“When was the last time you attended an NBA game in Los Angeles?” Quincy challenged her with a look.
Benita hesitated. “I’ve never been to a game.”
“Why not?”
Benita shrugged a shoulder. She stared at what was left of her sandwich. “I didn’t want to go by myself.”
“That makes a difference, doesn’t it?” Quincy stood to leave.
“But you have Ramona. The two of you can tour Philadelphia together.” Just like she and Vaughn could attend an NBA game together.
“That part’s been a lot of fun. But Ramona and I don’t have to live in Philadelphia to explore it.”
Benita mulled that over. The university professor had a point. Quincy and Ramona didn’t have to move to Philadelphia to enjoy the city’s attractions. The City of Brotherly Love was within driving distance of Trinity Falls, albeit a long drive.
“I think Ramona could love Philadelphia.” Benita looked up at Quincy. “Isn’t it worth at least an effort for her sake?” Why couldn’t Quincy and Vaughn at least try the big city lifestyle for the women they loved?
Quincy lifted his tray from the counter. “I haven’t told Ramona that I want to come back to Trinity Falls. I’m waiting for the right time.”
Ramona would probably take to the big city like a duck to water, if given the chance. Growing up, that’s one of the few things she’d had in common with the other woman—an impatience to escape from their small hometown.
“I hope the two of you can work it out.” Benita reached out to squeeze Quincy’s thick forearm.
“So do I.” Quincy’s smile was wistful. Benita could see the love the university professor had for the town’s former mayor. Once again, the pinch in her gut felt like envy.
Benita returned to her lunch, although she didn’t have much of an appetite left. She’d realized the similarities between her relationship with Vaughn, and Quincy and Ramona’s relationship. Ramona had wanted to leave Trinity Falls. Quincy left with her but now he regretted the decision. In contrast, Vaughn was immovable on the subject of leaving Trinity Falls because, like Quincy, Vaughn believed Trinity Falls was where he belonged. All Benita wanted was for Vaughn to give L.A. a real chance. But could she live with herself if like Quincy, Vaughn ultimately regretted it?
CHAPTER 25
Benita pulled into a front-row visitor parking space in the assisted living residence’s lot Wednesday afternoon. She stepped out of her Acura and hurried to the passenger side of the car to assist her great-aunt. But Ms. Helen already had climbed out of the passenger seat before Benita reached her.
The retired chemistry professor stood staring at the building in front of them. “What is this place?”
Benita turned her attention to the sprawling gray and white, wood and stone residence. The architecture combined modern living with Victorian character. A wraparound veranda welcomed visitors. There was whimsy in the stone turrets and wood trusses that crowned the building. A firm spring breeze ruffled the leaves covering the stately maple trees that dotted the well-manicured lawn. Benita had fallen in love with it as soon as she’d seen the brochures.
“This is The Villages at Sequoia Alms.” Benita squinted against the sunlight as her gaze moved over the bay window on the second floor. Natural light must flood that room during the day.
“It’s an old people’s home.” Ms. Helen’s words were stiff.
“It’s an assisted living residence.” Benita searched her great-aunt’s profile. She felt the tension coming off her relative like smoke from an inferno. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“What are we doing here?” The elderly woman’s dark eyes were cold and distant as they held Benita’s gaze.
“I thought we’d take a tour.” Benita sensed the first whiff of unease.
“Why?”
Benita chose her words carefully. “Aunt Helen, I’m not comfortable with you living on your own.”
“Why not?” Some would label it stubbornness. Others would call it determination. Whatever quality helped her great-aunt earn a doctorate in the age of Jim Crow, Benita heard it in her voice.
“You’re getting older.”
“We’ve all been getting older since the day we were born. You’re getting older, too.”
“You know what I mean.” A breeze ruffled Benita’s hair. It carried the scent of new flowers and fresh earth.
“No, I don’t.” The same breeze teased tendrils of hair free of Ms. Helen’s chignon. “Why are you suddenly concerned?”