Time Waits for No One

Chapter 15 - Once Upon A Time

November 3rd, 1977

"This is 135th Street."

The droning voice of the subway announcement rang out, pulling Jacqueline out of her daydream, and she shuffled out of her seat so she wouldn't miss her home stop. Her days had blurred together as her cosmetology coursework intensified, each session earning her hours in the ancestral art of washing, pressing, and curling. Stepping off the train, the gritty scents of the station snapped her back to reality, and she headed towards her next destination.

Harlem's autumn unfolded before her, a tapestry of colors and bustling city life. Lost in her busy world, Jacqueline took a leisurely walk to Estella's, attempting to reconnect with her hometown. The twilight hues bathed the brick buildings, and stylish New Yorkers added flair to the scenery. Despite her efforts, the demands of her life had turned her into a transient observer, disconnected from her roots.

In her short walk to the family business, she tried to make the most of her surroundings, literally stopping to smell the New York air and appreciate the land. The change of seasons was so evident, from the technicolor leaves to the fine coats, scarves, and hats adorning the people she walked past. She tugged her own jacket tighter to her body to ward off wind chills as she continued her shuffle to the family business, where her extra hands were needed for the night.

"Birdy!" her father's voice called out as Jacqueline walked into Estella's, breathing a sigh of relief that came from the warmth of being home before she could reply. The warm glow of Estella's pendant lights cast a soft ambiance, illuminating the worn wooden tables and reflecting off polished silverware.

"Hey Daddy," she replied quietly, giving him a mild smile. The patriarch James sat at one of the tables, taking advantage of the quiet time before they opened for the evening to catch up on some paperwork, his inventory orders, and such. The spray of white papers reflected light onto his face, brightening his smile and bouncing off of his crow's feet as he beamed at his daughter.

"How's my baby?"

"Cold." She answered, telling the truth. she replied, her words carrying more weight than a weather report. James observed her closely, noticing both the physical signs of chill and the emotional distance in her eyes. Beyond the hint of red on her cheeks and nose, the drying skin on her lips, and the goosebumps forming on her little wrists, he could see a distance in her eyes that said much more than the dropping temperature was disturbing her.

"I bet. That jacket ain't right for this weather. Why didn't you wear the fur coat I spent a fortune on?" James scolded with a hint of amusement.

"Didn't think it would be this bad." She spoke, finally making it across the room to hug him, leaning down to his chair as his arms folded around her weak puffer jacket. After their embrace, James filled her in on some minutiae about the night; how big of a crowd they were expecting, tasks that would need extra love before opening, and a few notes about some jazz heavies that may stop by. She listened dutifully, but a part of her was distracted, absent within the daze that had consumed her all week long.

As Jacqueline settled into the welcome rhythm of her work, setting up an assembly line on the empty bar so she could effectively create silverware roll-ups. Fold the table napkin, place a fork, place a knife to rest between the prongs, tuck, roll, and repeat. Despite the mundane task, her gaze kept drifting to the calendar—Thursday, marking nine days since she last heard from Michael.

Her attempts to distract herself through routine were futile. Initially, she could excuse his silence; her demanding classes required extra hours for perfecting techniques, and the full swing of The Wiz production demanded Michael's undivided attention. But what started as understandable busy schedules had morphed into a void. Three days of silence, messages left unanswered, and for Jacqueline, self-doubt, worries, and a sense of withdrawal crept in. The absence of Michael's presence, especially amidst the crescendo of his career, fueled nagging uncertainties in her mind. Uncertainties neither of them wanted to confront. It surely didn't help knowing that in her absence, he was busy on set with his work wife. The unspoken tension hung heavy as Jacqueline grappled with the weight of her emotions, knowing deep down that her insecurities and lack of trust about Michael's curious situation with Diana Ross were driving a wedge between them.