money we owe him. He wants it now!”
“Who said he isn’t going to get his money? We’ll repay him.”
“Oh, sure. Maybe we could rob a bank or something. Some other bank besides his, that is. You are out of your mind.” The phone rang and he strode across the room and grabbed the receiver. “Hello? Yeah, sure. She’s right here.” He held it out to me like it was contaminated. “It’s for you.”
“Who is it?” He rolled his eyes and said nothing. I took the phone. “Hello?”
“What’s up with Mr. Congeniality?” Kit said. “I think I just got frostbite.”
“Fine, thank you,” I said. “How did those tests go with your mother?”
“Can’t talk while he’s there? Figures. How about meeting me later at the Goose Creek Bridge? Nine o’clock. You can fill me in.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ve got a bottle of something new I can bring. Have you ever tried Mexican wine?”
“Uh, no. Why don’t you let me take care of that?”
“Sure. I’ll save it for another time, then. See you.” She hung up.
“Take care of what?” Eli asked. “If you were talking about her mother, then I’m Frank Lloyd Wright. You’re seeing her, aren’t you?” He rocked back and forth on his heels.
“She’s a friend.”
“She’s a
“Who gives you advice inside that head of yours besides the Easter Bunny and Tinkerbell? You think she still carries a torch for you? Get over it, Eli.”
He shook his head. “You are so naïve. And you are meeting her again. Aren’t you?”
“So what?”
“Let me guess.” He smirked. “An alumni reunion of the Goose Creek Bridge Chapter of Juvenile Boozers Anonymous. See? I knew it!”
“We were not boozers. And how did you know about that?”
“Kit told me when we were, ah, seeing each other. I don’t know how you pulled it off.”
“We didn’t pull it off completely. Dominique told me once that Jacques knew. She said he watered the wine before I took it.”
He laughed, but there wasn’t any mirth in it. “Good old Jacques. Not much got by him. At least it didn’t if it involved me.”
“What does that mean?”
“I caught hell for everything. But you—jeez—you could have tap-danced on top of the fermenting barrels and he would have thought it was cute.”
“I hung around while he worked. Unlike you.” I paused, then said, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
“Is it about money?”
“No. Something else. Do you remember Mom’s gardening journals?”
“Vaguely. Why?”
“Fitz told me before he died that Mom kept diaries. Personal diaries. I said he was mistaken until I looked through her gardening journals. She didn’t just keep lists about her plants and the gardens. She wrote about us, too. And some other things.”
He bent and brushed imaginary lint off his shorts. When he straightened up his eyes were bland. “You mean her gardening journals were also her diaries?”
I nodded.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Fitz wanted to burn them. He wouldn’t say why and he got mad when I asked him. I think it was to protect her. There was something between him and Mom, wasn’t there?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw and he looked beyond me, his mouth compressed into a tight line. “Yeah,” he said finally. “There was.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“I got up for a glass of water one night as he was sneaking out of her bedroom. He never saw me.”
“You never told me.”
“What in the hell was I gonna say?”
“The journal from the year Mia was born is missing. All the others are in the bookcase in Mom’s study.”
“Are you sure it’s missing?” He sounded calm, but he folded his arms and began drumming his fingers on his forearms like he was playing Grieg again. “Maybe she didn’t keep a diary for a while.”
“Maybe. But I doubt it.”
He stopped playing and steepled his fingers. It looked like he was praying. “Let’s not borrow trouble, shall we? We’ve got enough problems without wondering about things we…”
“I know. I know.”
He glanced at his watch. “Good Lord. I’m six minutes late to give Brandi her vitamins. I’ve got to go.”
“Can’t she take them herself?”
“She likes me to give them to her,” he said, picking up the Filofax as he fished in his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Look, I want you to destroy those damn diaries just like Fitz said. Have a bonfire or something. And we still haven’t finished our conversation about this mess you’ve created by refusing to sell. I don’t want to play hardball, Lucie, but there are ways of forcing you to do it.”
“Like what?” Someone tried to force Leland to sell and he was dead.
“I’m talking to Mason,” he said. “Getting some legal advice.”
“You’re going to sue me?”
“I don’t know. I just said I’m looking into it. And while we’re on the subject of family relations, I’m really worried about Brandi and the baby. She’s not sleeping well or eating right. It’s not good for the baby’s health.” He paused and added, “Her problems started just after you came back.”
“Meaning what? My being home is the reason Brandi isn’t eating or sleeping? Are you serious?”
He looked pained. “Lucie, I’ve already told you how much this baby means to us. Brandi knows you don’t like her and it bothers her. She shouldn’t be upset. If you take the place in Grasse it works out well for everyone, you included. See what I’m saying?”
Love may be blind but in my brother’s case it was deaf, dumb, and arrogant. I leaned on my cane. “I’m sorry she’s not feeling well. During a pregnancy hormonal changes can make someone very emotional and that’s normal. If she’s not eating or sleeping, maybe you ought to take her to her obstetrician for a checkup.”
“This isn’t some hormonal thing.” He glared at me. “It’s real.”
“Then you’d definitely better see the doctor.”
“I’m warning you, Lucie. If anything goes wrong…” He turned on his heel and left, slamming the front door.
After he drove off I climbed the stairs even more slowly than usual and took a long shower and brushed my teeth good and hard. I was clean, except for the taste of bile that stayed in my mouth no matter what I did.
Chapter 18
The stone bridge at Goose Creek was built as a turnpike bridge in 1802 during the presidency of Thomas Jefferson. One of the last four-arch bridges in Virginia, it was also the longest one remaining from that era, measuring two-hundred feet in length. It was the site of a Civil War battle, a choke point for the Confederate Army, which, under Jeb Stuart, tried to delay Union troops in order to give Robert E. Lee more time to continue his advance toward Pennsylvania. Ten days later, the two armies met at Gettysburg.
