Stepping to a New Day Read Online Free PDF Page A

she looked at him and he looked at her, until he finally said, “Um, let me take that bag.”
    As she handed it off, she wondered why she felt so warm. Before she could analyze it his voice brought her back. “When we get outside, will you be okay waiting by the curb while I bring the car around? It’s in the lot.”
    â€œThat will be fine.”
    Once they cleared the doors and stepped out into the chilly early April sunshine, he said, “Be right back.”
    Yes, Genevieve decided, he was very handsome. Maybe even more so than Mal, or Clay for that matter. Thinking about Clay made her realize she needed to make a decision about whether their slow-moving relationship was still viable. Clay was a sweet, lovely man but he seemed to prefer the meek doormat Genevieve that she used to be, and since she didn’t, they were having issues.
    The black town car slid smoothly to a stop beside her. TC got out, opened the door, and held it for her. “Thank you,” she offered quietly.
    Once she was settled, he closed her in, took his seat behind the wheel, and off they went.
    After clearing the airport property, he caught her eye in the mirror. “Some people like to talk while riding, others like silence. Which would you prefer?”
    â€œA bit of both, I suppose.”
    He nodded. “Sounds good. You want music? I found some jazz on one of the streaming channels.”
    â€œThat would be nice.”
    As they turned onto the interstate, Gen listened to the music and mused upon being back in Henry Adams. She had to admit that little Dorothy from Kansas was right: there was no place like home. That also got her to thinking. When a woman her age decides to reinvent herself, living with someone like Marie who used every day to throw a pity party for herself was not her idea of fun—nor was it healthy. Marie needed to deal with her issues, make her apologies to everyone she’d offended and move on, but since she wouldn’t, Gen would be the one moving on instead. The idea broke her heart, but rooming with the cold and silent Marie was like living in a freezer and Gen wanted warmth in her life.
    The station played an instrumental that was so memorableand familiar both she and TC said at the same time, “Haven’t heard this in years.”
    They both laughed. It was Wes Montgomery’s “Bumping on Sunset”—a classic.
    â€œStill sounds good,” TC said.
    â€œYes, it does.”
    They listened with quiet appreciation to the groundbreaking guitar virtuoso who’d paved the way for greats like George Benson, Lee Ritenour, and others.
    When the tune faded away, TC said, “Can you imagine how big he would’ve been in the music world had he lived?”
    â€œIf I remember correctly, he died rather young.”
    â€œYes. A heart attack at age forty-five,” he informed her solemnly. “Tomorrow isn’t promised.”
    â€œNo, it isn’t.” She sensed a sadness in his tone that made her wonder about its roots but she’d never be so rude as to ask.
    A few more classic tunes played: “The Sidewinder” by Lee Morgan and “The Sermon” by organist Jimmy Smith. Her father Nelson had loved jazz. Growing up, she had her Motown and Stax, and he’d had his Blue Note and Verve labels.
    TC’s voice interrupted her musings. “Ms. Brown said you were visiting Washington, DC?”
    â€œYes. My first trip and I had a great time. Have you ever been there?”
    â€œNo. Haven’t had the pleasure.”
    â€œYou should go. I toured the White House. Although going through the security checks was longer than the tour.”
    He smiled at her in the mirror.
    â€œI saw the African American Civil War museum and their beautiful monument across the street. It has the names of every man of color who served in the Civil War.”
    â€œWow. I’d really like to see that. I served in the Army during ’Nam.