravol and she’s having a lie down.  Colette is with her now.”

Yasmin took a couple of sips of her water before she replied.  “I hope she feels better.  It’s a good thing that we are at sea all day today.  It would be a shame for her to miss any of the sightseeing.”  She leaned back in the chair.  “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is,” he conceded, somewhat reluctantly.  He was trying not to stare but he couldn’t help himself.  The face that haunted him, intruded upon his dreams and thoughts was right in front of him.  Part of him wished that she would go away and leave him alone and the other part wanted her to stay.

“What do you plan on doing now that Moira is indisposed?”

“I don’t know.  Perhaps, I will stay here for a while, then return to the cabin and stay there until it’s time for lunch.”

“Do you mind if I keep your company?” she asked.

He shook his head.  The part of him that wanted her to stay was stronger.  This was the first time that they were alone together and opportunity for him to learn more about her.  “Is this your first cruise?”

She nodded.  “Yes, it is.  I was so excited when Colette told me about it last year.  I’m looking forward to visiting Italy and France.”

“It’s a pity that Le Havre isn’t one of the ports we will stop at when we reach France.  You would have been able to see Paris.  Do you know why it’s really called the ‘City of Lights’?”

She shook her head.  It was so pleasant being with him like this and actually having a conversation, the two things she hadn’t been able to do until now.

“It was referred as the City of Light, not the City of Lights because of its leading role during the Age of Enlightenment and it was one of the first European cities to light its boulevards and streets with gas lamps.”

“So you’ve been to Paris before.  What other places have you been to?”

He told her about the different countries he traveled to and she listened, enthralled.  The way he described the various places was so vivid and detailed that she could almost imagine herself being there.  She could have sat there and listened to him talk for ages but he turned the conversation over to her by asking questions about her.

Her life sounded so ordinary compared to his and when she learned that he was a barrister, she smiled as she pictured him wearing the white wig.  Intrigued, she asked him what it was like to be a barrister.  As she listened to him talk about the 12 month training, what it was like shadowing his supervisor and when he was able to practice, her job as an editor for a fashion magazine seemed dull.  They talked for a long while and then it was almost time for lunch.

He walked her back to her cabin and while he went to his to see if Moira was up for going to lunch, she went to change and freshen up.  Colette was there.  Together, they went to Adam’s cabin and found Moira and him waiting.  “You’re feeling better, I see,” Yasmin commented.

Moira smiled.  “Yes, the Gravol helped.  I’m hungry.”

Colette put her arm around her.  “Good.  You got your appetite back.”

Adam and Yasmin followed them.  As they walked beside each other down the corridor, he looked at her the same time she looked at him.  Their eyes were locked in a steady gaze for a several minutes and then she looked away.  He turned to look straight ahead of him, a muscle throbbing along his jawline and his eyes dark with the emotions that were raging inside him at the moment.

The four of them had lunch together and afterwards, Adam and Moira went back to the cabin while Yasmin and Colette went to the boutique.  “They have a suite,” Colette was telling her as they went on the deck where they planned to relax for the rest of the afternoon.  “I felt as if I were in a hotel.  They have a balcony too.”

Yasmin was thinking about Adam what had transpired between them in the corridor a while ago.  The look they had exchanged.  It was charged.  Is that why he went back to the suite with Moira instead of hanging out with Colette and her?  “How long have they been dating?” she asked.

“About three years.”

“Do you think they will get married?”

“I don’t know.  Look here’s a nice spot.” Colette went on to talk about other things and then she leaned back and covered her face with her hat.

Yasmin sat there, her mind muddled.  The last thing she wanted to do was fall for a guy who was already in a relationship.   She resolved then not to be alone with him for the rest of the cruise.  That night at dinner, she tried to act nonchalant around him and spent most of her time talking to the two brothers who shared their table. The next day when they stopped in Gibraltar, Colette and she accompanied the two brothers to the summit of the rock and the four of them stood there admiring the spectacular views.  She was aware of Adam standing close by and when she came down from the rock and walked past him, she could feel him watching her.

It was hard avoiding him but she felt that it was the sensible thing to do.  When they were on the sandy beach of Costa Blanca, he managed to get her alone.  The others were walking along the stretch of white sand, taking photos, dipping their feet in the water.  As she would have walked past him, he caught her by the arm, forcing her to stop and look up at him.  “Why are you avoiding me?” he demanded, his eyes smoldering as they met her gaze.

“Am I?” she asked.

“You know you are,” he hissed.  “And I want to know why.”

“Please, let’s join the others before they start to wonder—”

“By others do you mean Tom?  You have been spending a lot of time with him lately.”

She turned her head away.  If she continued looking at him, her resolve would crumble.  “Unlike you, Tom isn’t in a relationship.  Now, please let go of my arm.  They are looking at us.”  She tugged at her arm and he released it.  She hurried away, almost running, anxious to get away from him and the feelings he stirred in her.

He watched her go, his heart pounding wildly and his breathing harsh.  How he longed to go after her and tell her how seeing her with Tom pained him. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes as the struggled to compose himself before he joined the group.

That night at dinner and subsequent night after that he sat there, watching her with Tom and wondered how much more he could endure.  When they were in Rome, he was distracted by Tom taking photos of Yasmin in front of the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps.  He hardly noticed his surroundings with their rich history and stunning architecture.  Every place they visited was a blur for him.  He was actually thankful when it was the final night on the cruise.

The group decided to go to the nightclub that night after dinner.  He wasn’t in the mood for dancing and preferred to sit at a table and nurse his virgin daiquiri.  The four of them chatted, reminiscing about the different places they had visited.  Then, Tom and his brother came over to the table and asked Yasmin and Colette to dance.  Yasmin hesitated for a second and then she got up.  Adam watched her go.  Jealousy tore through him as he watched Tom put his hand on her waist and they moved to the music.  His fingers tightened around the glass.

“It’s late,” Moira said.  “I think we should turn in now.  We have a very early day tomorrow.” She stood up.

Adam finished his drink and stood up as well.  After casting one last look at the dance floor, he followed Moira out of the nightclub.  Back in their suite, not much was said and when Moira turned in, he went out on the balcony and stayed there for a while, staring at the ocean, wondering if Yasmin was still at the nightclub with Tom.  It was late when he finally turned in and even then, he didn’t fall asleep for a while.

At breakfast, Moira and he sat with Yasmin and Colette.  Colette did most of the talking while Yasmin toyed with her breakfast, her eyes downcast as she avoided looking at Adam.  When they said goodbye to each other, she managed to smile but inside she was hurting.  She didn’t feel right hugging Moira so she just squeezed her hand and then walked away.  She and Colette were going to spend the day in Southampton before taking the train back to London.

When they were in the car that would take them from Southampton to London, Moira said to him, “I know that you don’t love me, Adam.  You care for me but you don’t love me.  You never did.  I realize that now.  I want to be with a man who loves me the way I love him.”

Adam looked at her, his face pale.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry too,” she said and looked away.  A few moments of silence passed and then she turned to him.  “It’s Yasmin, isn’t it?  I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Yes,” he admitted.  It was no use denying it now.  He was hopelessly in love with her.

“It explains the recent cacophony between us.  You were acting differently toward me and I couldn’t explain why until last night on the ship.  I saw your reaction to Yasmin dancing with Tom.  You were jealous.  You couldn’t hide it.  It was there on your face.  What I would have given for you to look that way for me.”

Adam reached out and covered her hands as they lay clasped in her lap.  “I’m so very sorry, Moira” he said again.  “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” she said.  “You have no reason to be jealous of Tom or any man.  It’s obvious that Yasmin is in love with you too.”

Adam stared at her.  “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” she asked, not looking at him.

“For being so kind to me when I really don’t deserve it.”

“I still love you,” she said.  “And I want you to be happy even if it’s not with me.”  After that she said nothing else for the rest of the drive.  Her face was turned to the window so that he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.  When the car pulled up outside her building, he came out and they hugged.  “Goodbye, Adam.”

“Goodbye, Moira.”

Adam got back into the car and after he watched her disappear into the building he told the driver to take him to his flat.

Hours later, Yasmin was in her flat.  She had just finished taking a shower when the doorbell rang.  She hurried to the door and peered through the keyhole, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who it was.  She unlocked the door and opened it.  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Adam’s eyes were restless on her face.  “I have something I need to say to you.”

“I think I said all I needed to say where we were on that beach.”

“May I come in?”

She stepped aside to let him in and then she closed the door.  Leaning against it, she asked, “What do you have to say to me?” She tried not to notice how handsome he looked in the white shirt and dark jeans.  His hair was slightly tousled.

“I love you, Yasmin,” he muttered thickly.  “I love you and I want to be with you.”

She swallowed, her heart racing now.  “What about Moira?” she asked.

“Moira and I are no longer together.  She figured out that I am in love with you.”

Yasmin tried to process what she was hearing.  “How did she take it?”

“She was heartbroken but bore no grudge toward me.  She is a fine woman and I hope that one day she would find a man worthy of her.”  He moved closer, his hands aching to touch her.  “She told me that I have no reason to be jealous of Tom or any man.”

“She’s right,” Yasmin told him.  “I love you, Adam.  Tom knew that too.”

He groaned, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms.  “You have no idea how seeing you with him has tormented me.   That day on the beach, I was almost out of my mind with jealousy because you were spending so much time with him and avoiding me.”

“I had to stay away from you because of your relationship with Moira.”

“There’s no reason for us to stay away from each other now,” he muttered before he lowered his head and kissed her.

As his mouth moved furiously and feverishly on hers, she moaned, closing her eyes and kissed him back.  She reached up and buried her fingers in his thick, silky hair, the nails digging into the scalp as they exchanged hungry kisses.

That morning, when she said goodbye to him, she thought that it was the last time she would ever see him.  Yet, here he was, in her flat and in her arms, as much in love with her as she was with him.  The bleak future which, moments ago, she had foreseen for herself had turned into a very bright one.

 

young couple on cruise ship

Sources:  Royal Caribbean; Wikipedia; Royal Caribbean; Chambers Student; Wikipedia; Wikipedia;

The Photo Shoot

She had photographed many men but this one took the cake.  This was her first trip to Scotland for a photo shoot for the fashion magazine she worked for.  She had never seen a man in a kilt before but this guy looked incredible in the traditional garb.  He wore it extremely well.  And those smoldering eyes and rugged looks didn’t hurt.

She willed herself to remain professional and just do the job at hand.  However, she couldn’t help wishing that she could exchange places with the glamorous woman standing beside him.  Perhaps, she could ask the woman to take a photo of her with him after the shoot and…

Don’t be silly, she chided herself.  You are here to do a job.  Just do it.  

She continued clicking away and was relieved when it was over.  She was packing up her gear when he joined her.  She tried not to give away the fact that she was as nervous as a schoolgirl with a crush and smiled sedately.

“Callum,” he said with that Scottish lilt that was as disarming as his smile.

She held out her hand.  “Holly.”  He clasped it in firm but warm handshake.  She felt a bolt of electricity course through her body.  Their eyes met and held for what seemed like eternity.  He was holding her hand a lot longer than was necessary, not that she minded, of course, but she could feel her face grow hot.  He seemed to realize it too and released her hand, almost apologetically.

“Is this your first time in Edinburgh?” he asked, after clearing his throat.

“It’s my first time in Scotland.”

“How long are you here for?”

“I’m here for another two weeks.  I’m here for the International Fashion Festival and after that I’m off to Glasgow to check out the boutiques.  Then it’s back to London.”

“If you’re not busy tomorrow, I’d like to take you out for lunch and then on a tour around the city.”

She couldn’t believe it.  He wanted to take her out to lunch and show her around Edinburgh.  “I’d like that,” she said.  “I’ll get a chance to try your national dish.”

He laughed.   “I’ll take you to best place where they serve Haggis,” he promised.

“It’s a deal.”  Not only was he handsome but he was really friendly and easygoing.  She felt very relaxed with him and was looking forward to seeing him the next day.  She wrote down the name of the hotel where she was staying and handed it to him.  “Bye.”

“See you tomorrow, Holly.”  Oh, how good her name sounded in the Scottish accent, she thought as she walked away.  She made a mental note to thank Margo for assigning her to the photo shoot here in Scotland instead to the one in Paris.

Slide1

Sources:  Culture Trip; Edinburgh International Fashion Festival

The Move to Paris

It took a lot of moxie to get her here to Paris

but it is her faith in God that keeps her going.

Leaving Toronto with its familiar

haunts, a job she loved, family and friends

to settle in a city she had only visited once

wasn`t an easy thing to do at all.  She didn`t

think she had it in her.  Her friends rooted for her,

and already made plans to visit her in the

summer but her family was a different

story.

 

Her mother didn`t like the idea of her being in

Europe all by herself and was fearful of terrorist

attacks.  Mia had to remind her that she was old

enough to take herself.  And she assured her that

God would protect her.

 

Her father warned her to be careful of the

French men.  And her sister, well, she was glad

to see her go because it meant that she didn`t

have to share the bath-room with her anymore.

And she could move into Mia`s room which

was much bigger and nicer than hers.

 

Mia paused to look at the Eifle Tower.  She was

here to begin a new life, on her own.  It had

always been a dream of hers to live in Europe.

She had considered London, Rome, Barcelona

and Lisbon but she decided on Paris.  She could

speak French fluently and she loved the food.

And besides, she could always take the train or

the Hovercraft to London any time.

 

Upon her arrival in Paris, she applied for a

job to teach English and was accepted.  Her first

day on the job was tomorrow.  Her heart did

a little somersault.  The thought of standing

in front of a classroom was daunting.  Then she

heard the words, “Fear not: for I am with thee.

Peace filled her heart and she offered a silent

prayer of thanksgiving.

 

She asked one of the people standing nearby to

take a photo of her.  Her first Sunday afternoon in

Paris.  She smiled broadly into the camera.  Paris

is a beautiful city and she had all the time she

needed to enjoy it.  For now she was content to

stay here a little longer and just soak up the

atmosphere and admire the view.

 

Asian woman in Paris

Papa Joe

August 12, 1952.  It was a date she would never forget.  It was the day she buried the man who had been a father to her for over twenty years.  It seemed so surreal.  Papa Joe was gone.  She stood there alone in her grief, shivering although it was a hot and muggy day.

She stared at the ground where Papa Joe lay.  The tears rolled down her cheeks as she cradled his worn Bible, remembering how he used to read it to her when she was a child. When her parents had died he took her in and raised her as his own. She had grown to love the old man as if he were her very own blood.  Many of the townspeople had a problem with the widower raising a black girl and didn’t hide their displeasure but Papa Joe ignored them.  His business began to suffer.  Papa Joe was a tailor.  He knew that business would pick up again if he got rid of Cassandra but he refused to do so.  Even if he went bankrupt, he would never part with her.  He vowed that only death would separate them.

It was Papa Joe whom she shared her dreams with.  It was Papa Joe who comforted her when she went home crying because of the racial slurs and taunts.  Papa Joe was the only one who knew that she loved a man she had no right to love.  She had known Dr. Baker since she was a child.  He used to stop by and see Papa Joe.   He was always kind to her and brought her treats.  As she grew older, the visits became more frequent.  Papa Joe was no fool.  He could see that feelings were developing between them and he warned her, “You and the doctor have to be careful, Cassie.  This town will not take kindly to a relationship between a black girl and a white man.”

One night when Dr. Baker visited, Papa Joe excused himself and went to his room.  As soon as they were alone, the doctor took Cassandra into his arms and kissed her.  “I have wanted to do that all day,” he whispered when he raised his head to gaze down into her face.  “I know that there is a considerable age difference between us but I love you, Cassandra.  I tried to stay away when I realized that I had fallen in love with you but I couldn’t.  I had to see you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m leaving for Paris in three weeks and I would like you to come with me.”

“Paris?” she exclaimed.  “Why there?”

“I have always wanted to go there and set up a practice.  My mother was French and your family was from Haiti.  So the language won’t be a barrier for us.”

“I can’t go to Paris with you, Robert.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t leave Papa Joe.  He has been so good to me.”

“Joe would want you to be happy and you won’t be as long as you remain in this town.”

“I can’t be happy knowing that he is here all alone.”  She could see the distress on Robert’s face and she reached up and touched his face.  “I love you for wanting to take me away with you, but I can’t.  I hope you understand.”

“I do,” he sighed.  “Well, I better be going.  Please say goodnight to Joe for me.”  They kissed and then she walked with him to the door.

“Goodbye, Cassandra.  Write me and let me know how you are doing.”  He gave her a piece of paper with an address on it.  She took it.  After a lingering look, he was gone–perhaps out of her life for good.

That was three months ago.  They had exchanged letters since and when Papa Joe died, she had written and told Robert.  She stood now at the grave, the tears falling.  Papa Joe had left the house to her and all the money he earned from his tailoring.  She had the money locked away in a box.  She didn’t want to go back to the empty house.

She had no idea of how long she stood there but the biting cold prompted her to start making her way back to the house.  She had just reached the front porch when she saw a car pull up and Robert got out.  He walked over to her and taking her arm he led her up the steps.  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it on time for the funeral,” he apologized as she unlocked the door and they went inside.

Once inside and the door was shut, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.  She sobbed, letting out the pent up grief that had closed around her heart like a fist.  Robert stood there, holding her until the sobs subsided and then ceased.

When she was spent from all that crying, Robert took her over to the sofa and sat her down.  “Joe wrote me this note,” he said, handing it to her.  “I think you should read it.”

She wiped away the tears before she reached for the note.  Frowning, she slowly unfolded the paper and read it.  Dear Robert, I know that you love my Cassie and that you wanted to take her away from this cursed place.  If I know my dear girl she will not want to leave me.  She feels a sense of obligation to stay and take care of me as I have taken care of her all these years.  I don’t want to be a burden to her.  She is young and deserves to live her life.  There’s no future for her here.  I know that she loves you and that it broke her heart to be separated from you.  She thought I wasn’t aware, but I could see the unhappiness in her sweet face and I could hear her crying in the night.  She had sacrificed her chance for happiness for me.  I haven’t told her but I don’t have much longer to live.  When I pass on, which should be any time soon, please come and take Cassie away from here.  Take her to Paris where you and she will be free to love each other.  She can use the money from the sale of the house to pay for her fare.  I am sorry that I won’t be there for your wedding but know that I wish you both all the happiness in the world.  Please take good care of my precious girl.

Yours sincerely,

Joe

Fresh tears fell.  “I had no idea that he was dying.  He was tired more but I just thought that it was to do with age.  I am thankful that I was here for him.”

“Now, you can get on with your life.  We have his blessing.  Let me take you to Paris.”  He reached out and took her hands in his.  “Cassandra, I want to marry you.  Let me take you to Paris.”

She nodded.  “I will go to Paris with you,” she said.  Her life here was over.  There was nothing to keep her here.  Her future was with Robert now.  She would sell this house filled with so many wonderful memories and leave this town which had been the source of her unhappiness.  Yes, she will go to Paris and marry the man she loved.

 

crying african american woman in the 1950s

Moving Out

She stood there, suitcases packed in the small flat she had called home for eight years. Memories flooded her mind as she stepped to the window and gazed across at the park.   They had been so happy when they moved in.  After dating each other for two years, they decided that they would take big step of moving in together.   Of course, her parents hadn’t been thrilled.  They were Christians and didn’t believe in unmarried people living together.   At the time she wasn’t into church that much and felt that if two people loved each other, there wasn’t anything wrong with them living together.  This flat was Mike’s and hers.  Besides, they had talked about the possibility of getting married one day.

She smiled as she remembered how they had to order take out because she had burnt the roast because she had forgotten to set the timer.  It was the smoke coming out of the oven that alerted her and she managed to turn off the oven and open the windows before the smoke alarm went off.  Mike had been a good sport about it.  Since then, she had improved greatly in the kitchen.

The smile faded and tears sprang to her eyes.  She was leaving Mike.  After ten years together, she was ending their relationship.  It was hard.  She had invested so much in this relationship but she couldn’t continue like this.  Whenever she brought up the subject of them getting married, he seemed reluctant to talk about it or hedged around it until she dropped it.   Then, one evening she asked him point blank as they were having dinner if he wanted to get married.  He told her that he wasn’t ready.  He said that he liked things the way they were at the moment.  Marriage was a big step and he just wasn’t ready to take it right now.  Besides, they hadn’t really seriously talked about it, right?  It was something that was possible one of these days, just not now.  They were still young and had plenty of time to think about tying the knot.

She didn’t mention marriage again after that but it weighed on her mind.  Living together was troubling her now and it became a conviction when she started going to church with her friend.  The first time she went was when Mike was away on business. Carla invited her one Saturday morning and she absolutely loved it.  The people were so warm and friendly and she felt at home.  She went to church every Saturday after that and one day, she could have sworn that the pastor was speaking directly to her.  That day she was convinced that it was wrong for her to be living with a man she wasn’t married to.  When Mike got back from his trip she shared her feelings with him and he got angry.

“I will not be forced into getting married just because you suddenly have an attack of conscience,” he declared before he stormed out of the apartment.  After that their relationship was strained.  Whenever he wanted to make love, she said she had a headache until he finally stopped trying.  They hardly spoke.  Most of the time she ate alone.  He was gone when she got up in the mornings and was in bed when he got in. The business trips became more frequent.   She was miserable.  She spoke to Carla about it and her friend encouraged her to pray about the situation.  She did and she was convinced that God wanted her to move out.  And here she was.  Suitcases packed and ready to say goodbye to the man she had loved for ten years.  Marriage was out of the question as far as he was concerned and she couldn’t settle for less.  So, this was it.  She had to leave.  She was taking only her clothes and trinkets and books.  Everything else she was going to leave.  Carla offered her the guest room until she found a place.

She turned away from the window and walked over to the mantelpiece where several photos of Mike and her stood.  She reached for the one of them standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.  They had spent two weeks in Paris.  She had believed that they would return there one day–perhaps for their honeymoon.   She was tempted to take the photo but shook her head and turned away.  She didn’t want any reminders of what they once had.  The memories would always be there.  She didn’t need any physical reminders or mementos.  She glanced at the letter she had propped up beside the photo.  She had written it last night.  In it she explained why she had to leave and that she loved him. She will always love him.  She also mentioned that she would leave her key in the rental office.

She walked over to where her suitcases were and she pulled them behind her.  She opened the door and put them outside in the passageway and then turned and locked the door.   As she went slowly down the hallway, she felt as if her heart would break.   She left the key at the rental office, not seeing the curious look the woman gave her as she walked away.

Before she climbed into the taxi, she turned and looked up at the window of the flat which overlooked the park one final time.

looking to the sky

Bessie Coleman

Bessie Coleman was one of 13 children to Susan and George Coleman, sharecroppers.  The family lived in a one-room cabin in Atlanta, Texas.  When she was two years old, Bessie’s father left the family in search of better opportunities in Oklahoma.  Bessie’s mother did her best to support the family until the children were old enough to contribute.  When Bessie’s older brothers went to work, she took care of her two younger sisters.  She became the family leader, reading to her sisters and mother at night.  Bessie promised her mother that she was going to “amount to something.”

Bessie began attending school when she was six and had to walk four miles every day to her segregated one-room school.  There she loved to read and had the distinction as an outstanding Math student.  The school closed whenever the students were needed in the fields to help their families harvest cotton.

Bessie attended Langston University, known then as Oklahoma Colored Agricultural and Normal University.  She was able to complete one term before she ran out of money.  She returned home.  At 23 she moved to Chicago where she lived with her brothers.  It was when she was working at the White Sox Barber Shop as a manicurist that her interest in aviation was kindled.  She heard stories about flying during the war from pilots returning home from World War I.  American flight schools did not admit black women and one of the pilots was willing to teach her how to fly.

Determined to earn her pilot license and encouraged by Robert S. Abbott, founder and publisher of the Chicago Defender, Bessie went to France after taking a French language course at Berlitz School in Chicago.  In France, she learned how to fly in a Nieuport Type 82 biplane and on June 15, 1921 she became the first African American and Native American to earn both an aviation pilot’s license and an international license from the Federation Aeronautique Internationale.  For the next two months, Bessie took lessons from a French ace pilot near Paris to polish her skills.  When she returned to the United States she became a media sensation.

She specialized in stunt flying and parachuting.  She earned a living barnstorming and performing aerial tricks.  In 1922 she made her first appearance in an American airshow.  It was an event honoring veterans of an all-black 369th Infantry Regiment of World War I.  She was billed as “the world’s greatest woman flier.”

It was Bessie’s dream to establish a school for young black aviators but she didn’t live to fulfill it.  On April 30, 1926, Bessie was killed in an accident while preparing for an airshow.  She was only 34 years old.

Bessie Coleman remains a pioneer of women in the field of aviation.  “Because of Bessie Coleman,” wrote Lieutenant William J. Powell in Black Wings 1934, dedicated to Coleman, “we have overcome that which was worse than racial barriers.  We have overcome the barriers within ourselves and dared to dream.”  Lieutenant Powell served in a segregated unit during World War I and pushed for black aviation in his book, journals and through the Bessie Coleman Aero Club which he founded in 1929.

Notes to Women is pleased to honor this remarkable woman who broke down gender and race barriers by daring to dream big.  She kept her promise to her mother.  She did “amount to something”.

The air is the only place free from prejudice.

I refused to take no for an answer.

You’ve never lived till you’ve flown!

I decided blacks should not have to experience the difficulties I had faced, so I decided to open a flying school and teach other black women to fly.

 

Bessie Coleman painting

Sources:  Biography; Notable Biographies; Wikipedia; Brainy Quote