Elegant Emma Trent

By Suzanne A.

The mystery surrounding Emma's birth and Aunt Lou's frequent secret conversations with this phantom caller fueled Emma's curiosity regarding her birth and true identity. At times Emma's curiosity was so great that it tormented her. Not knowing the whereabouts of her parents left Emma feeling lonely at times. Her only solace was getting immersed in books, where she was able to assume any character she wished and fabricate imaginary relationships she so desired.

Although, Aunt Lou has always been there for Emma, not having her biological parents at her graduation stirred emotions that left Emma confused. The bizarre events during her celebration lead to her meeting "KJ", who later becomes her savior and mentor. Emma's lack of identity and being at the wrong place at the right time is the key to her relationship with KJ.

One day while gazing through her window, Emma noticed an elegant lady sitting on the park bench. Emma, a fashion designer at heart, is attracted by the lace on the lady's blouse. At first glance, she appears to be an elderly lady from a wealthy family. However, seeing her repeatedly, Emma wondered if she had any family, or friends to call her own. Or, was the park her secret place where she could feel free to be herself.

Emma's obsession to become a successful fashion designer by age 30 was so overpowering that it left her senseless. The only way to feel relief was to escape into her world leading her into many

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: May 6, 2008
• ISBN: 9781426991714

Suzanne A.

Suzanne Glassé, born and raised in East London, to Jamaican parents dreamt of a perfect marriage. She used the time after graduating from school, until her late 20s, to establish her career and prepare herself for family life. It came as a shock when Suzanne found herself a single parent, in another country away from family and loved ones at age 30. If it had not been for prayers and her strong spiritual foundation she may not have endured the dark period in her life. Using the skills learned in school Suzanne was able to establish her career and provide financial support. Realizing she is the role model for her daughter, at age 43 she overcame her fears of studying and went back to school to pursue her bachelor's degree. During Christmas, while visiting her parent's home in England, Suzanne fell down the stairs and broke her leg. Bed ridden for four months gave Suzanne time to reflect on her life, her aspirations, and the direction her life had taken. Being the middle child out of nine children, Suzanne would use writing poetry and changing the lyrics to songs to entertain herself and her siblings. As the family entertainer everyone laughed when she said she wanted to be a famous author when she grew up. Always, "Look at what you want to do, challenge yourself, put the past behind you for you cannot live the same day twice, find comfort in the present and embrace the future." Suzanne A. Glassé

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CONTENTS

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

One

Every day, rain or shine she sits there, waiting. What is she waiting for, who is she waiting for?

For the past ten years Emma has parked her car in the same designated spot, facing the bench where she sits. It is not possible to miss her. Day after day as Emma pulls up, there she is looking at her, despite the fact they have never exchanged words. Sometimes she’ll give a wave and bow her head to the side as though she is shy. More often than not, she has no bags, just a purse she keeps on her lap. She’s not the dirty, begging, usual foul-smelling, homeless woman, no, she’s tall, sandy brown hair, clear complexion, not sure whether she’s black, white or mixed race. She wears tinted glasses and pale colored lipstick, which gives a sheen to her small lips. She always wears her hair pinned up much like a French twist and dresses in high-collared, lace-trimmed blouses. Emma notices each day she wears a different lace blouse, recognizing the different lace patterns on the sleeves and neckline. They are not cheap, neither are the slacks she wears and moccasins. Some days she’ll wear a silk shawl thrown over her shoulder.

Office employees love to gossip. Some mornings when in the elevator there was gossip about the woman on the bench. Some said she had millions and her husband stripped her of everything she owned, but then again, maybe she blew it on drugs and rehab programs. There was one who said she had a child and her husband’s mistress stole the baby, so he had her committed on the grounds that she was crazy, but despite all this, no one knew anything for sure. Whoever she is or was, she never lost her dignity to carry herself well.

On the days that Emma really notices her, she reminds her of a lady sitting watching the kids playing in the park, or something. Whatever rumors are true or false, she is a beautiful lady. Emma went one step further and thought ‘elegant’, that’s the word, an ‘elegant’ lady. Emma wondered if she had a family, friends, anyone, or did the bench remind her of a different place and time?

When at home, the lady on the bench does not enter Emma’s mind, so she guesses it is true what they say, ‘Out of sight, out of mind’.

Emma is so caught up with work and family ties, thinking about her thirtieth birthday tomorrow, and what to do that’s not offensive to Aunt Lou. Oh, you have to meet Aunt Lou, Emma’s mother’s older sister-beautiful woman, tall, medium frame, golden complexion-you would never believe she was black, until she opened her mouth sometimes. She has loose curled hair full of bounce in shades of brown, hazel eyes and a smile that would brighten any room, her laugh is so contagious. She spends a lot of time back and forth from England, so she has a slight, well-spoken British accent. She cares about Emma’s well-being, which sometimes Emma thinks twice about, but having no children of her own Emma is her niece and daughter. Emma has no siblings, at least on her mother’s side anyway, and her father, well, that’s a different story entirely.

Emma often wonders if her mother would be proud of her. She left when Emma was two or three. Everyone has a different time when she left; Aunt Lou doesn’t talk about her, Aunt May constantly puts her down and Aunt Gracie, well… Aunt Gracie just stares, you know, she wants to say something, but doesn’t. There are no pictures, no letters, no documents on either of Emma’s parents; no one seems to know if they’re dead or alive. Emma assumes her father is still alive, on account of the fact that Aunt Gracie slipped up one day while they sat around the dinner table having Sunday dinner on Emma’s sixteen birthday, fourteen years ago.

I saw Mint last week; he’s now CEO of-

Aunt Lou interrupted in her passionate voice with that well-spoken British accent.

Gracie, can you get the bread out of the oven, please, it seems I may have forgotten it?

Emma knew that was Aunt Gracie’s cue to shut up, because the look Aunt Lou gave her was… well, you know. Mint was never mentioned again, but Emma figured he was either her father or had something to do with her and lived in the area, or near, where Aunt Gracie lived. Emma didn’t pursue asking any questions about him, she just let it go.

Aunt Gracie lived just under four hours from Aunt Lou, and Aunt May lived two hours away from Aunt Gracie, why so far apart was beyond Emma. Well, maybe my mother took it one step further and left the state all together, Emma thought.

Emma shook herself out of this daydream and walked toward the window. There she was, still sitting there on the bench staring at something in her hand. From a distance Emma could not see what it was, and when she held it close to her heart she just knew it was something special. The windows to the office are tinted and Emma knew the woman couldn’t see her, but sometimes she got the feeling she was watching her and that she could see her through them. Emma didn’t know why, after ten years, she would be remotely interested in this lady. Yes, she admitted to herself, I admire her and have noticed her attire on many occasions, but I’ve not even so much as bought her lunch on a rainy day. I say good morning in passing her to and from my car or sometimes just wave, and in the evening I do the same, just a wave, bye. Emma caught herself thinking strongly about the woman on the bench again. What was so special about today?

Emma moved away from the window and walked back toward her desk, as her assistant knocked on the door, brought her morning coffee and placed it on the desk. As usual, KJ would join Emma and they talked about the soaps from the previous night, mainly taking notice of the different designer gowns the characters wore and comparing notes for their own line of fashion. This had become a ritual for both of them to start the morning right.

Emma made mention of the lady on the bench to her assistant, KJ, quite casually, so she wouldn’t get all wound up on her and give her the crazy look.

Have you ever noticed that lady on the bench, KJ? Emma asked, ever so subtly.

What about her? KJ said nonchalantly.

Oh, nothing.

Emma was holding the cup of coffee in both hands, staring into space. KJ pulled her chair closer and sat in front of Emma after putting sugar and cream in her coffee. The way she pulled up her chair, slowly, and brushed the top, meant get prepared for a motherly talking to and forget the soaps.

KJ spoke with a ghetto tone, staring into Emma’s eyes.

Okay, I’ve been your assistant now for ten years, don’t you think I know when something is bothering you? Spill whatever it is, now.

Emma responded with agitation, still holding her coffee.

I don’t know.

Well, why don’t you try talking about it, are you still confused about your sexuality, Emm? KJ said in a low, soft concerned voice, tilting her head to one side looking at Emma.

No, girl, Emma said, sounding black, which she had tried so hard not to do, almost spilling her coffee.

It was not that she was ashamed of who she was, but because Emma loved being Emma; a sophisticated black woman.

KJ paused, looked at the window, pushed the chair back and stood up looking at Emma with attitude.

Okay then, what?

Emma looked at the window, sending KJ into a frenzy and causing her to walk toward it.

I know you don’t want to invite that homeless lady to your house and feed her then find out she has fifteen kids, collects welfare and has fifteen baby daddies who work the streets.

KJ did not stop for air; with hands on hips, and swinging her right hand from left to right clicking her fingers, sounding and acting real ghetto (okay… she, I mean, was!). Emma looked up at the ceiling.

God, I know you sent KJ to me for whatever reason and I haven’t regretted it since, but, Lord, maybe after this conversation if she doesn’t go back to being a refined black woman, I’m going to have to rethink that. Emma thought silently. It has nothing to do with my sexuality, she said, responding to KJ’s question before her ghetto mentality stepped in, surprised KJ would think that of her, knowing her past.

Although she did have a hard time coming to terms with her sexuality, she had finally realized she only liked women as friends and assistants, not partners or lovers. KJ made her come to terms with that when they first met. Emma voiced her sexuality opinion clearly to KJ so there would be no confusion, and the question wouldn’t be asked again, however, she didn’t think it had really sunk in.

KJ walked back and sat in the chair across from Emma, leaned back in the chair looking at her, shaking her head.

Then what is it? I know you’re thirty tomorrow, and Emma, I would love to be you right now! KJ paused, followed by a sigh then she quietly described Emma’s features and position. Tall, medium frame, honey complexion looking like a doll, long wavy hair almost naturally blonde, green eyes, a beautiful smile, educated with a Bachelors and a Masters all before your twenty-first birthday. Vice president of this wonderful design company and single, what could you possible be thinking about? Your mom, Ms. Lou, I hope she ain’t sick, is she?

KJ, Emma said, irritated by her incorrect grammar. "It’s isn’t sick, and no, she’s fine. Emma paused for a second then whispered, I never mentioned this before, but, Lou is my aunt, not my mother."

Holding her head down, Emma felt a little embarrassed keeping that away from KJ, knowing they have grown so close over the years. KJ walked around to Emma’s side of the desk and reached to hug her from behind the chair, instead she gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

Is that what’s bothering you, you felt you needed to be open with me about Lou? Don’t let that worry your pretty little head, I forgive you. Before going back to the other side of the desk, KJ patted Emma’s shoulder twice and continued speaking whilst walking toward the door. Let’s get back to work, Emm, we have deadlines to meet, we’ll talk about your real mom another time, when you’re good and ready.

Closing the door behind her, KJ left the office, leaving Emma still perplexed. Emma, still confused as to why she was feeling that way, needed to know what KJ felt about the woman, or she wouldn’t rest for the day, so she called KJ back to her office and asked her to take a seat.

If you’re firing me, Emma Trent- KJ said, before she sat down, waving her hands and acting ghettoish and defensive, but, before she could go any further with the drama, Emma stopped her.

Wow, what happened to Emm? Using my entire name… and no, I’m not firing you, Emma said, getting the record straight before continuing. I just want to know how you feel about something or someone.

The smile returned to KJ’s heart-shaped face. Sometimes she could be so defensive from out of the blue, and Emma could never figure her out. KJ was of medium height, small framed, chocolate complexion, dark brown eyes