Calista's heart skipped a beat upon seeing her daughter in Dominique's arms. With a worried expression on her face, she opened the door. Her eyes glanced about nervously as she inquired, "What happened?".
Dominique hurried inside while still holding me. "We were being trailed," he clarified while placing me gently on the sofa. "Despite my best efforts, I was unable to identify the person who was trailing us. She must have fainted from the anxiety."
My mother hardly paid attention to what he said because she was so focused on me. Her immediate concern was to revive. She bent down next to the couch, checking my pulse and breathing.
Dominique watched as she hurried to the kitchen, grabbed a cold, damp cloth, and gently dabbed on my forehead. She slightly raised my leg to increase blood flow to my brain. "Come on, my love. Return to me," she murmured, her voice soothing.
After a tense few minutes, my mother sat back, her eyes filled with tears of frustration and worry. "We'll just have to wait for her to regain consciousness," she said quietly.
Calista's demeanor changed abruptly as she remembered something essential. She shifted her attention to Dominique. "Did you get the car's plate number?" she said, her voice filled with both urgency and optimism.
Dominique nodded, his expression unwavering. "Yes, it was clearly in my line of sight, and I still remember it."
Calista reached into an adjacent drawer and pulled out a notebook. She gave him the book and a pen and said, "Write it down."
Dominique grabbed the notebook and wrote down the plate number. Glancing at the entry, Calista's mind was immediately racing with ideas of how to find out who it could be. But for the time being, she was mostly worried about Izalea.
As the minutes ticked by, my mum stayed beside me, holding my hand and whispering words of comfort, hoping for when I would open my eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally began to come around, I woke up lightheaded, my vision was blurry at first but slowly came into focus, and I saw my mother's relieved face. "Do you feel better, sweetheart?" she asked.
I managed a weak nod and hugged her tightly. "Mum, I was so scared by the text messages you sent. I thought you were in danger."
She stroked my hair trying to calm me down. "No, darling, I'm okay. I was worried about you, especially with all the controversial comments in the media. And I was terrified that your father and the Gabby's would find us."
Taking a deep breath, I started to explain. "Mum, on the way here, we were being followed. I thought it was James," I said, referring to my father.
Her face stiffened with fear, hoping they hadn't been spotted. That might be risky for us, particularly her. She countered, "That's not possible, James is very strategic, he would take his precious time to strategize and plan."
Her face stiffened with fear. "From Hawaii?"
"He could have found us sooner than we think," I replied.
"You were just a child. He loved you so much; he would never hurt you. He wouldn't come after you unless he wanted to see you again," she said, trying to reassure me.
"But what about you, Mum?" I said, my concern growing. "Mum, it's been fifteen years. We can't be sure of anything. A lot could have changed, and I barely remember what he looked like anymore. We can't take any chances. We need to move."
She shook her head. "Move? So, what about my job? I worked quite hard to get the position. It pays nicely, and I don't have to depend on you for bills."
"Mum, we're talking about our safety," I insisted. And you know I can look after you and everything else".
My mother had always been uncomfortable with me handling her bills. She obtained a job to retain her independence over time. She answered with disappointment, "I warned you about going into acting; it was just too dangerous for our safety, even with the cosmetic surgeries, look now."
"Mum, why bring that up now?" I said, frustrated. "I know something is odd. It's all very suspicious."
Dominique, the trusted driver who was aware of their circumstances, listened in silently. "Ma'am Izalea," he pointed out, "To be sure, try to call in and report the car."
"I didn't take note of the car's plate..." I grumbled.
Dominique interjected, "I have it written down here."
Relieved I reached for the book. "Thank goodness. I'm not sure what I'd do without you, Dom."
I contacted 911 and was quickly connected with a police officer. "911, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, I'd like to report a suspicious vehicle that was following us. My name is Izalea."
"Can you provide the plate number of the vehicle?"
I read the number on the note Dominique had given me. "Thank you. Let me check the details," the officer responded. After a brief pause, he said, "The vehicle you mentioned belongs to a secret spy. Could you please clarify why they might be following you?."
I was taken by surprise. "I was hoping you could tell me."
The officer replied, "We will check it further. Stay safe, and contact us if you observe anything else unusual."
"Thank you," I said, hanging up the phone. I looked at my mother and Dominique, my mind racing with new anxieties and unanswered questions.
"It was a secret agent," I declared, my voice tainted with confusion and fear. "He couldn't provide more information but I'm suggesting it might be related to the scandal."
My mother exhaled with relief. "Well, it's better than our worst fears. Please look into it and keep me updated."
I nodded. "Yes, mum. I will let you know. We need to make a decision."
She placed a calming touch on my shoulder. "We will decide soon. Now, both of you, get comfortable. It is too late to drive back. When you're done changing, come get something to eat."
I had a room at my mother's apartment with a few clothes for my overnight stays. Always prioritized comfort, I often wore oversized t-shirts and shorts. Before we had our baths, I gave Dominique one of my big shirts and shorts to change into.
My mother smiled warmly. "Jazlyn, at least your oversized clothing came in handy today." She said while setting the table for dinner.
I grinned. "I know, right, Mum?" We both chuckled as Dominique, attempting to hide his shyness, joined us at the table.
"It suits you," I whispered to Dominique.
"Enjoy your laugh; I knew you had this planned. Ma'am, purple?" Dominique responded with a humorous look.
I giggled as we both walked to the dining table. Before beginning the meal, we shared a short prayer. Dominique tasted the flying fish, and his eyes widened with delight. "Oh, mon Dieu, délicieux!" he said in French. "Home-cooked meals are certainly the best."
My mother and I exchanged puzzled looks before laughing. "What?" I asked, still chuckling. "But honestly, Mum, this is great. I always enjoy your cooking."
Calista glowed cheerfully. "You're always welcome, honey."
The supper included a traditional Bajan dish, Cou-Cou, as well as a national favorite, Flying Fish. We continued eating, enjoying the delicious flying fish and cou-cou.
"The flying fish is tender," Dominique said, taking another bite. "And the cou-cou is perfectly seasoned," he added, inhaling deeply.
I expressed my agreement. "Yes, Mum. Every bite brings me back to my childhood."
"I'm glad you both are enjoying the food," my mother said cheerfully.
The combination of textures and flavors of the meals created a sense of comfort and nostalgia, making the supper even more memorable. The laughter and conversations helped relieve the anxiety from the day's events. Despite the impending uncertainty, we found solace in each other's company.