“The Kensington House. Apparently, Dr. Jung stays there when he’s in New York.”
“How do you know that?” Evie asked.
“An old friend of my mother’s once hosted a fancy luncheon for him in Geneva,” Mabel answered as they crossed the street and headed into the park.
Sometimes Evie forgot that Mabel’s mother had been a Newell, one of New York’s great society families, before she married Mabel’s father and was disowned. She wondered what it must be like for Mabel to know that an entire side of her family lived with maids and butlers and chauffeurs to take care of their every need while Mabel shared a two-bedroom flat with parents who actively campaigned against that sort of wealth and privilege.
“Do you ever see your mother’s family, Mabesie?”
“Once a year,” Mabel said. “On my grandmother’s birthday. Mama sends me out on the train and a driver picks me up in a Rolls-Royce.”
“Your mother gave all that up for love?” Theta asked.
“Yes,” Mabel said. “And because she wanted to be her own person, with a different sort of life.”
“That’s a lot to walk away from.” Evie whistled.
The grainy halos of the park lamps lit up the barren branches of the stately winter trees flanking the cobbled path inside Central Park. The glassy surface of the frozen pond reflected the waxing moon, making it seem attainable. The tops of Fifth Avenue’s tony apartment buildings shone in the distance as the girls’ shoes crunched through the remnants of old snow.
“How are things with Jericho?” Evie asked Mabel, keeping her voice light, as if she were asking about the weather. “Has he tried to kiss you again?”
“Evie!” Mabel sputtered at the same moment Theta said, “Jericho kissed you?”
“Gee, I might as well tell the Daily Mirror as tell you,” Mabel complained.
“I’m sorry, Pie Face, really, I am. But it’s just Theta, and she’s thrilled for you. Aren’t you, Theta?”
“Sure I am.” Theta flicked a glance Evie’s way. The glance said, What are you doing? Why are you torturing yourself? Evie fluttered her lashes in response: I do not know what you are insinuating. I am above your petty insult.
“No, he hasn’t,” Mabel said, unaware of Evie and Theta’s little exchange. “But we’ve been very busy putting the exhibit together.” Mabel cast a suspicious glance at Evie. “You are coming, aren’t you, Evie? You won’t let some radio nonsense keep you?”
“I said I’d be there and I will be there.” Evie sniffed. “Oh, look! It’s started snowing. Isn’t it beautiful?”
The girls stopped at the top of an archway and watched the glistening flakes flutter down over the pathway and rolling lawn. The night held its breath for a moment. In the hush, they could hear jazz and merriment coming from the nearby Central Park Casino, whose lights shone through the gaps in the trees, making Theta think of the lighthouse and Memphis. She’d tried calling his house that afternoon, but hung up with a “Sorry, wrong number” when his aunt answered the phone. Snow melted on the backs of her gloves, and she felt that strange stirring in her gut. In the dream, it was always snowing. Snow everywhere. Henry said dreams were clues, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what her dream wanted her to know.
“Say, Mabel, you find out anything interesting for this Diviners falderal?” Theta asked.
“Oh, all sorts of things. It’s in the exhibit,” Mabel said without elaborating further. It was her private experience with Jericho, and she didn’t want to share it. Especially if Evie was going to blab all of Mabel’s personal information without a second thought.
“The full creepy crawly, huh?” Theta pressed. “People who can talk to ghosts. People who can see the future and read objects, like Evil here. People who could, I don’t know, burn things, set them on fire.”
“Set things on fire?” Mabel scrunched up her face. “Goodness, no! Nothing like that.”
“Honestly, Theta, and you call me Evil,” Evie said with a laugh. “Where’d you come up with that one?”
The slightest tingle rippled along Theta’s fingertips. “Just making conversation. It’s freezing,” she said and walked faster through the falling snow.
In the quaint lobby of the small, traditional Kensington House, the girls waited, until at last a very tall, white-haired man wearing wire spectacles and a tweed jacket strolled inside. He puffed on a pipe.
Mabel poked Evie and Theta. “That’s him! Come on!” she whispered urgently.
“Dr. Jung?” Mabel said, rushing to greet him. Evie and Theta followed.
“Yes. I am Dr. Jung.”
“Thank heavens! We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Have you?” Dr. Jung’s brows formed a V atop his spectacles. “Forgive me. Did we have an appointment?”