Finding Emma: Chapter 2

Zelda learns some shocking news...

"... and that is why any start-up business needs at least three years to start seeing a return on investment." Professor Isaac Davidson finished his lecture. Davidson was a small, frail man. Everyone guessed that he was in his nineties, but a more realistic estimate would have been somewhere around seventy or seventy-five years old. His thinning hair was white and he wore small rectangular glasses. His face was thin and boney, almost as though he were a skeleton that moved. Most of his students referred to him as Professor D-bag behind his back, but Zelda had always understood the reason he did what he did and didn't hold it against him. She had other people that she had a much better reason to hate, than this old man who was just trying to teach his students some personal responsibility before they went out into the world. 

    "Now, since it's Thursday, it's time for our weekly case study." Davidson said as he checked his watch, "I'd like to show you two cases, and I want you to focus on how they might connect. The first is the case of Mr. David Chancey..."
    Once he started the case files, Zelda tuned him out and went back to sketching in her notebook. She was in the fourth row from the back of the lecture hall, so there was no chance of Davidson catching her drawing. To her left sat Sarah who was busily taking notes, but Zelda remembered almost everything the man said, verbatim, even hours after class. Sarah had always been jealous of her for that, but it came in handy when they were studying for tests. 

    To her right was their friend Mandy Talbert. She was a year below them, but had tested out of the first two business classes; due to elective courses she'd taken her senior year of high school. Zelda was always the gothic girl of the group, always dressed in either charcoal grey, or black with a black leather jacket, her hair was almost always dyed black, and her piercings and tattoos gave her an off-putting appearance. In truth many thought she was beautiful if she actually smiled and looked as though she were enjoying life. 

    Sarah was the glamorous one. She was always wearing the most glamorous styles; often wearing blouses and slacks, or dresses. Her makeup was always done and her hair was always set into a professional, yet seductive style. Minimal jewelry adorned her fingers, and only one set of earrings dangled from her ears. Out of the three of them, Sarah was the one who most looked like a businesswoman. 

    Zelda was often fond of saying that Mandy looked like something that got regurgitated by the eighties. Her hair was always teased, and she always wore a bedazzled jean jacket or jean pants. Her favorite shoes were Converse and she always had the fabulous and colorful eighties make-up done. She was such a walking eighties stereotype that she even chewed gum at every opportunity. If there was a stereotype from the eighties, Mandy often displayed it. 

    Zelda was completely engrossed in her sketch of Sarah sitting on the Iron Throne, but something told her to lift her head at that particular moment, and the sight she was greeted with made her drop her pen. She was staring at a dirty blonde haired woman sitting on the corner of her large desk with her long legs crossed. She wore red slacks with a matching blazer and a white v-necked blouse. A large "C" adorned the window in gold behind her. It was clearly a photo taken for a magazine like "Vanity Fair,” or "Forbes" but that wasn't what struck her. It was her blue eyes, her full lips pulled back in a tight smile that almost gave her dimples, and her long slender figure that made Zelda sit in shock. 

    "Mom..." Zelda whispered before she had realized she'd said it. 

    "Babe?" Sarah whispered, putting her hand on Zelda's arm as her girlfriend remained fixated on the picture. 

    Zelda continued to study the photo before them as Davidson continued speaking. The woman's dirty-blonde hair was speckled with the slightest hint of grey, probably indicating that it had been a while since it had been dyed. She recognized the three earrings in each ear, almost equidistant from each other. 

    "...as you can tell, Ms. Caprini has been doing quite well for herself." Davidson continued speaking, "As you can see from this chart." The slide turned and Zelda was forced to rip her gaze away from the woman who had dominated the screen only moments ago. "Ryleigh Caprini has now become the second wealthiest hotel owner in the country next to President Trump. She has even managed to surpass the Hiltons." 

    Once again Davidson's voice went to the background as Zelda picked up her pen. Her hand was shaking slightly as she put the cap back on the end of it and stuffed it and the sketchbook into her canvas shoulder bag. 

    "Babe? Are you ok?" Sarah asked, her voice still whispered. Thankfully Davidson was so wrapped up in his lecture that he hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to what was happening near the back of the lecture hall. 

    "I... I have to go." She stood up and walked out of the lecture hall leaving Sarah and Mandy staring at each other in complete confusion. 

    Sarah and Mandy continued staring at each other in complete confusion for several minutes as Davidson wrapped up the class and reminded them that their mock business plans were due at the end of the month. Sarah, Mandy and Zelda had all grouped together to work on them. It had been a long process, each of them taking a slice of the work to do independently before Sarah pulled it all together and put it into a perfect little package for presentation. So far everything had been going well and they were ahead of schedule, but in that moment the business plan project was the farthest thing from Sarah’s mind. She quickly gathered her belongings and pushed her chair in before rushing through the crowd of people and ut the door of the lecture hall. Her heart was beating quickly as she pushed through the group of people and down the hall towards the door that would lead her outside onto the main thoroughfare of the campus. The sunlight blinded her momentarily before her eyes could adjust and she saw Zelda leaning against a stone wall in front of the library building smoking a cigarette. Her brown eyes were focused on the screen of her phone, not even moving them when she brought the cigarette up to her lips for a drag. 

    “Zelda…” Sarah said with some hesitation in her tone, “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

    Zelda looked up at Sarah in her light blue silk blouse and dark blue knee length skirt with a pair of white toeless heels. She looked so beautiful the way the sunlight caught her hair in the up-do and almost gave it a gold-like hue. She brought the cigarette up to her lips and took another drag and flicked the ash off the tip, “Sorry, it just.. startled me.” 

    Sarah shook her head, “No.” She said firmly, “You know I don’t push, but I’ve never seen you act like that. What was that woman to you?” 

    Zelda was just about to open her mouth when Mandy finally came out, “What the hell Z?” She popped a bubble she formed with her gum, “I’ve never seen you do that before! What gives?” 

    Sarah watched as Zelda immediately shut the doors she was about to open within herself as Mandy walked up. A quiet sigh escaped the blonde’s lips as she knew that she’d lost her opportunity to learn even more about the young woman she loved so much. 

    “Nothing, I just needed a cigarette.” Zelda said shrugging, “Ya know, when you need one, you need one.” 

    “Mhmm and if I believe that crock story, then there’s a bridge for sale in Brooklyn.” The ironic part was that Brooklyn was where Mandy was from and the accent made that obvious. 

    Zelda flicked the cigarette butt away, and pushed herself off of the wall, “I have to get to journalism, and you two need to get to Mr. Konaski’s marketing class.” She leaned forward and kissed Sarah, “I’ll catch you guys at the DC later.” Zelda turned to leave and Sarah sighed again as she hugged her books and headed back towards the business building while Zelda continued down the side alley that would lead her to the English building and her “Journalism in a Modern World” class. 

    ‘I’ll tell you tonight babe. I’ll be ok. It’ll all make sense soon.” Zelda pressed “Send” on her iPhone before tucking the device back in her pocket and walking towards the class. 

    Dr. Brian Marcou’s Journalism class was one of Zelda’s favorite places, outside of her apartment, and the darkroom of the photography studio. It wasn’t set up like a normal classroom. Instead there were the latest model Apple computers set in wooden cubbies around the perimeter of the room, except along the front wall where the white SmartBoard hung on the wall. In the center was a collection of four wooden tables pushed together to make one large table. Blocky wooden chairs were set around the table which was where everyone in the small class sat before being set off to work on their individual articles. 

    Dr. Marcou ran the class exactly like a real newspaper staff. In fact they did produce a real newspaper twice a semester, and maintained an active website where other articles were posted throughout the semester. It was rare that he would deliver a lecture, but when he did it was more of a discussion than Davidson’s lectures. The students were invited to participate and ask questions and challenge the teacher to gain a deeper understanding of the journalism craft. 

    “Good afternoon everyone!” Marcou said with a smile as he shut the door and set his notepad and small stack of papers down, “I’ve got good news and bad news, which do you want first?” 

    “The good.” Mark Herring announced loudly. He was always the loudest and usually the most energetic one in class. He was a jock and played a number of sports that Zelda didn’t care enough about to learn. All she knew was that for all of his enthusiasm, Herring rarely turned in quality work. Though she knew little about sports, she was confident that if she actually attended a sporting event, she could write a more detailed article about it than Herring often did. 

    “The good news is that there is no lecture and you guys will have most of the period to work on your articles.” Marcou responded, “The bad news for some of you is that we are coming on the last two months of school so I need you guys to pick a topic to do an article on. This will be the last paper of the year. The article needs to be to me for final editing in two weeks. That will give me time to get it back to you after the final edit is done and then we can get it off to the printers.” Marcou said picking up his yellow notepad, “So let’s go around the table. Remember it doesn’t have to pertain directly to the college, but it’s always a plus if it does.” Marcou looked at his notepad, “Becca, what do you have on the food front?”

    “I was thinking of looking into what Sodexo cost the school to run its dining commons instead of turning it over to a work-study program for our culinary students.” Rebecca Hebert replied. 

    “Very good!” Marcou smiled, “I love it! Go! Start researching.” He wrote it down on his paper next to Becca’s name before continuing down his list. He went through seven of the ten students in the class, only pausing to remind Herring that he had to do an article that didn’t revolve around his favorite sports team and that he should consider broadening his views. 

    Zelda had known that this was coming, and had been giving it some thought. She had considered doing an article on the lack of representation the LGTB community had in campus activities. Sure there was the LGTB club which included their allies, but other than that, they were rarely consulted regarding other social activities within the school. Zelda was going to go further and examine how this was a small example of LGTB representation in many aspects of life. However all that had changed in the last five minutes of her Small Business Management class. 

    “Alright Zelda, what do you have for us.” Marcou asked. 

    “Maybe something on how p***y tastes. Maybe it could go under the culinary section.” Herring said laughing. 

    “Nahh, arts and entertainment.” Herring’s friend Ryan Dale responded also laughing. 

    Marcou would normally have reprimanded the students on the spot, but he had long learned that Zelda could handle herself when it came to snide comments like this. 

    “Figures you’d have to read something about that, since you don’t have any actual experience with it. Doubt you could find it with a map if we’re being honest.” Zelda responded with an icey tone, “Maybe I’ll use Bethany as my study subject. I’d say it’s past time she had a good orgasm. Lord knows you could never give her one.” 

    Herring looked like he’d been slapped when Zelda brought his girlfriend into the conversation. He was about to say something when Marcou stepped in, “Don’t get mad at her, Mark, you brought that on yourself.” 

    “Now, if you don’t mind.” Zelda said before turning back to Marcou, “I’m planning on doing an article on the rise of Miss Ryleigh Caprini and her line of hotels that seem to have popped out of nowhere.”
    “A little vanilla for you, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Marcou replied, sounding more than a bit disappointed. 

    “Really? Think of the questions that an article like that brings up.” Zelda responded, “Where did she get her fortune? How did she amass it so quickly? Why build hotels? Why not move to Cancun and build a multi-million dollar estate like most wealthy people do. What sort of message does this send to people who are struggling to make their way in life? If this woman can become the second wealthiest hotel owner in the country practically overnight, then why can’t they?” She paused, “Can you think of a better message for an article to have as one-thousand-two-hundred-and-forty seven young people prepare to graduate and enter the world?” 

    Marcou stood speechless for a moment before smiling, “Alright! I like it, you sold me!” He turned to the class, “And that is how you convince an editor that your article has merit. Remember that you may always be challenged on your articles and you need to be able to defend them.” He nodded, “Alright, go.” He smiled and went on to the last two names on his list. 

    Zelda tuned them out, instead turning her chair around to one of the computers. She opened up her note-book and ran a google search on Ryleigh Caprini. The first thing she checked was an image search to ensure that this woman really was who she thought she was. There was a chance that the photo that Davidson had shown the class had just looked like her mother, but with each photo that she scanned through, candids, paparazzi, and professional photoshoots all showed the same thing. With each image Zelda became more and more sure that it really was her mother. Her stomach twisted as she looked at each one. All this time her mother was alive and she hadn’t come looking for her. Not once had she tried to find Zelda. 

    Zelda let out a long breath and pulled out several articles that had already been written about Ryleigh and printed them out. She also visited the Caprini Hotel Headquarters website and wrote down the phone number, and physical address. It turned out that the headquarters wasn’t too far away, just a short two hour plane ride into Boston would have her at the corporate headquarters. She could pass it off as an expense needed for her article, hiding the real reason for her visit. 

    Zelda felt like she had enough material to get her started. She walked over and grabbed one of the manila envelopes that Marcou always left available for his students and stuffed the papers in there before tucking it into her bag. With that she headed out the door nodding to her professor as she went. She could hear the Herring and his friend groaning that Zelda got to leave early but unlike the two of them who had been checking the stats of their fantasy baseball league, Zelda had actually been researching her article. She may have been researching her article, but this investigation had a much deeper meaning for her.