Ms. Helen’s sigh was long and weary. She closed the cupboard and turned to Benita. “I’ve been expecting her.”
So have I. Benita followed her great-aunt back into the living room. Lana stood to greet her mentor.
Ms. Helen accepted Lana’s hand. “So what do you have to say to me today that you haven’t already said?” She sat primly on the sofa beside her former student, her hands folded on her lap.
Lana smiled, apparently unoffended by Ms. Helen’s crankiness. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to say anything. That I’d arrive and find that you’ve come to your senses.”
Benita grinned. She liked this woman. “I’m afraid the years have only made my great-aunt even more ornery.”
“Don’t apologize for me.” Ms. Helen frowned at Benita.
“Aunt Helen, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Benita crossed the living room to settle onto the matching purple armchair.
Ms. Helen eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t you have clients to check on?”
“Not at this time.” Benita leaned against the chair’s high back. “I’m waiting for a few of them to return my calls.”
Lana shifted toward the edge of the sofa, smoothing the hem of her pleated navy skirt over her knees. “Doctor Gaston, I respect that you’re uncomfortable being the focus of the endowed chair celebration. However, it’s not my intent to make this a flamboyant event.”
“Help me to understand why there has to be an event.” Ms. Helen sounded like an educator, looking to make a connection with a stubborn student.
Lana dropped her gaze. She was quiet and still as though collecting her thoughts. “I was a freshman, the first in my family to go to college. But I wasn’t convinced a degree could do anything for me. Then a black woman walked into my chemistry one-oh-two class and introduced herself as Doctor Helen Gaston.”
That must have been almost twenty years ago, five years before her great-aunt had retired. Benita tried to imagine what that scene must have played like. Aunt Helen, an accomplished, highly intelligent woman in a position of authority, and Lana, a young woman in an unfamiliar environment without any role models.
“Someone like Aunt Helen must have been an alien concept for you.” Benita hadn’t realized she’d voiced those thoughts until both women looked at her. Ms. Helen seemed pensive. Lana looked surprised.
“Yes, she was.” Lana turned back to Ms. Helen. “Seeing you made me realize there were a lot more options for me than I’d realized.”
“When I was a student in the fifties, there weren’t many black women studying for doctorates in the sciences.” A ghost of a smile curved Ms. Helen’s lips. “They didn’t even keep records of us until the late seventies. I’m proud to know there are a lot more now.”
“You were a trailblazer, Aunt Helen.” That realization had never crystalized in Benita’s mind before. How could someone play such a large role in your life without your knowing the impact they’ve had on others?
“I don’t know about that,” Ms. Helen demurred. “But I do know Trinity Falls gave me the opportunity to share my love of chemistry with others.”
Benita stilled. “Trinity Falls has a way of helping a lot of people realize their dreams, even the ones they didn’t know they had.”
Audra had left Los Angeles to make a life here in Trinity Falls. She seemed happier, and the songs she wrote were even stronger. Ean had left New York and returned home, where he opened a law practice to serve his community. And according to her great-aunt, Dr. Peyton Harris had found her true self here. For being a small town, Trinity Falls had a big impact on a lot of lives.
“You did more than share your love of chemistry.” Lana’s statement pulled Benita from her revelations. “There were fifteen students in that chem one-oh-two class. Most of us are now practicing medicine, teaching chemistry, or doing research.”
“I know.” There was quiet pride in Ms. Helen’s voice. “The others have been successful, too: bankers, advertisers. One of your former classmates is now a chef on a cruise line. He’s always trying to get me to take a trip.”
Benita sat up straighter on her chair. “Aunt Helen, that’s an incredible testament to your work. Why haven’t you ever told us?”
“It never occurred to me.” Ms. Helen shrugged. “I’m happy if I helped to spark an interest. But their accomplishments—research, teaching, banking, advertising, medicine, cooking—that’s all on them.”
“You’re too modest to agree to this event in your honor, but Darius told me you’re planning on writing your memoir.” Benita crossed her legs as she set her trap. “Isn’t that contradictory?”
Ms. Helen shook her head. “The purpose of my memoir is to encourage women not to let others’ perceptions stand in the way of achieving their dreams.”
“And that’s what this event is meant to do as well.” Benita smiled as she boxed her great-aunt into a corner. “Isn’t that right, Lana?”
“Yes, it is.” Lana returned her smile. “So how about it, Doctor Gaston? Will you allow us to use you as the example of the qualifications required for the endowed chemistry chair, the chair named in your honor?”
Ms. Helen’s thin shoulders
rose and fell on a sigh. “All right. I’ll allow it.”