Page 19 of Laying His Claim
There was an exquisite set of knives that looked deadly sharp, and so perfectly made she could balance each of them on the tip of her index finger. She found a set of cast-iron pots that looked well-aged and used. She hefted a skillet and stared into it as if she expected to find answers to the mystery of who she was inside it.
“I guess Jalissa liked to cook,” she murmured.
Justin came to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, she did. Probably still does. Made a career out of it too.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. She replaced the skillet into its nest of packing peanuts, almost sorry it was so well insulated, because she’d have liked to hear it make a satisfyingthunk.
Then came a box of music CDs, ranging from popular hip-hop to sexy, sultry R&B.Bedroom music, was the term that crossed her mind. Frantic, frenetic house music, alternative and trance, ribald dancehall… that told the tale of a woman who liked to party, and party hard.
She thought of how Justin’s sound system back at the house was usually set to play smooth, sophisticated jazz, and modern instrumentals, and how soothing she found their vibe. Had she really been into those loud, crashing melodies?
With each box she opened, she felt as if the storage container had become a time machine, taking her back to a past she didn’t remember, and forcing her to confront a woman she didn’t know.
She glanced up at Justin, who was standing close, looking down at her as she knelt before the boxes. She wished she could read the expression on his face. Since that kiss, they’d been awkward with each other for several days, but things had calmed down after the pool party. They’d become more relaxed around each other, albeit not best buds. What was he thinking? Was he looking on at all the treasures she was extracting from the magic cave of her past and judging the person she had become or the person she used to be?
There were many boxes of clothes. She opened the one closest and began unfolding each item, holding them up before her like she was back in a store, shopping, wondering if they would fit, and, more importantly, if they would suit her.
No, they would not fit, Jalissa of the past had been much curvier, lavishly so, even. But those long months in a hospital bed had taken their toll, and she’d of course have lost some weight. True, Justin was on a campaign to put some meat back on her bones, and she’d been gaining enough weight to not look like someone who’d been confined to a hospital.
But worse, these flimsy scraps of fabric belonged to a stranger. There was no arguing with the labels; it seemed that she always bought the finest of the finest, but the low-cut blouses, micro-mini skirts, tight shorts and sheer fabrics left her feeling a tiny bit shocked.
As for the underwear… well! Teddies and thongs, push-up bras,crotchless panties?Really? She felt heat suffuse her face, a sense of embarrassment, a feeling as if she was invading another woman’s privacy, going through her hostess’ dresser drawers at a party.
She noticed Justin eying the lacy bra she was holding aloft. It was scarlet, studded with diamantes which she was sure couldn’t possibly be comfortable, and had tiny bows on the shoulders which, when tugged, would allow the entire garment to be whisked away. She wondered if he’d ever seen her wearing it or whether he’d ever helped heroutof it.
The flame in his eyes told her he had. Another red flush suffused her dark skin. “Did I really dress like this?” she asked him in wonder.
“You did, and you were beautiful in everything you wore. You cared a lot about your appearance and I loved that about you.” He dropped to his haunches beside her. “The first time I met you, you were wearing a crystal-encrusted leather body-con, with a diamond-shaped neckline. You glowed. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
She searched his eyes to see if he was telling the truth, and when she realized he was, she looked away. He’d fallen for a Jalissa who wore waist-clinchers and gems. Would he—or anyone else—even look twice at a Jalissa who wouldn’t even dream of wearing a skirt that barely covered her thighs?
In disgust, she dumped the bra back into the box, scooped up the other articles of clothing strewn around her, and shoved them into the box; trying to push them down so hard that she wouldn’t be able to lay eyes on them. She realized she was panting, as if she’d been running.
“That’s not me anymore,” she declared vehemently. “Those aren’t my clothes. They could never be.”
“Who you are now is just fine. And your clothes are perfect,” he assured her.
She wasn’t sure she believed him.
Start digging again,she told herself. Maybe you will find the person you are looking for. She homed in on a box that was labeled Personal Items. Justin stood by her side as she pushed back the flaps, but didn’t intervene. She was grateful for this; she was glad to have him there, but for this box especially, she felt that this was something she needed to do by herself.
One by one, she withdrew the items and examined each carefully before setting them down beside her. School reports; high school yearbook; immunization records. Even a little plastic box labeled Jalissa’s baby teeth. This almost made her smile. Her mother had kept everything!
A small framed photo caught her eye: featuring a young, brown-skinned couple embracing each other and smiling at the camera. The man was tall and handsome, smart looking in a three-piece suit; the woman’s wedding gown flowed behind her. They were standing in front of an elaborate five-tiered cake covered with white sugar roses.
In the man’s eyes, in his smile, she saw her own.
“My parents,” she gasped. It had to be.
“Yes,” Justin said simply.
Kaiya had told her that they were dead, and had died while she was quite young, but inexplicably, she missed them. If her mother had been alive, would she have sat by Jalissa’s bedside while she was in a coma, as Kaiya had?
There was a large manila envelope marked Mom and Dad in a handwriting Jalissa had come to recognize as her own. She shook out the contents. There were faded birth certificates, including her own, and a death certificate for her mother: cancer had been the cause of death.
Upon checking the date, she realized that she’d only been ten when her mother died. How had that affected her? Had it been heartbreaking for her? What had it been like, growing up without a mom? How had that helped her become the person she had been, whoever that was?
“Did I remember her?” she asked Justin.
