'This is fine for now,' I said. 'It really is a good cruller.'
'How about some orange juice or cereal? I got some cornflakes, I think.'
'I'm fine, Jack. Really. Just sit down and drink your own coffee. I don't want to keep you from going to work one more minute,' I said.
He smiled and sat down. 'Coffee's pretty strong, I know. The men like it that way. Bart says it keeps the hair off his tongue. He used to work with my father,' he explained. 'He might sound and look gruff, but he's a pussycat. Thinks he has to look .after me.'
'It's nice having someone who cares about you,' I said, which reminded me of what I had to do. 'I have to call my father.'
'Go on. Use the phone right there.' Jack pointed.
Aubrey answered on the first ring, which immediately sent a chill up my spine. It was as if he'd been waiting right there for my call.
'Monsieur Andreas is asleep, mademoiselle,' he said a low voice, obviously not wanting the other servants to overhear his conversation. 'He had a slight accident late last night.'
'What sort of accident, Aubrey? What happened?' Had Daddy come after me and cracked up his car in that torrential downpour?
'I don't know what time he started up the stairs last night, but he got dizzy and fell, and I'm afraid he broke his right leg just under the knee. It's a small fracture, but the doctor had to set it and apply a cast and give him a painkiller. That's why he's asleep, mademoiselle.'
I knew Aubrey was being kind to say Daddy had gotten dizzy. Surely he had risen from the sofa in his office and, still quite drunk, started up the stairs. 'Does he know where I am?'
'Yes, mademoiselle. He found the note you pinned to him. It was still on him when he fell down the stairs. I heard the commotion and found him there. We got the doctor immediately, and he decided it would be all right for monsieur to remain at home. I took the liberty of calling Mrs. Hockingheimer and she will attend to his needs. I expect her arrival at any moment.'
'That's good, Aubrey. When my father wakes up, please tell him I called and I will call again later today. Tell him . . . tell him my mother is still here and I hope to find her soon. Then we'll both come home.'
'Very good, mademoiselle.'
'Bye, Aubrey.' I cradled the receiver slowly.
'More problems?' Jack asked and I told him. He shook his head. 'A lot has surely fallen on you, Pearl. Sure you want to stay here?'
'I've got to find my mother,' I said and then thought I should call the hospital and ask after Pierre. The nurse at the ICU nurses' station was curt. My brother was still going in and out of a comatose sleep. His last sleep had lasted eight hours, and he had been conscious for less than a half hour. The doctors hadn't seen him yet this morning. The nurse advised me to call back in the afternoon.
My face wrinkled with worry as I sat down again. 'Anything else I can do for you?' Jack asked after I gave him the hospital report.
'No. You'd better get back to work. I'll go visit my aunt Jeanne and then return.' I told Jack where Aunt Jeanne lived, and he gave me directions and drew a small map on a napkin. Then he gave me the trailer telephone number.
'Just call here if you get into any trouble or need anything at all,' he said.
'Thank you, Jack.'
'You look like you could use a good hug,' he said and did it before I could protest, not that I wanted to. He held me close and I laid my head on his shoulder. 'Things will get better,' he promised. 'You'll see. And for good, logical reasons,' he added with a smile. His words brought a desperately needed smile to my own lips, and then I left to see Aunt Jeanne.
Jack's directions were perfectly clear. I arrived at Aunt Jeanne's house a little over a half hour later. Aunt Jeanne's husband, James, was a successful attorney, but her family, the Tates, were one of the wealthiest in the bayou anyway. Her home, although not as large and grand as Cypress Woods, was impressive.
I entered the grounds through an avenue of large oaks and cedars, the canopy of thick leaves and branches casting long, cool shadows over the drive and giving me the feeling I was traveling through a tunnel into another world. Acres and acres of lawns and gardens surrounded the house. A small pond lay off to my left, the water now covered with an island of lily pads. The house itself was a long one-story structure with a gallery that ran across the entire front and one side of the house. French doors connected the front rooms to the galerie.
I parked my car and stepped out slowly. I heard the whir of lawn mowers trimming the grounds behind the house and saw a gardener pruning flowers in a garden on the far right. The flower beds were a-bloom with hibiscus and blue and pink hydrangeas. In the middle of the garden stood a three-tier fountain. Gray squirrels scurried around the gardener, some so close he could have reached out to pet them. He gazed up at me, but went right back to pruning as if an unseen overseer were scrutinizing his work.
The morning sky was streaked with long, thin clouds resembling mist floating over the light blue background, but I could see thunderheads off toward the Gulf, and I surmised that it was raining in New Orleans. As I stepped forward, a pair of cardinals paraded across the gallery roof and paused to look my way. Aunt Jeanne's home was certainly set in an idyllic location, magical and peaceful, I thought. I moved quickly up the steps and rapped on the door with the brass knocker. A moment later the butler greeted me.
'I'm here to see Mrs. Pitot,' I said.
'And who should I say is calling, mademoiselle?' he asked. He was much younger than Aubrey, perhaps only thirty-five or forty, and had light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was slender with a pointed nose and pencil-thin lips drawn taut in anticipation of my response.
'Pearl Andreas,' I said. He nodded and stepped back to permit me to entry. I paused after he closed the door behind me.
