At the top of the landing, Brooke pointed to the right. “Lizzie, your bedroom is the second doorway from the end. There’s a bathroom right next door, although it’s not attached. Mom, you and I are doubling up in what used to be the master bedroom, which is at the very end.” She pointed to the left. “That’s Gabe’s bedroom down there. Louette said it was Gardiner’s before the war, and it does have a bathroom, although there’s a tub and no shower.” She pointed to a double doorway halfway down the left wing. “Felicia, this room is yours and Varina’s. There are two double beds, but the best thing is there’s an attached bathroom.”
“I need that bathroom right now,” Varina said, a note of urgency in her voice. She took her walker from Gabe, who’d carried it upstairs, and scuttled in the direction of the bedroom.
“God,” Lizzie said, wiping her glistening face with the back of her hand. “Tell me there’s air-conditioning in my room.”
“It’s only a window unit, but Louette turned it on and she swears the room will cool down nicely,” Brooke said.
Dweezil yowled and batted against the side of the cat carrier, echoing Lizzie’s annoyance.
*
Brooke sat gingerly on one side of the narrow bed and patted the lumpy mattress, which was covered with a quilted satin throw. “Isn’t it funny to think of married couples sleeping on something this small?”
The master bed had a towering carved mahogany headboard that reached halfway to the ceiling and a footboard so high that being in the bed felt like being in a boat.
Marie sat down on the other side of the bed, the one nearest the window, and bounced up and down. “Your father and I slept on double beds for years when we first got married. We didn’t think anything of it at the time. Now I get claustrophobic sleeping alone in a queen.”
“Sorry about having to share a bed with me,” Brooke said.
“It’ll be fine,” Marie said lightly. “Taking family closeness to a whole new level. Although I do wish I had a toothbrush and nightie with me.”
“Louette put new toothbrushes in the bathroom for both of us,” Brooke said, “and she said we should just help ourselves to whatever we find in the closet for clothes.”
Marie flopped backward onto the bed. “Later,” she said wearily. “Right now, I feel like I’m the nonagenarian. There has been a lot of drama already today.” She turned onto her side and yawned. “Wake me up ten minutes before dinner so I can at least wash my face. Okay?”
*
Brooke curled up beside her mother and stared at the wall. The wallpaper was a scenic toile featuring flowers and trees and birds and animals that she guessed were native to Talisa, all done in shades of pea green. She managed to pick out a sea turtle, a running deer, some kind of long-necked seabird, pine trees, oaks, palms … and the next thing she knew, her mother was gently poking her in the side.
“Come on, Brooke,” Marie said, laughing. “It’s dinnertime. And did you know you snore?”
“Do not,” Brooke yawned, sitting up.
“Do too,” Marie said. “Let’s go. I’m starved.”
*
The others were already seated in the dining room, which had also undergone a transformation. A snowy white damask tablecloth covered the table, which was set with gold-rimmed porcelain dishes, heavy sterling flatware, and crystal stemware. A pair of tall silver candelabras adorned the center of the table with lit tapers.
Josephine sat at the head of the table, sipping from a glass of wine. She was dressed in the silk caftan again, and diamonds twinkled from her earrings, necklace, and a solitaire cocktail ring on her right hand. When Louette bustled into the room, delicious scents wafted from the direction of the kitchen.
“What are we having tonight?” Josephine asked.
“Paper-bag baked redfish,” Louette said. “C. D. was fishing off the dock when he oughta have been fixing that boat motor, but at least we got dinner out of it. There’s red rice to go with the fish, salad from the garden, and some lady peas out of the freezer. I didn’t have time to bake yeast rolls, but I managed to throw some biscuits together.”
Gabe moaned out loud. “Redfish. My favorite. And lady peas. My mother used to fix them with fatback.”
“Mmm-hmm, that’s how I do ’em too,” Louette said, setting the dishes on the sideboard. She held up a bottle of white wine that had been sitting in a silver cooler. “Can I pour anybody some more wine? The man at the wine store says this is real nice with fish.”
Josephine held up her nearly empty glass. “You can top me off.”
Louette shook her head vigorously. “Noooo. You know your pain pills have it written right on the bottle—Do not consume with alcohol.” She moved around the table, filling the other extended glasses.
“Louette, I said you can top me off.” Josephine’s voice held a warning note. “What does it matter if I drink with my medicine? I’m not operating heavy machinery. And I already have stage-four lung cancer, so what’s the worst that can happen?”
The housekeeper muttered something under her breath but did as she’d been ordered.
Dinner proceeded, with the guests around the table complimenting the fish, which was the best Brooke had ever tasted, and the wine, which was also a surprisingly good quality. Their hostess, Brooke noticed, barely picked at her plate, merely moving food from one side of her plate to the other and occasionally tossing morsels to Teeny and Tiny, who sat on the floor by her chair.
At last, Marie folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. “Josephine, that was absolutely a divine dinner.” She toyed with her dinner fork. “Do you want to know something funny? I think I have this same silver pattern. Francis First, right?”
Josephine sipped her wine. “Yes, I believe that’s the name of this pattern.” She waved her hand at the table with its elegant trappings. “I don’t really care for this kind of thing, but Louette insisted. This was my mother’s wedding silver.”
“Mine was my grandmother’s,” Marie said. “The war was going on when Mama got married, so she said she didn’t really get a lot of wedding gifts.”
Lizzie picked up her fork and looked at it. “Granny had boxes and boxes of this kind of family stuff. I think it’s all still in storage. At some point, I guess I’ll get it all out and deal with it, but what do I need with pickle tongs and monogrammed pillowcases? I live alone and mostly eat carryout Chinese.”
Brooke tried not to think about all the wedding gifts she’d had to return after she’d canceled her own wedding to Harris Strayhorn.
She turned to their hostess. “Josephine, you didn’t go to Millie’s wedding, did you? Or Ruth’s either, for that matter. Isn’t that what you told me?”
Color flooded the old woman’s parchment-like skin. “As Marie pointed out, it was during the war. Gas was rationed, and travel was difficult. And, well, as I’ve admitted, we were estranged.”
“Did you have a fight?” Felicia asked eagerly. “What did you fight about?”
“No fight,” Josephine said. “We just … drifted apart.”
“Because of the thing with Russell Strickland?” Lizzie asked. “Don’t forget, you promised to tell us the rest of the story.”
Josephine’s fingers toyed with something on the collar of her dress. Brooke leaned closer and saw that it was the brooch she’d shown her previously. The High Tide Club pin.
“Yes. What happened after that man dragged my mother out of the ballroom?” Marie asked.
The door to the kitchen swung open, and as Louette walked in, Brooke glimpsed C. D. sitting at the kitchen table, mopping up sauce with half of a huge biscuit.
“I made coffee,” Louette announced, brandishing a pot. Josephine glared at Louette. “But you’re not having any, and I don’t care how much you fuss at me. It’s too late for you to be drinking coffee.”
“Fine. Open a bottle of port and bring me that,” Josephine said. She looked around the table. “At one time, Papa had the finest wine cellar on the coast. We might as well have some of his port, don’t you think?”
*
When the coffee had been drunk and the port poured, Josephine resumed her story.
“Russell was absolutely livid after he saw Millie dancing with Gardiner,” Josephine said. “I wasn’t out in the garden where he attacked her, so I only know what we managed to coax out of her the next night.”
“I seen it all,” Varina said quietly.
Every head in the room swiveled to look at her. She was such a tiny figure, almost child-sized, against the bulk of the enormous chair she sat in.