Authors: Annie Jones
“
Stop right there.
”
He held his hand up, not even looking her way.
“
If you
’
ve come here on my grandmother
’
s behalf, to try to plead with me to reconcile with her before it
’
s too late, you
’
re wasting your breath, Ms. Walker. Let me tell you right now, that is
never
going to happen.
”
“
Never?
”
Dixie tipped her head, folding her arms and straightening her shoulders until her backbone was positively rigid. She
’
d have arched one eyebrow the way characters were always doing in books, if she had the slightest idea how to do it.
“
Excuse me, Mr. Summers, but did you just tell me
never
?
”
“
Oh, boy,
”
Riley muttered under his breath behind her.
“
Mr. Summers, I think you should know straight off that I don
’
t believe in never, not the way you
’
re using it.
”
She reached out and grasped the edge of his desk, just to keep herself from pounding on it in a fit of passion
. “
I believe in never-ending loyalty and compassion, never let them see you sweat, and have been known to utter the phrase
never mind
and even
never again
in certain exasperating cases.
”
Riley laughed.
“
But where somebody I love is concerned, the idea of never trying to bridge the gap between us, never putting my personal grievances aside long enough to make amends for whatever wrongs stand between us, never seeing the eyes that hold only hope and love for me?
”
She raised her chin and pressed the hand that had been on the desk to her chest, fighting to force her voice past the emotional catch in her throat.
“
It
’
s not in my vocabulary, which means I
’
m willing to do whatever I can to erase it from yours, as well.
”
“
Dixie Fulton-Leigh!
”
Fulton
’
s face lighted like the slashes of lightning beyond the window.
“
Why didn
’
t I recognize you the moment you walked through that door?
”
“
Your reputation precedes you.
”
Riley moved around to the seat next to hers, but did not sit in it.
The lawyer shook his head.
“
Not reputation, Mr. Walker, memory. You see, I
’
ve met Miss Fulton-Leigh before.
”
“
You have? Where? When?
”
She tried to place the man
’
s face, his name, his mannerisms, anything that might give her a clue as to what he was talking about.
“
I have to apologize again, Mr. Summers, but I don
’
t recall—
”
“
Oh, you wouldn
’
t.
”
Dixie tensed at what seemed an indictment of her character.
“
I don
’
t see how I would have forgotten meeting Miss Lettie
’
s grandson. Even if our paths had crossed under unfamiliar circumstances, such as for business or something entirely unrelated to our families, the name Fulton Summers would have struck a chord in me.
”
“
I
’
m sure it would have.
”
He met her gaze and the sadness she had sensed in him before seemed harder now, though tinged with a soul-deep weariness...something with which Dixie readily identified.
“
Ironic, isn
’
t it, that I was named to honor the family that tore my own family apart?
”
“
That...?
”
Dixie looked to Riley, then back to Fulton. She struggled to swallow, to keep her emotions in check.
“
If anything, Mr. Summers, I
’
d say just the opposite. The irony is that you were named for the family later devastated by the action of your own father.
”
“
I didn
’
t...I wasn
’
t...
”
He blinked and for that instant his eyes felt to her like eyes she
’
d looked into a thousand times before. Then he looked away.
“
I wasn
’
t thinking about the accident at all when I said that, please believe me. I
’
d never have brought it up like that knowing how painful it could be for you.
”
She could see in every aspect of the gentleman
’
s reaction that he was speaking the truth. Having just dismissed a lawyer who had sought revenge as his parting shot, Dixie appreciated the kind of man that made Lettie
’
s grandson.
“
I believe you, Mr. Summers.
”
“
Since
you
’
ve
brought it up, though, you know that
’
s just what it was, don
’
t you? An
accident
?
”
“
Yes.
”
She barely managed to make herself heard. The little girl within her—the daughter who had lost her beloved mother in that one blinding moment—sprang up then and Dixie battled to keep her beneath the surface.
This wasn
’
t about that night. This was about everything
but
that night. And no matter what
she felt or thought about the awful incident, it had left its scars on the man before her as well. She could not forget that.
“
Mr. Summers, I personally hold no one to blame for what happened, and if it
’
s all the same to you, I
’
d rather not dredge it all back up again.
”
Fulton nodded.
Riley shuffled his boots, his hands clasped in front of him, standing as though he were waiting on the fringes of the conversation. Did he expect an invitation to sit? Or was he feeling some need to stay out of the way? She felt his gaze on her profile, but she refused to turn to acknowledge his curiosity. Not about this.
Instead, she adjusted her strand of pearls, sliding the clasp so that it rested against the back of her neck, and made a quick survey of the room. Matted and framed degrees and certificates hung neatly on the wall behind the desk. Intermixed were newspaper articles that featured Fulton in some way, plaques of recognition from two civic organizations and one marked
“
Coach of The Year.
”
There were photographs of Fulton shaking hands with important looking people and one of a group of girls in uniforms grinning from behind a huge soccer trophy. In all they formed a lovely mosaic of the richness of this man
’
s life. Lettie would be proud...if she only knew.
Fixed again on the task at hand, Dixie sat up straight and took control of the conversation once more.
“
You said that you and I had met before, Mr. Summers?
”
“
Yes.
”
He looked down at his desk, thumped his knuckles on the calendar a few times, and then sighed. When he looked up again, he wore the most sincere smile, but it did not chase away the somberness in his compelling eyes.
“
You were in kindergarten. I remember that because you tried to show me what you were learning in class and, being a seventh grader, the information annoyed rather than impressed me.
”
“
Why do I suspect she persisted anyway?
”
At Riley
’
s comment, Fulton
’
s smile broadened.
“
Of course. The whole time I was at her house she tagged along behind me singing the alphabet song—over and over and…
”
Fulton laughed, just a little then his face grew serious again.
“
The thing I remember most was how you kept asking me to point to things so you could tell me their color.
”
Dixie did not know if it was the word
color
or the way Mr. Summers said it that put her on edge.
“
So I tried to find things that were the strangest shades possible, which wasn
’
t hard to do considering the decorating scheme in your front parlor.
”
“
Some things never change.
”
Riley folded his arms, practically daring her to contradict him.
“
I pointed to an old-fashioned beaded lampshade, some peculiar Chinese figurines, and a piece of modern art that I am at a loss to describe to this day except to say that it sure did have plenty of exotic colors to it.
”
Now Dixie did turn to Riley
“
Aunt Sis had taken up painting.
”
“
Ah.
”
He must have taken this as his cue to fully join them. He pulled back the chair next to hers then settled himself down in it.
“
You rattled off your answers, pink and puce and royal blue—you knew a name for everything I pointed to.
”
Fulton pushed his glasses up.
“
Then I pointed to myself.
”
The air of tension in the room, which had begun to ease only slightly, instantly went so brittle that Dixie thought she heard it crackle like static electricity on a dry, winter day
“
And I will never forget what you said and did then.
”
He leaned forward, his elbows on the desktop. He laced his long fingers together and put his chin on his hands.
“
You said
brown
. And just as quickly I said black right back at you.
Brown
you insisted, and I was every bit as insistent, if not more so. That went on for quite a while until I pointed to you and told you you were white.
And you said
‘
No I
’
m not, I
’
m tan.
’“
“
It sounds like me. I can remember thinking that exact thing, but I still don
’
t recall our meeting.
”
“
I wasn
’
t at your house more than fifteen or twenty minutes,
”
Fulton said.
“
Oh, so it was just a brief meeting?
”
“
Well, I was there long enough for you to be able to go and get your great big crayon box, whip out the black and white crayon and prove your point to me that we were neither one, but more different tones of the same color that you called
brown
. I tried to explain that the world did not see things that way, but you had your mind set. You sure were a stubborn thing back then, one who wasn
’
t much inclined to give up your viewpoint.
”
“
Like I said, some things never change.
”
Riley folded his arms.
Fulton
’
s laugh surprised her. The depth and warmth of his spontaneous chuckle put Dixie so in mind of his grandmother
’
s infectious joy that she laughed, too, pleased to bear the brunt of any joke that broke down these walls, even if just a little bit.
She raised her finger and struck a pose she knew would do their adolescent concept of her proud.
“
I am taking that as a compliment, from both of you.
”
“
We expected nothing less.
”
Riley dipped his head to her.
“
So, this one brief visit was the only time you were invited to my house, Mr. Summers?
”
“
I was never
invited
to your house, Miss Fulton-Leigh.
”
Her good humor came up short.
“
But you said you were there. Your mama, Helen Betty, grew up in that place. I know our mothers were close as kin at one time. I can
’
t imagine—
”