Chapter 9 Dillon's Stand

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A 70 mile an hour wind blew against Jet and Sloan as they traveled down the freeway on Nora's Harley. It was exhilarating and cooler than she expected. She was glad that Jet had persuaded her to wear a jacket. Her arms were like a vice around his waist, and she loved the fragrance of sandalwood from Jet as the wind swept across her nose. As Sloan looked about, she was amazed at all the new construction in the city and the endless miles of new freeway that looked like strands of spaghetti in a pasta bowl. Atlanta was one of the most beautiful cities in the South. Tall glass skyscrapers pierced the clouds, the magnificent gold dome from the capitol shimmered against the setting sun, and the entire skyline was coming alive with lights.

They were headed to Piedmont Park for the Atlanta Jazz Festival. It was a major event in the city, and people traveled for miles to be a part of it. When they arrived, no one had to give them directions; the smooth melodies led the way. Jet followed the sound to the nearest parking lot. It was packed out. He was glad he'd taken the motorcycle, because it could be parked practically anywhere. They dismounted and put their helmets in the side compartment, removing a blanket.

Jet took Sloan's hand, and they made their way through the masses. There were people as far as you could see, either stretched out on the grass on blankets or sitting in lawn chairs. The air was filled with the aroma of fried foods coming from vending trucks strewn along the paths. Jet stopped and bought drinks and smoked turkey legs. They found a place to spread the blanket near the side of the stage. This gave them a great view and helped them to get closer to the stage than the masses. The blare of saxophones and thumping bass had many people on their feet dancing. When they sat down, Sloan took out her cell phone and took a selfie. Jet borrowed the phone and took a better one, with him landing a kiss on her cheek. He slipped the phone back in her jacket pocket.

She tucked herself between his legs and leaned against him. He buried his face in her curly, black hair, loving the smell of wild roses. His arms slid around her waist, and he sighed, feeling so complete in her presence. It wasn't long before he was planting kisses on the side of her neck and nuzzling her shoulder. "I'm glad you're here with me," he whispered. "Do you love me, Sloan?"

She shook her head no. Though they teased each other in moments like this, his heart really did want to hear her say that she loved him. Perhaps for now he'd just have to settle for her saying it vicariously to her massive radio audience. For a moment he allowed her voice to fill him—I do love Jet. But he adored it when she turned around and slipped her lips over his. He didn't mind it at all when she gently pushed him back on the blanket and consumed him as if no one else was there.

***

Robert was so disappointed that Nora wouldn't pick up her phone and speak with him. He'd tried calling several times that week. His heart ached for her. She did manage to send him a simple text that said I'm not ready. To which he replied, Please tell me it's not over. There was such a long pause between his message and the one that she sent back that Robert felt as though his heart had been ripped out in an Aztec ritual and that his body lay bleeding to death on a cursed altar.

Only if you tell me that you found the person that I fell in love with.

"Oh, God!" He fell on his knees next to his bed, grateful for the ray of hope. I'm trying to find him, Nora, and I'm very close. I cannot possibly exist without you. He didn't expect her to say anything back, so he ended the messages by saying, I'll be home soon.

Robert cried. He sat down on the floor and cried. There were many reasons for his tears, but none more painful than thinking about living the days ahead of him without Nora. He remembered the first time they'd met. It was at a peach-picking contest at a church his family had recently started attending. The church sat in the middle of a peach orchard. The harvest was always so bountiful that they needed as many people as possible to pick the peaches. After the harvesting, the church sold them to local grocery stores in the area. The proceeds went to feed the poor. Whoever picked the most got tickets to the Six Flags over Georgia amusement park and dinner for two at a restaurant of their choice.

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