There was a cacophony of voices as everyone began speaking—or rather yelling—at once. Jean-Baptiste raised a hand and barked, “Silence!” He looked at each person in the room for a second, as if measuring their feelings in the matter, ending his silent inquisition with me. “Kate, my dear,” he said in his noble monotone, which made the “dear” sound anything but endearing, “forgive me for asking you to take your leave from this meeting.”
Vincent began to speak up, but Jean-Baptiste raised a hand to silence him. “Just this once, until we settle this matter with our newcomers. I want everyone to feel comfortable with the situation, and Arthur and Violette have not yet had the time to acquaint themselves with your presence here. Would you do me the very great favor of excusing us on this one occasion?”
I shot Arthur the meanest glare I could muster, knowing that it had to be pretty lame: My eyes were red from stifled tears of humiliation. His eyes looked empty, but he held my gaze until I broke it. Lifting my chin, I gathered every shred of my tattered pride together as I stood.
“I’ll walk you to my room,” Vincent whispered, laying a hand on my arm.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, backing away from him. “I’ll wait for you there.” Unable to look at the others, I left the hall.
Instead of going back to Vincent’s room, I went to the kitchen, hoping to find comfort from the only other human in the house. I pushed my way through the swinging door into the kitchen, where Jeanne bustled around with trays of food. She put the kettle on the stove as soon as she saw me and came over to give me two energetic cheek-kisses.
“Kate, darling, how are you, my little cabbage?” She held me back and got a look at my red face and eyes. “My dear! What is the matter?”
“I was just kicked out of a house meeting for being human.”
“What? But I don’t understand. I am very surprised that Jean-Baptiste would take that position after everything that has happened.”
“It wasn’t Jean-Baptiste. It was Arthur,” I said, sitting down at the table. Accepting Jeanne’s offer of a Kleenex, I dabbed the corners of my eyes. “He said I might endanger the safety of the household.”
“Now, I can’t imagine him saying something like that,” Jeanne said unsurely, sitting down across from me and pushing a plate of homemade honey-scented madeleines my way. She thought for a moment and then seemed to relent. “Arthur and Violette are . . . how would you say . . . ‘old school,’ perhaps? They are from nobility. And where they once looked down on the peasants, they now feel the same way about humans. It doesn’t mean they aren’t good people. It just means they’re . . . snobs.”
I laughed, hearing Jeanne use the derogatory term. She was always so positive about everyone and everything. For her to call Violette and Arthur snobs must mean they were raging immortal bigots.
“They’re here to do good work, Kate. Even if they aren’t the most pleasant people, they know a lot and have been around longer than anyone else. And seeing their preference for isolation, I doubt they’ll stay for long. Before you know it, things will be back to normal.”
I nodded, munching on a cookie, and tried to reason that my own pride shouldn’t stand in the way of the safety of the group. It’s not like I deserved to be included in their most secret discussions. I was not a revenant. I was the exception to the rule. Who was I kidding? I didn’t belong.
I could feel my mood getting darker by the second. “I’m leaving,” I said, throwing my arms around Jeanne’s neck. “Thanks. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe when I’m here.”
“Well, you basically are, chérie,” Jeanne said as she let me go and tightened her apron. “You won’t be staying for dinner?”
“No. Please tell Vincent I went home, and that he can call me later,” I said. She gave me an understanding look and threw me an air-kiss from her position in front of the stove as I made my way out.
I wandered through the house and out the front door into the courtyard. Passing the angel fountain, I stepped inside and made my way across the empty basin to its figures. Angel. Human. Two separate entities carved out of one block of marble. I ran my fingers over the angel’s arm. It was as cold as Vincent’s when he was dead.
TEN
THE DOORBELL RANG AS SOON AS I SAT DOWN ON my bed. A couple of seconds later there was a knock on my bedroom door.
“Katya, darling. It’s Vincent. He’s coming up.”
“Thanks, Mamie,” I said, opening the door. My grandmother stood before me, dressed in her “going-out” outfit of three-inch heels and a calf-length skirt. She didn’t have an ounce of fat on her, and her fashion choice boldly flaunted the best legs I had ever seen on a senior citizen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, zoning in on my expression.
“Oh, nothing,” I said automatically, and then, seeing she wasn’t going to move until I answered, I asked, “Mamie, have you ever been in a situation where you were purposely made to feel like an outsider? Like you didn’t belong?”