by Karen White
My mind backpedaled to the first part of her discourse and replayed it back in my mind at a slower speed. “Your camp was canceled?”
Finn spoke again. “It was a French immersion camp. Her mother’s idea.” His face remained inscrutable.
I raised my eyebrows, hoping either Gigi or Finn would explain how a French immersion camp segued into a favor.
Finn continued. “Since her mother can’t take her today, I told Gigi that I could take the day off, but she says that won’t work. All she’ll tell me is that she needs to go shopping today for something she wants to keep secret from me, and would only discuss it with you.”
“One minute,” I said. Taking Gigi’s hand, I began walking toward Finn’s office. “We’ll be right back.”
He nodded, then leaned against my desk with his arms folded, the relaxed position doing nothing to soften the severity of his suit or demeanor.
Ignoring the look from Finn’s secretary, I pulled Gigi into the office and shut the door. “So, what’s the big secret?” I asked.
Her eyes widened, her expression more serious than I’d seen before. “Daddy’s birthday is Saturday, and I need to get him a present.”
“Ah,” I said, straightening. “So you need somebody else to take you and your mother can’t.”
“Yes, ma’am. And since you’re just sitting at your desk all day, I figured you’d probably have more fun shopping with me.”
“And you mentioned this to your father?”
She quickly nodded. “I didn’t tell him what I was shopping for, but I told him that I needed you to go with me.”
Grinning, I led her back to her father. “I’d be happy to take Gigi today. But I’ve got the new client folders to put together. . . .”
“Kay will do it. Take as much time as you need, then call me on my cell when you’re done. I’m going to try to cancel some appointments I have scheduled this afternoon so I can spend it with Gigi.”
I glanced over at Kay, who was frowning at the little girl who had wandered over to my desk chair and was spinning it in faster and faster circles. In a lowered voice, I asked, “Are you sure that’s okay? I can work on the folders when we get back, or even stay later if I—”
“I’ll take care of it, Eleanor. It’s more important that my daughter doesn’t feel as if she’s being passed around. Her mother . . .” He stopped himself. “I’d really appreciate it,” he said instead.
“Should I tell Kay . . . ?”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said again, and I wondered if his need to be in control had been something taught to him by his father or something circumstances had made a necessity.
“All right, then.” I put my hand on my chair, stilling it, then grabbed my purse from a drawer. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”
Gigi hugged her father, receiving a kiss on her forehead. “Listen to Eleanor, Peanut, and try not to talk her ears off.”
She was still giggling as we left, making a detour to the restrooms. We had to pass the accounting department along the way, and I found myself hoping that we wouldn’t run into Lucy. As much as I missed our commute together and our daily conversations, I’d found myself avoiding her so that I wouldn’t be tempted to explain how Finn was different on Edisto, and how he’d told me that the happiest memory of his childhood was the night he’d stood outside my house and listened to me play the piano.
Lucy was standing by the water fountain just as we reached the restroom, and after a brief hello, I made to follow Gigi. Lucy grabbed hold of my arm and held me back. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking Fi—Mr. Beaufain’s daughter to go buy a birthday present.”
“Finn? You’re calling him by his first name now?”
“Not here at the office,” I said in a hushed voice. “But you know how it is on the island. It’s a lot more casual and makes sense to call him by his first name while I’m working in his great-aunt’s house.”
“Um-hmm,” she said, doing that neck thing that said so much more than words ever could.
“Her mother was supposed to take Gigi today but she can’t, and she needs to buy a birthday present for her father, and she wanted me to take her. It’s really nothing.”
This time she just gave me the look she must have learned from Dah Georgie when we told her it was too hot to go looking for sweetgrass.
“Lucy, come on. You know me. And this job has become a real lifesaver for me—and not just because of the money, either.” I stopped as Rich Kobylt, the human resources manager, walked past with a steaming cup of coffee. I nodded in greeting and waited until he’d passed. “Eve’s pregnant.”
If I’d expected her to hug me or offer words of sympathy, I would have been mistaken. All she said was “Good. Now maybe you can grow flowers in your own garden. This is a good thing for Eve and Glen.” She wrinkled her forehead. “For you and Glen.”
She tucked her chin into her neck like a bull getting ready to charge, and I braced myself. “You don’t be needing to hang around with Mr. Beaufain, neither. You’re just jumping out of the pot and into the frying pan.”
“Wow, Lucy. Two clichés in the same conversation. That might be a record.”
“Um-hmm. You wouldn’t be sounding so defensive if you didn’t know I was right.”
“I’m not being defensive.” I stopped, hearing myself. Gigi came out of the restroom and I sent her a grateful glance. “We’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“You can be sure of that. Um-hmm, you can be sure of that.”
I followed Gigi out the door, pretending I hadn’t heard Lucy’s parting words.
After I’d made sure that Gigi was buckled into the backseat—she was still too small to sit up front with the air bag—I turned to her. “So—any ideas as to what you want to get for your father?”
She looked up at the car ceiling while tapping her pink-tipped nails on the armrest. “Aunt Helena said I should get him a nice book about the stars and the sky at night. She said he used to like looking at them when he was a little boy.”
I nodded. “That’s an idea. How much money do you have to spend?”
She reached inside her pink beaded purse and pulled out a small envelope. “Aunt Helena had Nurse Weber put some money in here to buy something nice for my daddy. And I put all of my allowance in there, too—eleven dollars and twenty-five cents.”
“Can I see?”
She handed me the envelope, and I was surprised by how thick it felt. I slid it open and looked inside. Ten brand-new and crisp fifty-dollar bills sat nestled beside two crumpled fives, a one, and a loose quarter. I looked up at Gigi in surprise. “Did she give you any idea of how much you were allowed to spend?”
She shook her head. “No, ma’am. All she said was that this would be enough to get a nice book and maybe something else.”
I debated with myself about calling Lucy for her opinion, then remembered our last conversation and quickly dismissed the thought. We sat in the car for a minute in silence with the engine running and the air-conditioning blowing while I tried to figure out what to do. Eventually I turned back to Gigi.
I held up the envelope. “I’m going to hang on to this for you, all right? Now, go ahead and take off your seat belt. We’re going to Market Street and then King Street. It’s a bit of walking, but easier than finding parking. I’ve got an idea.”
She grinned conspiratorially at me as she leapt from the car, my own grin softening as I recalled Lucy’s words about growing flowers in my own garden. I wanted to pretend that I didn’t know what she was talking about. But Lucy had known me for too long, had sat with me while we watched Dah Georgie build her baskets, asking us what kinds of baskets our lives would be. I knew what Lucy was telling me. I just wasn’t ready to hear it.
Three hours later, Gigi and I had two packages stashed in the back of the Volvo. We were hot a
nd sticky from the long walk, but I had the air-conditioning on full blast. I fished my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Finn’s number.
“Finn Beaufain.” His words were short and curt.
“Um, I’m sorry, Mr. Beaufain?”
There was a brief pause. “Eleanor? I’m so sorry. I’m dealing with a small crisis right now and I didn’t look at my caller ID. Did you need something?”
“You, um, asked me to call you when Gigi and I were done. I fed her lunch because it took us longer than I’d anticipated.”
“Thank you, Eleanor.” There was another pause. “Look, I’m not going to be able to get away from the office anytime soon. Gigi is spending the night with her mother. Could you please drop her off there? Harper is home and is expecting her. Then you’ll have the rest of the day off.”
“Sure. Not a problem. But I can come back to the office. . . .”
“I’ve got everything under control. I’ll see you in the morning. And please tell Gigi that I’ll call her tonight before she goes to bed. I’ll text you the address.”
He said good-bye, and then I turned to Gigi. “Looks like there’s been a change of plans. I’m going to bring you to your mother’s house, all right? And your daddy promised to call before you went to bed.”
I watched for any look of disappointment or reluctance, but she only smiled at me. “Thank you, Ellie. I had fun today.”
My phone beeped and I looked down to see the text from Finn. I put the car in drive, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Me, too.”
It was a short drive to the white single house on Queen Street. Harper Beaufain Gibbes’s house was another picture-perfect example of Charleston architecture, with the side double piazzas and overabundant front garden with scents and colors vying for attention. Here again, I noticed the absence of any signs of occupancy, as if the house was merely a false front to use in a magazine spread.
I parked at the curb in front of the house and was still unbuckling my seat belt when I heard Gigi’s unclasp and then felt her finger poking me in the shoulder. “Don’t forget to only call me Genevieve. Mommy doesn’t always have good days, and saying Gigi won’t make it any better.”
She regarded me with such sage and knowing eyes that I had to remind myself that she was only ten.
“Got it,” I said, stepping out of the car. I followed her up the brick steps to the front door, which in any other city would be considered a side door despite the fact that it faced the street. It led onto the front piazza and the actual front door.
I rang the doorbell and waited, surprised to find myself hoping a housekeeper would answer instead of the lady of the house. I remembered what Finn had told me about her, and how she’d cut short her stay on Edisto because she’d found it lacking. Trying to push those thoughts aside, I plastered a smile on my face and waited for the front door to open.
The woman who opened the door was definitely not the housekeeper. She was tall and slender, with chestnut brown hair and bright blue eyes. Despite the fact that she was at home, she wore high heels and a pencil skirt, and a beautiful white silk blouse with a low V cinched in with a thick leather belt. This woman was the epitome of a New England yacht club member, but then again with her bone structure and elegant clothing, I would assume she hailed from anyplace that had exclusive country club memberships and boarding schools. With a start, I realized this was what my mother would have looked like if she’d married the sort of man she was supposed to instead of my father. Two months ago, I would have thought this was the kind of woman Finn Beaufain should have married. But when I pictured him with his ruffled hair as he made a paper airplane on the porch of the Edisto house, I was no longer so sure.
“Mommy!” Gigi threw herself at the woman, confirming her identity.
Harper hesitated only a moment before placing a well-manicured hand on the small blond head of her daughter. “Genevieve, sweetheart. Don’t wrinkle Mommy’s skirt.”
Gigi backed up, dropping her hands. As if her mother hadn’t just scolded her, she grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. “This is Ellie. She’s taking care of Aunt Helena and sometimes me, too.”
Cool blue eyes appraised me sharply, from my shoulder-length brown hair to my simple skirt and blouse, and she didn’t hide the fact that she found me lacking.
She extended her fingertips toward me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Genevieve talks about you all the time.”
Her fingertips were cool and dry, like grass that had gone too long without rain. She barely touched my fingers before withdrawing her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know Genevieve.”
“I’m sure.” Turning to her daughter, she said, “Go wash your face and hands and change into a dress that’s not pink, please. Your stepfather and I are having guests for dinner, and they’ll be here within the hour. I’d like for you to answer the door when they arrive.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gigi said, acting more subdued than I’d ever seen her. She said good-bye to me and walked sedately into the foyer.
I was in the middle of excusing myself when Gigi burst back through the door. “Ellie! What about the birthday presents? Can you wrap them?”
“Of course. I’m not sure how I’ll manage the big one, but I’ll think of something. And the book will be easy. You just have to make a card.”
“Thanks!” She grinned at me, then disappeared inside the house.
“Is she referring to Finn’s birthday?”
“Yes. I took her shopping today.”
Irritation flashed across her face. “Thank God I was spared that. What did she get him?”
“A book about astronomy and a telescope.” I knew better than to allow that I’d been the one to come up with the second idea.
“A telescope. Wherever did the child get the money for that?”
“From Miss Szarka. But we didn’t spend that much. I have a friend from high school who has a secondhand shop on Market. Last time I was there he had a used telescope in the window and I took a chance that it would still be there.”
“And it was.”
“Yes.”
She was looking at me now with more interest, so I took a step away to show her that I was eager to leave.
“Genevieve told me that you grew up on Edisto. Is that right?”
I nodded. “I lived there until I was seventeen, and then we moved to North Charleston, where we still live.”
“I see. And where did you study piano?”
I looked up at her with surprise. “How did you know I played the piano?”
“Finn mentioned it.” She looked at me expectantly.
“My father taught me.”
Her brow furled. “And Finn believes that makes you good enough to teach piano to our daughter.” It wasn’t a question.
I flushed. “My father was a very good musician and a wonderful teacher. I feel confident I can teach the basics to Genevieve.”
“Was this his idea or yours?”
I worked to keep my voice even. “Actually, it was Miss Szarka’s.”
She regarded me coolly. “I don’t know why Finn thinks she has to learn piano—dancing is really enough.”
I wanted to end this conversation, but she seemed determined to make a point. Or maybe she was just lonely and needed somebody to talk to. I opened my mouth to speak, but she continued. “Finn has some huge romantic notion about the piano. I thought it came from his aunts, who both played, but Finn told me once about how when he was a boy on Edisto he listened for hours to a perfect stranger play the piano inside a house while he stayed outside looking up at the stars. When I met him he’d made that one event into something of near mythical proportions. Which is ridiculous, really. He must have been eaten alive by mosquitoes, and how can anybody be that good that somebody would listen for hours?”
; “Ridiculous,” I repeated, my voice stronger than I’d meant it to be. I walked down the piazza toward the door, eager to leave. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Thank you for bringing Genevieve. And I’m glad she got Finn a telescope. Maybe that will keep him busy so that he’ll forget about resuming flying lessons.”
I stopped to look at her. “Flying lessons?”
She waved her hand, like she was swatting away a fly. “When Genevieve was a baby, he wanted to learn how to fly, so he started taking lessons. He never finished. Every once in a while he mentions getting back to it. Luckily, he hasn’t. It’s not like he’s a young man without responsibilities anymore.” She gave a little laugh. “Men never really grow up, do they?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said before turning around and walking quickly to the Volvo. I sat with the car running for a long time as I tried to erase the woman’s voice from my head, unable to stop thinking about why Finn had told her about his childhood night on the marsh, and wondering what had happened to his dreams of flying.
CHAPTER 16
Eve
I met my mother’s gaze over the kitchen table as yet another shouted curse followed by a clattering of metal pans came from the kitchen. I looked back at my needle, pleased to see another glimmer of the old Eleanor. Since her regular trips to Edisto, we’d begun to see glimmers more and more often.
“What is she doing in there?” Mama asked for the third time.
I glanced back at her, wondering if she was aware that she’d asked the question before. “She’s making a dobostorta. It’s a Hungarian layer cake. Apparently it’s very difficult.”
Another crash of pans accentuated my comment.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Mama said, leaning over her crossword puzzle again. She’d been working on it for more than an hour but had only three words penciled in so far. She needed reading glasses, but I would be the last person to suggest it.