Lowering his eyes to his glass, Quentin said quietly, “Why now? What made you decide to reach out now after all these years?”
Edward was silent so long Quentin thought he wouldn’t answer. When he did, his response was less than satisfactory. “I don’t know.”
Anger flashed through Quentin. “Bullshit.”
Edward met his accusing glare for a long moment, then turned his head to look out the window. He was silent for a while, watching as players and caddies moved across the fairways in golf carts.
“Your mother was my hero, Quentin,” he finally spoke. “Although we were seven years apart, we’d always been very close. Georgina was the only person who’d ever encouraged me to be myself, to march to the beat of my own drum. I looked up to her. Adored her. She could do no wrong in my eyes.”
Edward stared off into the distance, reliving his memories out loud. “I was only fourteen years old when she brought your father home to meet the family. She’d met him in Atlanta while she was away at Spelman. They were in love and wanted to get married. Fraser knew that Georgina came from a prominent family, so he wanted to do things the right way. He insisted on coming home with her that weekend to meet my father and formally ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.” A smile flitted over Edward’s face. “Georgina was a very beautiful woman who’d always had her share of admirers. While many of her suitors saw her as ‘trophy wife’ material, your father was different. Oh, he was clearly taken by her beauty, that much was obvious. But it was more than that. As I watched them together over lunch that day, I could tell he really loved her. But that wasn’t enough for George and Lenore.
“After lunch, Georgina and Fraser followed my parents into the library to have the big talk. Olivia and I wanted to eavesdrop at the door, but Mrs. Weaver, our housekeeper, shooed us off. So we snuck glasses out of the kitchen and put them up to the wall from another room. We couldn’t make out all the words, but we could tell by the raised voices that they were arguing with one another. Then suddenly Georgina and Fraser came storming out of the library. Georgina was in tears, and Fraser looked furious. After they left the house, I went to the library and asked my father what had happened. He told me that my ‘ungrateful, rebellious’ sister had decided to leave home to be with Fraser, and she wouldn’t be around anymore. I was absolutely devastated.”
Edward closed his eyes for a moment before continuing, “That night when Georgina came back home to pack her things, I went to her room and begged her to reconsider marrying Fraser. She told me that she loved him, and when you loved someone, you had to be willing to make sacrifices and take risks. She told me that as long as I lived my life according to our father’s rules, and as long as I allowed myself to be defined as the sole male heir and nothing more, I would never be truly happy.” Edward’s jaw tightened, his throat working on a hard swallow. “I was so angry with her. I resented her for choosing your father over her own family—over me. I was fourteen and immature about matters of the heart. I lashed out at her and accused her of being selfish. When she tried to reason with me, I shouted her down. When she tried to hug me, I pushed her away and told her to have a nice life. Then I ran out of her room and out of the house. When she left home the next day, I made sure I wasn’t around. I couldn’t bear the thought of…” Edward trailed off, and Quentin saw that his eyes were glazed.
After a few moments, he collected himself and took a long swig of his drink, then carefully set the glass back down on the cocktail napkin. When he spoke again, his voice was pitched low. “What happened with the cancer scare?”
Quentin felt his chest tighten at the memory. He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw. “You should ask my mother about that.”
Edward looked at him. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, his eyes shadowed with regret. “The first time I heard about it was the day you brought it up at Georgina’s house. But I should have known, and I would have if I had been there—”
“But you weren’t,” Quentin said flatly.
“No, I wasn’t,” Edward conceded sadly. “And there are no words to convey how sorry I am for that.”
Quentin gave him a stony look.
Edward reached across the table and put his hand on his tense shoulder. “You may not be ready to forgive me, and I understand that. But you need to understand something as well, Quentin. I want to be part of your life. I want to have a relationship with you and your wife and your son. I don’t want to miss watching Junior grow up like I did with you. And I want to be there for your mother the way I should have been all these years. So what you need to understand is that I’m not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not, nephew, I’m here to stay.”
Quentin glowered at his uncle for a long moment. “Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice in the matter,” he said darkly.
“No,” Edward agreed with a hint of a smile. “You don’t.”
***
Two hours before lunch was to be served, Grace, Lavinia and Georgina Harrington, along with Olivia and her two daughters, arrived at the house. They’d come early to partake of afternoon tea, a traditional pastime that occasionally preceded lunch depending on the family’s schedule.
After exchanging warm greetings and hugs, the women headed into the parlor to enjoy fragrant cups of hot tea and fresh-baked scones while chatting around a cozy fire.
As members of the black elite, the Harrington women belonged to many prestigious women’s organizations such as the Links and Girl Friends. These memberships were such an integral part of their lives that when they got together, much of their conversation revolved around charity galas, community service projects, political outreach efforts and the ever-important debutante cotillions. They also spoke excitedly about upcoming holiday parties, lavish black-tie dinners and a host of other functions that dominated their social calendars.
As an outsider, Lexi had very little to contribute to the conversation. So she mostly just sat there and listened, secretly yearning for the comforting familiarity of Prissy Wolf’s house during Sunday brunch. When Quentin’s mother caught her eye and winked, she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt out of her element. Although Georgina had been born into this life of privilege and prestige, she’d left home too early to become fully immersed in the elitist world of members-only social clubs. She enjoyed being an active member of her local AKA chapter, but the esteemed sorority didn’t define her existence or her worth.
When Lexi’s phone buzzed with an incoming text, she discreetly excused herself and left the parlor to read and respond to the message.
It was from Summer: How’s the family reunion going?
Lexi smiled as she typed back: It was touch and go for a sec. But we’re ok now.
Good. I was ready to come down there and kick some bougie black ass!
Lexi laughed out loud, then cupped her hand over her mouth and moved to the other side of the cavernous foyer.
So what r u doing now? her sister asked.
Having afternoon tea.
Oh? How quaintly Victorian.
Lexi grinned and wrote back: Tonight we’re going to the opera.
Sounds fun…NOT!
Lexi grinned and typed: So what’s going on with you?
Not much. Do u think I should have come home this weekend?
Why? Having regrets about bailing on Percy?
Maybe, Summer admitted. But I’m sure he’s not losing any sleep over it.
Idk about that, Lexi texted back. He really wanted to spend the day with you.
Think so?
Lexi shook her head in amused exasperation. Wasn’t it obvious???
Yes, Summer acknowledged. I’m such a chicken.
You are, Lexi agreed. But you’ve earned the right to be.
Do u think he’ll move on?
Do you want him to?
Thirty seconds passed before Summer answered: No.
Lexi stared at the single word on the screen before replying: Then don’t let him.
Her sister fell sile
nt again.
When a gale of feminine laughter spilled from the parlor, Lexi smiled and typed: I should get back to tea.
Ok. Call me when u get home. Wanna hear more about ur trip.
Will do.
After sending the message, Lexi took two steps toward the parlor doorway and then stopped. Deciding to get some fresh air instead, she turned and started across the foyer. Out of nowhere, a servant appeared to solicitously open the front door for her. She smiled and murmured her thanks before she stepped outside.
It was another mild day, sunny with only a hint of winter in the wind.
Taking a deep breath of the fresh country air, she crossed the large porch and sat on the white wicker love seat. When her phone buzzed again, she glanced down at the screen, grinning when she saw that Reese had sent a photo from Friday’s fundraiser dinner in Chicago. In the picture, Reese was flanked by Michael and President Obama. The two men were handsome and debonair in their black tuxedos while Reese looked absolutely stunning in the fire engine red Chanel dress that Lexi and Summer had helped her pick out. The dress perfectly accentuated her shapely figure, and the bold color complemented her glowing mahogany skin. Her upswept hair and makeup were flawless.
Her message read: Meant to send this pic yesterday, but we were out pretty late. Look at us with the POTUS. Squeee!
Lexi grinned broadly and texted back: Forget Obama. Girl, you look gawjus!!!
Aww, thanks, hon! It was so exciting to meet Pres Obama! It wasn’t Mike’s first time, so he wasn’t fazed. But I was fangirling all night. Can you tell by my Kool-Aid grin?
Lexi laughed. Just a tad.
Lol, Reese responded with a smiley emoji. Obama’s even taller than I thought. But my baby’s got a couple inches on him.
So I see. Mike looks great as usual.
Doesn’t he? And speaking of fine men…
Reese sent another picture. This time she, Michael and President Obama were joined by a darkly handsome black man in an impeccably tailored tux.
Ooh! Lexi wrote excitedly. Who’s that tall drink of water?!
His name’s Royce Brand, Reese replied. He’s some Chicago heavyweight the Dems are pushing to run for office.
Girl, he is fine! Dayum!
IKR? If I weren’t happily married…Lawd! And would you believe he has three brothers?!
Lexi grinned and texted back: Were they there too?
Sadly no, Reese answered. But when I chatted Royce up during dinner, he told me that his brother Roderick knows Manning because they both went to MIT. How’s that for six degrees of separation?
That happens to you a lot, Lexi observed. Didn’t Mike already know your brother-in-law, Warrick?
How bout that! Reese marveled. Small world, right? Anyway, we’re heading down to the Magnificent Mile to do some shopping. Hope all’s going well with Q’s family. Your goddaughter’s named after the city of Savannah, so that should be a good omen.
Lexi smiled and texted back: Have fun shopping. We’ll talk on Monday. I’ll bring coffee and beignets.
Yesss! See you soon!
A few moments later, Quentin’s mother and Olivia emerged from the house. When Georgina saw Lexi sitting by herself on the porch, she gave her a searching look and asked gently, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lexi said cheerfully. “Just enjoying this nice weather.”
“It is nice, isn’t it?” Georgina smiled up at the sky. “Savannah winters are child’s play compared to what we experience in Atlanta.”
“Yet another reason for you to come back home.” Olivia tucked her arm through Georgina’s and smiled at Lexi. “We’re heading down to the cemetery to visit Mrs. Weaver’s grave. We’ll be back before lunch.”
“All right.” Lexi watched as the sisters set off together, walking arm in arm. Long after they’d disappeared from view, she remained where she was, in no hurry to return to the idle chatter that awaited her inside.
“Mind if I join you?”
Lexi glanced around to see Georgina Harrington standing across the porch.
She smiled. “I don’t mind at all,” she said, patting the spot next to her.
Georgina walked over and joined her on the love seat. She carried herself with an Audrey Hepburn–like elegance and grace that seemed natural, not practiced. She was fashionably dressed in a cuffed black jumpsuit that was cinched at the waist with a wide red belt, and complemented by red Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a simple but elegant ponytail that showed off her fine bone structure and patrician features.
Lexi couldn’t help staring at her, struck by her uncanny resemblance to Quentin’s mother.
Georgina gave her a rueful smile. “I don’t blame you for making your escape,” she said, the sweet Southern lilt of her voice flowing out like warm honey. “I grow rather weary of discussing balls and fundraisers myself.”
“Oh, I wasn’t escaping.” At Georgina’s look of amused skepticism, Lexi laughed and held up her phone. “I got a text from my sister, and sometimes she worries when I don’t respond right away. Like she either thinks I’m mad at her or in some kind of trouble.”
Georgina smiled, nodding. “Lavinia gets that way too. I suppose it’s a good thing to have that kind of sisterly bond.”
“Definitely,” Lexi agreed.
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Summer.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“So is yours.”
“Thank you,” Georgina said warmly. “I love being named after my father’s favorite sister. Sometimes they call me Georgina Junior, or Gigi for short.”
At that moment Mrs. Branford emerged from the house carrying a tray with two mugs of spiced cider and a plate of warm cookies. “Cook just whipped up a batch and thought you girls might like to have some,” she told them.
Georgina grinned. “When have you ever known me to turn down her sugar cookies?”
Mrs. Branford laughed. “Never, chile.” After setting the tray on the table, she unfolded the thick quilt draped over her arm and spread it across Lexi and Georgina’s legs.
They beamed their appreciation and chorused, “Thank you, Mrs. Branford.”
“My pleasure.” She smiled affectionately and patted Lexi on the arm. “I just checked on Junior, and he’s still sleeping like an angel.”
“Wonderful.” Lexi smiled warmly. “Thanks for taking such good care of him, Mrs. Branford. I really appreciate it.”
The housekeeper tittered and waved off her gratitude before going back inside the house.
Still smiling, Lexi picked up a warm sugar cookie and bit into it. “Umm,” she said, savoring the rich, buttery taste. “That’s delicious.”
“Isn’t it? These are my favorite.” Georgina grinned and helped herself to a cookie. “I really hope you and Quentin will join the family on Martha’s Vineyard this summer. We always have a wonderful time, and I think you will too.”
“I’m sure we would,” Lexi said with a rueful half grin. “What I’m not so sure of is whether Quentin would agree to go.”
“I know,” Georgina said wistfully. “He doesn’t seem to like us very much. But given what happened in the past, I can’t say I really blame him. I’d probably feel the same way.”
“Me too,” Lexi murmured, polishing off her cookie and brushing the crumbs from her fingers.
Georgina grinned wryly. “My younger cousins can’t stop swooning over him. Last night I overheard them arguing about who Quentin would escort to the debutante cotillion when they come out.”
Lexi chuckled. “Isn’t Quentin too old to be an escort?”
Georgina laughed. “Believe me, they’d make an exception for him. And it helps that he doesn’t look a day over twenty-five.” She gave Lexi an amused sidelong glance. “Is he a good dancer? Does he know how to waltz?”
“He does. His mother taught him when he was younger, and he taught me during college. And, yes, he’s a very good dancer.” Lexi grinn
ed. “I’ll have to send you videos of his old step shows. He was amazing, and he’s still got the moves.”
“Ooh, I’d love to see that,” Georgina enthused. “There are so many wonderful things I enjoy about Greek life, but step shows have always been a highlight. Back in college—”
“All of what? A year ago?”
“No,” Georgina said with a laugh. “I graduated three years ago.”
“Ah.” Lexi grinned. “I stand corrected.”
Georgina chuckled. “As I was saying, I enjoyed performing in step shows as much as I enjoyed attending them.” She grinned. “Now don’t get me wrong. I love watching my suave Kappas twirl their canes, but there’s just something wickedly irresistible about those Que Dogs.”
“Better not let your father hear you say that,” Lexi warned.
They both laughed.
After a few moments, Georgina took another sugar cookie off the plate and bit into it. “So what’s he like?”
“Who? Quentin?”
Georgina nodded, delicately munching her cookie.
Lexi smiled softly. “Where do I begin? He’s incredibly warm and generous, the type of guy who’d literally give you the shirt off his back. On the other hand, he’s ruthless and competitive and he has a brilliant mind, all of which make him a damn good lawyer. Every time I see him in action in court, I get goose bumps. He’s fiercely protective and loyal. He can also be very stubborn and brash. He says what he means, means what he says.” She smiled wryly. “I think everyone got a taste of that last night at dinner.”
Georgina giggled. “Did we ever. I don’t think anyone has ever spoken that way to Grandmother. I thought she was going to have the vapors right at the table!”
“So did I!”
The two women laughed like old friends.
“I’ve always been curious about Quentin,” Georgina admitted after another moment. “He’s the only cousin I’ve never met, and the circumstances surrounding his birth have always fascinated me. The way his mother stood up to her parents to be with the man she loved, even if it meant she’d never see her family again? Wow.”
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