Glorious Sunset

by Ava Bleu

  “How could you be easy? You were trying to keep the pain at bay. So you found men who didn’t value you, friends who didn’t care for you; you made a life for yourself void of all the connections that could nurture your heart. I understand, but that is not my plan for you. You are my child. You were made to love and be loved. And your love will be as splendid to you as you are to me.”

  “God, I’m not splendid in any way,” she said quietly. “Didn’t you see what I did? I was going to marry Jerome just to keep him like a Chia Pet. And I was going to do horrible things to Brenda. I mean, she’s a friggin’ size negative two, for cripes’ sake. Why couldn’t you have made me a size negative two? She’s rich. She took Gary. She stole my technique. She has everything. It’s not fair. Can you blame me for wanting to body slam her?”

  “I am aware my enemy takes great joy in providing you with many colorful options for doing away with Brenda.” Violet wasn’t sure but she thought she saw humor on Ani’s face. “But you must be strong. Nothing Brenda does escapes my notice. And it is not in you to do bodily harm to anyone; at least, not much. You have more of me in you than my enemy, this I know.”

  “You’re not mad at me, then?”

  “I don’t ask my children to be perfect. Only my blessed Son is perfect. You may have heard of Him: kind, easy to talk to, and much more patient than I am, I must admit. My human children”—the Almighty shrugged—“are flawed, as I know they will be. But these last few days you cared for a man you didn’t remember, fed him, helped him feel welcome and comfortable, shared your life and dreams with him. You took a former king hardened by centuries of resentment and you nursed his heart to life again. You made him happy to be alive again. Not as the woman he used to know, but as the woman you are today. I know who you are, daughter. You, Violet Jackson, are the only person who could have saved my son. You are more than worthy of Taka’s love. You are more than worthy of anyone’s love. You are the only one who doesn’t know this.”

  Violet grew still and felt the tears well in her eyes. This flew in the face of all she had ever felt possible. Maybe the love was worth the uncertainty life had to offer? Maybe the love would make the difficult parts not so much so? Maybe the love would fill the emptiness?

  “Can you bring Taka back?” she croaked.

  The Almighty shrugged. “Loving is an active job. Love won’t stay where it is not wanted. If I drop a piece of it on the ground it is up to you to pick it up. If I speak to you and tell you, ‘Look, there it is,’ it is up to you to listen. If I point to it and shine a light on it, it is up to you to step out of your fear and grasp it. If you ignore love’s beacon it may not show you the way again. Love is a living thing, Violet. It goes where it is wanted. Do you want it enough to step past your fear and go after it? Do you want it enough to take it as it comes?”

  The breeze against her hair was the only sound in the world as she looked into the face of the Almighty. What He was asking was a greater thing than she’d ever done. She realized now how strong her fear was. And because of that she knew how deeply she loved.

  “I will try with all that is in me to trust in love and trust in you.”

  Ani’s face smiled. “And you will pray? Check in with me and let me know how you are doing? Talk to me even when you are not in trouble?”

  “Yes, yes!” Violet laughed, brushing away errant moisture from her cheeks. “Man, my stepfather wasn’t as demanding as you are.”

  “Of course he wasn’t. He is a good man but I am your Creator. I love you more.”

  That quieted her for a moment and she felt the warmth of emotion flow through her. But she had a few more things to cover first. “When you talk to me, can you talk a little louder so I can hear you? I’m used to ignoring you; it’s going to take some practice to pay attention.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Maybe wave a flag or two so I know it’s you? I mean, I don’t want to be tricked by you-know-who. He already knows I’m easily influenced and prone to sinful behavior. And I know you don’t think I would really hurt anybody, but Brenda may need a little—”

  “Violet.”

  “Yes?”

  “Just try. If not for yourself then for me. Yours has the potential to be one of my greatest romances yet. I would really like it if the two of you would not make a mess of it. You are both stubborn and moody and temperamental and—”

  “Hey, we’re splendid, remember?”

  “Oh yes, that, too.” The Almighty smiled, leaned over, and cupped Violet’s face in Ani’s hands. “Go in peace, my child. The wrong is right again. Say hallelujah.” She leaned forward to kiss Violet’s eyelids one at a time and as Violet lost sense of the world only one word was on her lips:

  “Hallelujah.”

  Chapter 28

  The sound of the tinkling bell in Skeeter’s shop shook Violet awake and she blinked the haze from her mind. She stood in the doorway but had absolutely no idea how she’d gotten there. It took her a moment to notice a weight in her hand and then she glanced down to see a brooch in her palm. Yes, the brooch she’d found earlier today at lunch in Bicentennial Park! It sparkled in her hand, beguilingly. The day’s events came back to her quickly. That’s right: she was here to find out about the brooch but darned if she was going to sell it. It twinkled at her like a wink. She liked it.

  Stepping to the counter, Skeeter greeted her by insulting her and her mama but Violet wasn’t deterred. She saw the greed in his eyes.

  The bell tinkled with the entrance of another shopper but Skeeter was too engrossed in squinting at her jewelry to notice. He looked long and hard and finally straightened up, putting on his poker face.

  “Paste,” he said surely.

  “What? Doesn’t look like paste to me. How are your glasses, your prescription up to date?”

  “Don’t need twenty-twenty to tell paste. I’ll give you . . . one hunnert for it.”

  One hundred, her behind. “Really, Skeeter? You’d do that for me? I don’t know, seems wrong to ask you to come out of pocket for anything, considering it’s just paste.”

  “It’s all right. I know a lady likes to buy up all my junk. She’ll give me two hunnert and everybody’s happy.”

  Humph. Violet knew a con when she smelled it and the old man was smelling like a super-sized con. She glared at him while he stared at the brooch, unable to mask the greed in his eyes.

  “You seem awfully interested, Skeeter. So either you’re handing me a line or there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  His eyes came back up and Violet could see indecision in them.

  “I’m trying to do you a favor, is all. This piece here, I think I may know what it is but it’s nothing but bad luck. Ain’t worth nothing but it sure can cause some trouble. Ain’t nothing. Just give it to me and—”

  “Listen, old man, I have spent much money in this place. I’ve had a long day, all I’ve had to eat is one little hot dog with a little sauerkraut, and my best friend stole my account by stealing my technique. This piece of jewelry is the only bright spot in an otherwise crappy day and I do not have the patience.” She leaned forward to take his cotton shirt in her palms. “You tell me the darned story or I will reach into your spindly old chest, pull out that peach pit you call a heart, and shove it up your shriveled old butt!”

  Skeeter swallowed hard. “Well, when you put it that way . . .” Violet released him and smoothed her hair while he smoothed his shirt. “It’s just a story I heard on my daddy’s knee from his daddy’s daddy’s daddy’s . . . you get the picture. ’Bout this garnet. Way back when there was this African writer guy wrote up all these stories ’bout how people come and killed off his people. Wrote up all these elaborate tales about how wonderful and special his people was, made up a language and everything. People loved them stories but there wasn’t no real sign them people ever existed in the first place. I know ’cause my kinfolk was some of the people he lied on. ’Cause of his lies folks didn’t want to trade with my people, wouldn’
t talk to them, wouldn’t give them no jobs; it was plain wrong. Got people believing them lies, too. They say God was so mad that man lied on all them good people He trapped his soul in a rock and if you rub it and say his name three times old Olufemi will jump out and kill you, just like that man on that movie named after that game, Candy Land.”

  “You mean Candyman?” Violet asked.

  “That’s the one. You say Olufemi three times, see don’t that crazy man pop out of that rock and kill up everybody!”

  “Well, that’s interesting, Skeeter, because that would mean this rock is more valuable than you’re telling me, just as I suspected.”

  “Ain’t no value in it, gal, other than valuable bad luck. I’m trying to do you a favor. One hunnert.”

  Of all the dirty-handed tricks. It wasn’t like they were friends, but she’d given Skeeter good money over the years and here he was trying to scam her. It was the principle. He needed a little comeuppance and maybe he would think twice about scamming Violet Jackson again. She tossed him a nonchalant look.

  “You know what I think, Skeeter? I think we should just test this baby out. I mean, if it’s not the rock you think it is no need to worry, right? Let’s find out!” She tried to blind him with a smile and while holding the brooch in one palm, closed her eyes, rubbed her fingers over the stone furiously, and said, “Olufemi, Olufemi, Olufemi,” so fast she could hear Skeeter’s gasp of surprise. She couldn’t help but smirk. That’ll teach the old cheat.

  “Let me guess,” a deep voice intoned. “Somebody in here is besmirching my name again, huh?”

  Violet opened her eyes and hopped with surprise to see a man standing beside her.

  “Good God!” A yell and a crash as Skeeter dove under the counter.

  “Please get up, sir, and explain this,” the man said, plopping a wooden bowl on the counter. He was tall and broad and his face was a profile in annoyance but that didn’t make him any less attractive. “If I had a dollar for every . . .” he started to grouse and then turned to her and did a double take.

  If she weren’t so cool-headed Violet would have gasped at the impact of looking at him straight on. His face was imposing; too strong in structure and fierce in its scowl to be classically handsome. But it was full of character and animation, strong and proud and sturdy. And his eyes—deep, dark eyes set under prominent brows—were striking. His full, sensuous lips held promise. She was dumbstruck for reasons she couldn’t begin to define. But if she was dumb he was stupefied if the way he was looking at her was any indication.

  “Get out of here, evil spirit!” Skeeter screamed from below the counter, releasing Violet from her trance. She looked down at her brooch.

  “You mean that ridiculous story is true? Man, I would not have guessed that.” Hey, if the story was true . . . “You mean you’re Olufemi? He wasn’t right about that part where you kill up everybody, was he? I should warn you, I’ll put up a fight.”

  His face relaxed and she caught a glimpse of handsome. Why, this man would light up a room if he smiled, she thought. His lips wiggled as if he were coming close to doing just that.

  “I didn’t walk out of that stone,” he said as if the accusation weren’t new to him. “I walked in through the front door while the two of you were preoccupied. Yes, I am Taka Olufemi, the twelfth, and I’ve heard that story a thousand times; it precedes me in certain circles, especially in the U.S.” He glanced down at the brooch in her hand and was transfixed, again. He straightened a little, cocked his head sideways. “Hey, that looks like it might really be the Olufemi stone. I’ll be . . .”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know,” Skeeter said, inching up slowly, obviously ready to duck if the man popped off.

  “I don’t. I’ve never actually seen it, only heard the stories like every other person in my family. It’s legend.”

  “Wait a minute,” Violet said. “You said the story wasn’t true. You said you walked in the front door.”

  His eyes swung up at her again and Violet felt the sweep of his interest, a palpable, intimidating, glorious thing. He looked at her as if gold dripped from her tongue. He gazed at her like she was a precious jewel. His lips curled in a true smile, this time, and her libido cranked up to 425 Fahrenheit.

  “Actually, miss, there are two stories about the Olufemi stone: one is the lie drummed up by the murderers and the other one is the truth, passed down through the generations from King Taka himself. I know the truth. He is my namesake, after all. The truth has nothing to do with a murdering king popping out of a stone to kill people.”

  “He wasn’t no king!” Skeeter cried, indignant. “My daddy’s daddy’s daddy’s, you get the picture, told us all about him. Spreading lies. Ruining good people’s names on stories. My kinfolk had to leave the homeland ’cause they got so much grief after all the lies. Lots of them, run out of the motherland ’cause of crazy Olufemi and the fools who believed him.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” Taka said, giving a wry, dismissive glance to Skeeter. “I’m sure the motherland mourned the loss of families of murderers and liars. And what a gift for the New World, you are.” His face hardened. “I knew I disliked you the second I walked in the door. I heard you trying to cheat this lovely woman out of her valuables. And this bowl right here, $1.99? This is a Jahanian artifact. Number one: you shouldn’t even have it. Number two: you insult my Jahanian ancestors by undervaluing it. In fact, it is an abomination that you even laid hands on it at all. You’re as crooked as your kinfolk, old man. Somebody ought to take you out back and beat the dignity and honor back into you. Back in the day, thieves were dragged around through piles of cow crap until the spirit moved them to find their manhood again. You should be on your knees begging the good Lord to bring that back to you instead of worrying about a man popping out of a stone. But I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Like your daddy’s daddy’s daddy’s, you get the picture, like son. I know one thing: if what you believe is true maybe you should slow down on badmouthing me or my kinfolk in my presence.”

  Violet’s lips itched to curl at the corners. He was passionate and determined. He was fiercely protective of his birthright. He was almost ruthless. He was just her type. Her libido kicked up to 500 but she played it cool. Her libido wasn’t running things; she was.

  He turned back to Violet and just like that his face softened when he looked at her. He leaned an elbow on the glass-top counter to smile at her, but Skeeter was still stinging with indignation.

  “You can’t threaten me! I’ll call the po po on you, boy!”

  “Call the po po, old man. I’d like to hear what they say about some of the items you have in here. That bowl was stolen; it’s likely not the only thing.”

  “What are you talkin’ ’bout? I got that bowl from my cousin who says they mass market those bowls overseas. Ain’t nothing in here stole.” But the man named Taka was once again looking at her and Violet ordered her stomach to cease flip-flopping, despite her overwhelming urge to lean a matching arm on the counter just to sidle closer to him. She resisted.

  “I know his name, and you know my name,” Taka Olufemi said. “What’s yours?” Simple question. She didn’t know why it got the butterflies all jumping around in her stomach. Probably the way he said it, sensual and sexy-like.

  “Name’s Violet,” Skeeter’s gruff voice responded. “To hear the name you’d think she was a nice lady, with a name like that. That’d be a wrong thought. Mean as the day is long. Uncouth and bad rearing, you ask me.”

  “Violet is a lovely name. It suits you. About that brooch in your hand, Violet; the only thing I’ve seen are drawings from years past.”

  “How many years?”

  “Ah, four hundred, give or take a day.”

  “And no one’s found this thing, yet? Let me guess, you want it? I suppose you think this belongs in your family? What are you going to offer me, $125?”

  “I’ll give you $130!” Skeeter countered.

  His eyes told the truth. “We
ll, legend says it’s supposed to roam free to find its owner. And there’s always the museum where his journals are preserved; they would probably like it to go along with the other things.”

  “Ain’t no things, it was a lie I told you,” Skeeter groused.

  “Well, somebody needs to tell the people restoring the artifacts they found last month. Broke ground to build a shopping mall and, lo and behold, they discover, oh, only a couple thousand pieces of artifacts and a burial ground with the remains of a couple hundred people. Just like the Olufemi journals claimed, just like the other fools in the region believed. The hidden burial ground of Jaha. Go figure. Turns out the stories weren’t just stories, after all.”

  “That’s impossible! That can’t be!”

  “Mr. Olufemi,” Violet interrupted Skeeter’s blathering. “No point in this small talk. If the brooch was stolen I will inform the police that I found it, in full sight of a hot dog vendor in the park. As compelling as your story is, I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what you want and you’re not going to get—”

  The chirping of her cell phone stopped her intended rant cold and she walked away, briskly, fishing her phone from her purse and putting it to her ear to hear her boyfriend Jerome’s annoying voice. Two seconds into the conversation and she was sorry she did.

  “What do you mean you want part ownership of my company? Are you insane?” Violet couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Marriage and a prenuptial? Minor cost and doable. Sharing part of a company she had built from the ground up? Priceless. Impossible. “I don’t care what you’ve been thinking.”

  “But it’s like you said,” Jerome continued. “We’ll be getting married anyway. What’s yours is mine and what’s . . . You know how it goes. Look, why don’t we talk about it tomorrow? We got that dinner with Brenda and Gary, so we’ll talk about it before that. And try to wear something cute so you don’t look heavy next to Brenda. Not that green dress; shows too much cottage cheese. You know, you could lose a pound or two. I’m just sayin’.”