“Yes, I did the best I could.”
“Then, let it go. Don’t blame yourself for anything. This is the fault of one person, one idiot, who I hope is caught before he destroys someone else’s life.”
“Still no leads, huh?” she asked.
“None that I’ve heard of. I can tell you this much. If they do catch him and he somehow manages to get off lightly, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”
She didn’t respond; only stared at me. “Yardley, promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that you’ll love again.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “That’s one promise I definitely can’t make. I could never love someone else the way I loved Rayne. She was the one; the only one.”
“But you have so much to give to a woman.”
“There’s nothing another woman can do for me. Not now; not ever.”
After everyone else was long gone, I went back to the cemetery to stand over Rayne’s grave. The diggers hadn’t fini
shed covering up her remains. I looked down in the hole where a few of us had sprinkled dirt earlier and finally released all the tears from their prison.
I got down on my knees as storm clouds began gathering above the funeral home tent.
“Rayne, I don’t know why you were taken away from me but I know that my love for you will never die. You’ve taken the biggest part of me with you; my heart. When you look at that diamond on your finger while you’re in heaven, remember. Remember our love. Remember everything we were; everything we could’ve been. For I will always, always, remember you.”
Epilogue
Charlotte, North Carolina
Two Years Later
“Doctor Brown!” I could hear someone shouting my name but couldn’t see them through all the congestion at the baggage claim area in the Charlotte airport. “Doctor Yardley Brown!”
A tall, leggy woman pushed her way through the people waiting patiently for their bags at turnstile C. She was dark-skinned with her hair pushed back in a bun and wore glasses.
“Looking for me?” I asked her when I realized she was standing there glaring at me.
She looked down at a page torn out of a magazine—medical journal to be exact—and back up at me. “I guess this is you in the picture but you look different,” she commented.
I held out my hand. “May I see that?” She handed it to me and it was a picture of me from several years earlier. I barely recognized myself. It was an article I’d written as part of my educational requirements. I chuckled. “I was much younger in this photo.”
She smiled, exposing a perfect set of teeth. “Well, none of us are cheating time.” She offered her hand for a shake. “I’m Doctor Solitaire Baker-Reynolds; an associate of Doctor Thompson’s.”
I shook her hand. “Doctor Yardley Brown, but you knew that much already.”
We both laughed.
“Welcome to North Carolina. First time here?”
“Not at all. Most African-Americans have deep roots in the south; especially North Carolina. In my case, I attended college here. North Carolina Central.”
“True. At least the ones on the East Coast. Have you gotten your bags already?” she asked.
I pointed to the garment bag at my feet. “Yes, I’m all set.”
We walked to the parking garage in almost complete silence. It was strange because our initial words had been so lighthearted and friendly. She was driving a Volkswagen Touareg and I tossed my bag into the back.