"Where is she?"
"Upstairs, waiting for you in Pearl's nursery."
I hurried into the house, practically charging up the stairway to find Mrs. Flemming sitting in the rocking chair, her face white, her lips pale. Pearl was asleep in her crib.
"What is it, Mrs. Hemming?"
She lifted her hands, seeming to wipe away invisible cobwebs, and pressed her lips together. Then she nodded toward Pearl and got up quietly to join me in the hallway.
"My daughter in England," she said, finally finding the strength to speak. "She was in a car accident and she is very badly hurt. I have to go."
"Of course," I said. "How dreadful. I'll help you with the arrangements."
"I've already taken care of most of it, madame. I was just waiting for your return."
"Oh, Mrs. Flemming. I'm so sorry," 1 said.
"Thank you, dear. I hate to leave, you know. You've made me feel like part of the family. I know you're very excited about your artistic career and need me to help with Pearl."
"Nonsense. You must go. I'll pray for you and your daughter," I said.
She pressed her lips together and nodded, the tears streaming down her face. "It's sad how it takes bad things to bring loved ones closer," she said. I hugged her and kissed her cheek.
When James brought my things up, he brought hers down. She had a taxicab on order.
"Kiss the little one for me every morning," she said.
"I know she'll miss you terribly. Please, let us know how things go and what we can do for you, Mrs. Flemming."
She promised and then left. It was as if a hurricane had come and blown my happy home apart. I couldn't help wondering if capricious Fate had decided to punish those close to me for any sins I might commit.
Nina Jackson, the Dumas cook, used to tell me that maybe a long time ago someone burned a black candle against us. Grandmere Catherine, being a spiritual healer, kept the evil away, but after she died, the devil, Papa La Bas, started coming around again, peeping in on my life, waiting for an opportunity.
Had I just given him one?
10
P
icture Perfect
.
Paul phoned that night from Baton Rouge and I
told him about Mrs. Flemming.
"I'll come right home," he said.
"You don't have to, Paul. We're all right. I'm
just very sad for her and for her daughter."
"I like to be with you when you're sad, Ruby. I
don't like your being alone at times like this," he said. "You can't protect me from every little storm
that befalls me, Paul. Besides, I didn't have a nanny