by James Lavene
The teacher, Mrs. Dilworth, looked stunned when the tall woman dressed in red velvet, her long white hair flowing around her like a cape, told her that the play had been magnificent and gave her the cash.
"My aunt is a little eccentric." Emilie followed Joda's stunning act with a smile and a sane presence. "She means well and she does want you to have the money for the kids."
"Thank you," Mrs. Dilworth exclaimed. "What's her favorite play?"
Emilie shrugged. "Probably A Midsummer's Night's Dream."
"We'll do it next semester," the teacher promised. "Maybe she'll want to see it too."
Emilie smiled and waved knowing she couldn't promise what Joda's mood would be next semester. She might as easily drop that thousand dollars into a waiter's hand for his tip.
"That was wonderful," Joda breathed on the frosty night air as they walked back to the car.
"It was," Emilie agreed. "The drama teacher said they'd do a Midsummer's Night's Dream if you'll come back next semester."
Joda looked at her pointedly. "When is the next semester, Emilie, petite?"
"Probably February or March."
Her aunt nodded, satisfied. "Then we shall return."
They drank the rest of the bottle of wine together when they reached the house, sitting in the dark in her mother's music room. The dim light from the hallway glazed the surface of the grand piano that dominated the room.
"Your mother's presence is in this room," Joda told her after they'd sat in the silence for a long time.
Emilie sipped at her wine. "Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and think I hear her playing down here."
"Sometimes, maybe you do.”
"Where would Daddy be then?" Emilie looked up at the mural painted on the ceiling high above them.
"Your father is comfortable in his rest," Joda told her. "He doesn't wait, restlessly, as your Mamma does, for the laughter of a child in this house."
"She knew I couldn't have children." Emilie pointed out to her aunt.
"Yes, but she knew you would do the right thing, the necessary thing, to ensure the Ferrier line would continue."
Emilie stood, a little uncertainly since they'd shared a considerable amount of wine. She traced her finger along the dustless surface of the piano.
"Sometimes I wish I could leave here," she whispered fiercely. "Sometimes, this house, with its ghosts and expectations, weighs on me like a stone."
"Responsibility is rarely light, petite." Joda shrugged, lying back on the heavy, velvet sofa. "It is your heart that is heavy, not this house. When you bring a little one home, it will be lighter."
"Do you realize what you're saying?" Emilie rounded on her. "That we should raise a child alone here, in this house full of ghosts and empty rooms? That both of us should live out loveless lives for the sake of the Ferrier name?"
"We must both do what we must do, ma petite belle," Joda mused, only half sober herself.
"Which is that I should raise a child alone here while you run wild with your friends in the garden."
"You are only alone because you choose to be alone!"
"I didn't choose to be alone," Emilie argued. "Any more than I chose to be the last barren child of a dying family!"
"We all make our choices.”
"Then I choose to leave this house and I choose not to raise a child alone because I think a child needs a mother and a father! I choose to be happy for once. And I choose to be in love!"
"Bien!" Joda applauded her. "Now you only have to make your life this way!"
Emilie felt suddenly tired and dispirited. "I don't know how to make my life any different than it is. I guess you didn't either. Goodnight, Aunt Joda. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Things will work out, Emilie," her aunt's thin voice called out to her from the darkness. "Everything will be fine."
Chapter Five
Alain Jackson pulled his black Jaguar into the Ferrier drive promptly at eight am the following morning. The weather was still clear, but the temperatures had dropped again, making him hunch down into his heavy wool coat as he walked from the garage to the big house.
It was always a mystery to him why the family hadn't had the walk enclosed, protecting them from the weather. They could certainly afford it. The Ferriers were a strange lot.
Joda met him at the door, looking at him with keen eyes that unnerved him.
"Good morning," he said cheerfully, looking around the kitchen for Emilie.
"I was wrong," she told him bluntly. "She shouldn't marry you. Even for the sake of a child."
"What?"
"I counseled the girl to marry you if it meant that she could adopt the child. Now I see that I was wrong. You might as well go."
She turned and opened the door for him, standing and glaring at him while the cold air crept into the house.
Alain looked frantically for some avenue of escape from the crazy old woman. Finally, gratefully, Emilie walked into the kitchen.
"Emilie!"
"Shut the door, Joda, please! It's freezing in here!"
"He can go," her aunt told her. "He isn't right for you."
"We're spending the day together." Emilie glanced at Alain to see how he was handling her aunt's outrageous behavior.
"There's no reason," Joda repeated. "He's wrong." She turned to Alain. "Goodbye!"
Emilie buttoned her coat and took Alain by the arm, leading him to the door. "We're going out. Don't forget to close the door."
"He's not right," Joda yelled after her as they walked to the garage.
"Sorry," Emilie apologized when the door was closed behind them. "She doesn't really mean it. Tomorrow she might love you."
Alain smiled. "As long as you don't mind what she says, I can handle it. She's been this way as long as I can remember."
Emilie shrugged, not wanting to discuss her aunt. Her head hurt from too much wine last night and she’d awakened to dreams about Nick.
"So!" Alain brightened without Joda glowering at him. "Where are we going?"
"To a winter carnival," Emilie replied with a smile. "You're going to have a great time."
Alain's mind scanned his sources to recall where the world's best winter carnivals were held. It was too early for Rio. Too late for St. Moritz. Where were they going?
"It's a secret," she told him. "You'll like it. Trust me. It'll be a great place to get to know one another better."
#
Alain sat inside Emilie's booth in the school gymnasium, half-awake, as she recited yet another fortune that she’d ‘read’ from a little girl's palm. They had been there for two hours and the line had grown outside the darkened fortuneteller's booth.
The booth was only a few blankets thrown across a support made of old stage props, borrowed from the kindergarten. Emilie had added her own touches—a crystal ball and a lava light along with her purple wool skirt and matching sweater.
"So, what do you think?" Emilie had asked as she’d spun in front of him after adding a lime green scarf to her head.
"This is what you do for a living?" He hadn’t meant to blurt it out so baldly, but there it was.
She looked critically at him. "It means a lot to me, Alain. I work with children because I love to, not because I have to."
He certainly knew that! She didn't have to work at all. Yet she chose to work with dirty little children. On a day when they could have been anywhere in the world, she was sitting under some blankets making children with some of their front teeth missing laugh at her ridiculous fortunes!
The little girl laughed once more and left the booth. Two more little girls, holding hands and looking around with big, frightened eyes, came in after her.
"Is that you, Miss Ferrier?" One of the little girls asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
"Shh!" Emilie smiled at her. "Don't tell anyone else."
The two girls giggled and took their seats on the bench across from her. She took their hands and told them that their parents were getting ready to de
cide what they were going to do for extra chores over the Christmas holiday.
"Oh no!" they both groaned.
"What about my boyfriend?" One of them giggled. She was at least eight and had pretty little dimples in both of her cheeks.
"Your boyfriend?" Emilie mysteriously peered into her crystal ball. "I see your boyfriend. He's waiting for you outside. He wants to borrow your iPod over the holiday."
"No way!" the girl exclaimed. "He's not borrowing it for the whole two weeks! I only got it yesterday! How did you know, Miss Ferrier?"
"I see all! I know all!"
Both girls giggled and thanked her then walked out of the tent.
Emilie smiled at Alain who smiled back at her.
"See? Didn't I promise you a good time?"
"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," he answered carefully. "Are we going to be here all day?"
Emilie glanced at her watch. "Well, until three anyway. That's when the fair is over."
"All right. I'll be back."
"Where are you going?"
"You'll see," he promised with a sly smile. "It's a surprise."
He kissed her lightly on her heavily rouged cheek. Emilie raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"We are supposed to be getting to know each other better today," he reminded her with a sweet smile. His gaze fell on her lips. Emilie panicked, drawing back as he neared her mouth.
"You know, I don't require a lot, dear, but there does need to be some physical intimacy for a relationship to work," Alain warned her with a deeply indrawn breath.
"I know," she admitted. "I guess I'm just nervous."
"I know you had a bad experience with your husband, David." Alain tried to alleviate some of her fears. "You haven't really been with anyone since then, have you?"
"No." She thought about her experience with Nick. "Not really."
"You'll be fine. Don’t worry." His face moved close to hers again. This time his kiss fell at the corner of her mouth.
Emilie didn’t feel a thing. It was like she was made of wood.
What was wrong with her? Alain was everything most women were looking for in a husband. He was wealthy. He understood her need for children. He knew her background. She knew that he would never be less than polite and well meaning. What more did she want?
A shy little second grader entered the tent holding his mother's hand.
"We'd like to have our fortunes told," the mother said, looking at the boy.
Emilie was relieved to think about something else for a while. "I'll be glad to tell your fortunes. Sit down, please."
Alain didn’t wait to hear another fortune. He left the booth quickly.
Emilie told her little visitor an outrageous fortune that had him laughing out loud by the time she’d finished.
His mother was laughing too when she thanked her. "You're Emilie Ferrier, aren't you?" she asked with a polite, interested gaze.
"Yes, I am." Emilie braced herself, ready for anything that followed.
"I went to school with your mother, Regina. I'm on the school board." She held out her hand. "Del Mason. I've heard about your work here. You do a good job."
"Thank you." Emilie took the woman's hand and smiled at her from beneath the heavy make up and the green turban.
Del raised her eyebrows. "You're a surprising person. I don't know what your mother would have thought about all of this."
Emilie laughed. "She would've thought it was simply another quirk in the Ferrier line."
"I'm sure you're right," Del said politely. "Well, it was nice to finally meet you. I guess I should go look for Trevor. Keep up the good work."
"Thanks." Emilie watched the woman leave the tent. She sat back down on her fortuneteller's stool, glad that she hadn't been called on to defend the Ferrier honor. She wasn't feeling particularly loyal at that moment.
A simple question about her heritage could also lead to a twenty-minute sermon on things she should do with her family's money. Or a thorough re-hashing of past Ferrier sins. Once a woman at a department store had actually accused Emilie's great-grandfather of raping her great-grandmother and wanted to know what Emilie wanted to do about it.
"Miss Ferrier?" Another voice interrupted her thoughts.
It was Adam Markland, his blonde hair standing up in spikes on his head, dark eyes curious.
"Madame de Ferrier." Emilie curtsied elegantly, switching on the little light under the crystal ball on the table. "Come and sit down. I will tell your fortune."
"de Ferrier?" Adam asked, frowning. "Is that like the guy who started the town?"
"Adam!" she answered brightly. "Are you telling me that you learned something about local history?"
He smiled, showing that gap in his newly forming smile again. "I liked the band rehearsal yesterday. It was great!”
“Excellent! Ask me a question about your future!"
He sat down on the bench opposite her and thought for a moment. "Will Uncle Nick be able to find me?"
At that moment, Emilie heard Nick outside the tent asking if Adam was inside.
"I think that's going to happen," Emilie prophesied and the boy smiled.
"Adam?"
"He's in here," Emilie called, turning from the boy to watch Nick duck his head and enter the tent.
Nick's tone was harsh when he said, "I thought we were going to stay together."
"We were." Adam scooted over a little on the bench. "I wanted to come in here while you were talking to that lady. Okay?”
"I suppose so." Nick adjusted a little girl on his lap as he sat down on the bench. Her pretty dark curls spilled across her shoulder.
She looked at Emilie, her thumb in her mouth. Her dark eyes fastened on her with unwavering deliberation.
"She's going to tell my future," Adam explained to his uncle.
Emilie was ignoring them both, making faces at the little girl. She put out a finger for her to look at the huge, sparkling, costume ring. The little girl tried her best to get the ring off.
"Hello again," Nick softly replied.
"We meet in strange places." Her attention returned to the baby. "How old is she?"
"A little over a year," he said. "Her name is Amber."
"She's my sister," Adam told his teacher in disparaging tones. "She cries a lot."
"I'm sure she does" Emilie laughed as Amber grabbed for her finger again. "She's happy right now."
Adam sneered. "That's only because she didn't poop her pants and Uncle Nick's holding her."
Emilie laughed and looked back at Adam's disgusted face as he squirmed around on the bench beside his uncle.
"All right. Let's take a look at your fortune." She looked into the crystal ball, making mysterious motions across the glass with her heavily ringed hands.
Nick watched her animated face. She looked good even with the heavy make up. The dark eyeliner emphasized her eyes, even in the dim light.
Amber laughed and Emilie glanced up at her, making a funny face that set the little girl off even more. Emilie crossed her eyes and wrinkled her nose. She twisted her lips in a strange caricature of their usual smooth lines.
Money, brains, and beauty, and a sense of humor, Nick mused. Not to mention a fortune, a big house and some great cars. She had a soft heart and a sweet body. She kissed like an angel. It was hard for him to believe that she hadn't been snatched up by some man.
If he was in a different position . . .
"I see something good coming to you." Emilie glanced up at Nick who mouthed the word bicycle at her. "Wait! I see something. Can it be something with wheels? Something that can take you places?"
Adam made a face, straining to peer into the crystal ball that was glowing softly on the dark table. "I don't see anything."
"You have to have the sight," Emile told him briefly. "I see something here that looks like—"
"A Corvette?" Adam prompted.
Emilie frowned at him. "A bicycle. Not a Corvette."
Nick laughed. "What would you
do with a Corvette anyway?"
"Let you drive it, Uncle Nick," Adam said in his slightly falsetto voice.
Nick rumpled the boy's light hair. "Thanks, buddy. If I had one, I'd let you help me drive it."
"Cool!"
"This is a bicycle." Emilie brought him back to reality. "I see a bicycle in your future."
"I asked for one for Christmas," Adam told her with a shy, smile. "Amber wants a dolly."
"Do you want a dolly?" Emilie turned to the little girl.
Amber laughed up at her then hid her face against her uncle's shoulder.
"She's shy," Adam explained to his teacher. "Is there a dolly in her future?"
Emilie looked into the crystal and smiled. She noticed Amber sneaking peeks at her. "I think there is. Yes! I see one here for sure."
"You're going to get a doll, Amber," Adam told her, shaking her arm a little.
Amber grinned, showing her little white teeth. She opened her eyes wide, but didn't say anything. Not even a cooing sound came from her pink lips.
"Could I hold her?" Emilie asked tentatively, prepared for Nick to reject her request.
Used to the question from women he passed in the mall and grocery shopping, Nick held the little girl out to her.
Emilie took her into her arms as though she were the most precious creature in the world. Amber looked up into her face and smiled, then reached for the huge brooch on the front of Emilie's turban.
"No, Amber," Nick cautioned.
The pretty face crumpled, ready to cry. Emilie thought fast, substituting a spool of twine from her pocket into the little girl's questing hands.
The bright gold color attracted Amber's gaze at once. She took the spool greedily, clutching it tightly in her little hands.
"You're good with her," Nick told her gently. "You should have some of your own. Or maybe you do?"
She glanced across the table at him. "No, I'm afraid not. I was married a long time ago. But I can't have children. Physically, I mean."
She smiled and played with the little girl to cover her embarrassment. It was a difficult thing for her to speak of, even to people she knew well. She was surprised to find herself blurting it out to Nick. He was almost a stranger in her life.