Blunt VII
Catherine entered the condominium building. She wasn't as fiery as she had been in the past weeks, but her blood was on a low boil. She hated snobs. When Susana Palermo asked to see her privately she knew it was to vet Cathy's suitability and perhaps even Catherine's right to be part of the group. Her request was accompanied by insincere sounding apologies for having to break their previous engagement. Catherine's responding tone was as forgiving as possible. She was too astute to get on a high horse and risk alienating the 'power' position. She was prepared to be magnanimous.
Rob trailed behind his employer, seeing in her confident footsteps, a different woman than the invalid he encountered years ago in California. Catherine would have instructed him to wait in the van but Vincent would not allow his wife to venture out alone just yet. He insisted on the door to door escort, and said so within earshot of the driver. Rob was left in no doubt whose instructions he had to follow. Unbeknown to either husband and wife, Jacob had long since warned him that any time Catherine was in the company of Susana Palermo, he was to stay close.
The elegant Manhattan condominium was known to Rob. He had dropped off Jacob and Cathy there. He didn't feel it was a coincidence that people who worked on the fringes of the law would have the same address. 'Birds of a feather' he muttered under his breath.
Catherine was purposeful. She announced her name to the security guard and waited.
'Who's this guy?'
'My Security, Rob.'
'Gun?' Rob hesitated. 'Alarm will go off if you're packin'.'
'No. I don't carry.'
The pair were escorted to the elevator and made the silent ride up to the first level. The door opened into a lush apartment. Catherine, who was not unused to luxury felt her breath taken away. Rather than an understated elegance, the place seemed pretentious. Gold glittered everywhere. Catherine smiled at paper thin platinum blonde who came forward with a limp outstretched hand.
'Catherine, welcome. Your man will find a room around the corner where he can wait for you. Come in. Come in. I am so happy to have this chance to share some alone time with you. I get so tired of all that brouhaha in those committee meetings. This is so much better, isn't it?'
If the guest hoped to say anything at all, she wondered when. The hostess rambled on endlessly all the while dragging Catherine into an area which seemed like a woman's sitting room. A small table near a window overlooking the city was set for a luncheon but Susana first invited her to be seated on a small settee. She offered Catherine a drink, waving her hand at some unseen server. Catherine was able to draw a complete breath for the first time since she left the truck. The fixed smile held.
'So Catherine, how is it that you know the Governor?'
Catherine was very certain that Susana had already sent out feelers for the answer, but she was prepared to be honest and test her hostess' sources. 'He was an intern in my father's law firm some years ago.'
Apparently, whoever provided the information did not check deep enough. Her hostess was surprised. The pencilled eyebrows elevated just slightly.
'You have quite a history it seems, both with the governor and of course personally.'
'Indeed I do. I am infinitely lucky to be alive and reunited with my husband and child.' Catherine's face continued to portray an open and honest countenance. Her eyes never wavered.
A young man in a uniform brought an iced concoction. Catherine took a sip of hers. Susana drank nothing. She crossed and uncrossed her legs all the while continuing to smile while waving the glass around idly. Her cheerful sociable demeanour was clearly becoming forced. She motioned then moved towards the small window table and invited Catherine to be seated. Without saying a word, the same young man brought a small salad. Catherine easily picked up silent communication between Susana and her employee. She had not lived with the sensitivity of Vincent and Jacob without knowing when increased energy was exchanged between two people.
'Your daughter in law is quite accomplished. It is important of course that she have the right backing to participate in these community committees. There are some very distinguished people who are members. We have to be careful of course.'
'Of what?' Catherine's smile remained fixed. She allowed a piece of lettuce to enter her mouth despite feeling nausea born out of disgust.
'Just that the knowledge she brings, is...uh... fair to other members.'
'I am sure that won't be a problem. She is grounded, knowledgeable, well educated and willing to work for the good of the women mandated in the committee's governance.'
Susana frowned. The young man appeared at her side immediately and removed the plates. Susanna had eaten nothing. A second plate soon arrived. It appeared to be some type of shrimp and avocado delicacy. Catherine did her best to eat. Susana picked.
'Catherine, I have to ask these questions. I hope you don't mind. Each of us brings a certain resumé of skills and contacts to the committee.'
'Really, I thought Howard asked people to join because they were philanthropic.'
'Well, yes but he knows us.'
The emphasis on 'knows' rankled. 'He knows me. I have known my daughter in law since the day she was born. She is also my namesake and... my Goddaughter.'
Susana may have been a snob but she also knew when to back off. Catherine's tone took on a new dimension. 'I hope you are enjoying the meal?' she added sidetracking from the issue.
'It's quite delicious. Is your chef Swedish?'
'He is. How did you know?'
'The style, preparation and placement of the food. Their presentation is quite unique.'
Susana seemed slightly deflated. The eyes following the young man, who finally brought the coffee to end the meal, were naked with desire. Catherine was disgusted. More than once she wondered if Howie was making decisions without the astute awareness she had observed in him from early on.
Catherine couldn't wait to leave. She pleaded a prior engagement and did not linger after the lunch.
'I am sure we will welcome your Daughter in law to our group Catherine. As you know I am quite busy and unable to be there often but you can always call me if there's any other concerns.'
Since Catherine did not have any concerns at the outset she ended on the pointed note 'and, I am fairly certain there won't be anything further.'
Back in the van, Catherine instructed Rob to leave open the window. She was desperately in need of fresh air. Over the sound of the air flow, she asked Rob the one thing which had puzzled her. 'Didn't you bring your gun Rob? I thought you never left home without it?'
'I have it. I always will. I don't know why people hire incompetent people to do jobs which require attention to detail. That young man couldn't save himself if he had to fight his way out of a wet paper bag.' It was Rob's longest personal opinion in awhile. Catherine chuckled and relaxed. She knew then that she was well taken care of.
California
'Your Father called me today Jay.'
'What's up?'
'He's worried about Philippe. I don't know what to say.'
'You?'
Terry shook a fist in the direction of her husband's smirk. 'This is different.'
'Come on Terry. You've known for years that Phil has suffered with depression. Ever since he came back from Montreal he's been unable to function. Dad has never seen him this low.' Jason's worry communicated itself to his wife. 'This is your area of expertise.'
'Yeah, well as much as I love the two of them, they have never invited me into the intimacy of their lives. It feels a little weird to be honest.'
'What do you mean?'
'I don't mean their intimacy as men together Jason. I mean, this a parent kind of thing. Parents are kind of hands off.'
Jason and Terry were seated around the breakfast table at their home. After their marriage, they moved out of Jason's apartment, sold it quickly, rented out Terry's condo and bought a home just outside of the city. Terry had loved the drive up to the hills and the breathtaking scenery when she had been working with Catherine. The couple found a lovely three bedroom bungalow, within a reasonable drive from their respective work places and settled in. Young Laddie sat at the table playing with his cereal watching his parents discuss things he didn't understand.
'Well, I don't know what to do. Dad has also told me how worried he is. Did he tell you about the child?'
'Yes. That's such a sad story. I wonder how many times that has been played out in Phil's mind?' Terry paused watching her husband's face. His concern communicated itself to her and she relented. ' I am willing to talk with him but he has to be willing to talk to me also.'
'Call him today, please Babe.'
'I can never refuse you. You know that.'
After Jason left for work, Terry picked up the phone and put it down just as quickly. Requesting a meeting would do no good. He'd probably just say no. She wondered how to approach Philippe. As soon as the nanny arrived to take Laddie to his day school, she quickly dressed and headed towards the home which the two men shared.
Philippe opened the door wearily. His careless dress and attitude spoke volumes. Here was a man in deep emotional trouble. The chin stubble and dark circles were the best indicator of his state of mind. Both gave him a 'racoon-ish' appearance although the analogy could not be further from the truth. Philippe had lost more than he gained. 'Have you come to rescue me?' he muttered without a smile of welcome.
'By the look of you, it would take more than what I have to offer.'
Philippe was clearly taken aback by the tone. Terry didn't mince words. He knew she was capable of being blunt but he also knew she had a kind and giving heart. He wasn't sure which he wanted at that moment. His self-hate didn't allow any room for kindness and yet as Terry looked up into the sad eyes her heart melted.
She followed him into his music room. The large piano sat near the window. Philippe stood and looked out at the scenery. In fact he was hiding the tears which filled his eyes.
'Phil, you can trust me you know.'
'Oui, je sais, ma belle fille.'
Terry got up and went to wrap her arms around the man who brought such beautiful music and culture into her life. He had not turned around and she rested her head against his back, feeling his sobs. How long they stood together she didn't know but she was determined to hold him until he pushed her away. Eventually he turned and gathered her into his arms.
'You know and understand grief, Terry. The people you have lost in your life...it is so painful to contemplate.'
'Yes but this is not about me Phil. It's about you. I am willing to listen. Those of us who love you are ready to help you through this.'
Philippe put her away from him then. He invited her to sit. After a while he spoke softly about the events of his trip, including the past experience of his father's rejection which contributed to the long history of his depression.
'You know, I always thought you were French-Canadian.'
'It was easier to portray that than to remember my mother and siblings as I had last seen them.'
What will you do now Phil? Has Hélène said whether she will come or not?'
'Before she comes there is something I must do.' At her questioning glance, he said, 'I must open the box.'
'If you want to, I'll stay here and be with you.'
Philippe grabbed her hand. 'I think I am afraid to love her in death when I could not in life. You are here, the closest I will ever have to a daughter. Do you think she will mind if I share her with you?' Terry remembered the day that she tried on the wedding dress which Erin had made and what she had said when Erin burst into tears. In this tender moment with Phil, she could again be a surrogate for the deceased daughter.
Philippe retrieved the box from his bedroom and placed it on a low table. Soft music played in the background. His hands trembled. Terry took the small key from the fold of the ribbon and unlocked the flap. She returned key and lock to the ribbon for safety and invited Philippe to open the lid. He did so with some trepidation.
Inside flattened sheets of paper filled all but one corner. The top sheet greeted his weary eyes with a childish scrawl.
My name is Madie. Philippe traced each line of the words with his finger. The sobs returned. It was heartbreaking to hear and see. He handed the top sheet to Terry and quickly scanned each one in order. Hélène had lined them up year by year, allowing him to watch her childish handwriting grow into a teenager, until the child's innocence was halted by Guy's sexual intrusion into her life. By age thirteen, Madie had become Madeleine. She was dreaming about going to Spain and marrying the handsome prince of her fantasies. She would be Princess Madalena wearing a beautiful gown, a golden crown perched atop her head.
Philippe laughed at her fanciful dreams but they were in keeping with Hélène's description of their daughter's character. What he knew is that if she had been born and raised as his legitimate daughter, she would have grown up in the castle he once called home. There would be lots of time for regret about all things lost. For the moment, he was lost in her delightful childhood.
The small box containing her last known effects stood in a corner. Philippe drew it out and removed the lid. The blackened jewellery inside had never been cleaned. The heart shaped gold pendant seemed to come to life in his hands. He replaced it carefully in the box not ready for any energy which could still be contained in its lines.
At the bottom, were the very things which Philippe had dreaded more than anything. 'Ma belle fille, please, look for me. Tell me of her loveliness.'
Terry drew the last papers out of the box and stared at the first faded photo of his deceased daughter. Her gasp could not be held back.
'What is it?'
'Oh my God Phil! She is exquisite!' Terry stared at the photo for so long. It was a face she had seen before but could not place the resemblance. She took out others of Madeleine taken at various ages. Perhaps it was just because her natural father sat at her side. Perhaps the child was merely a young replica of her father. Terry didn't know why but she felt such an abundance of love. It was not just for the lost child but also for the man who gave her life. That he should miss the joy of raising her to become the woman whose potential was inherent in the childish dreams seemed a shame.
Terry kneeled on the couch and wrapped her arms around her father in law. She handed him the photo of his child. His wonderment was a joy to watch. Terry let go of him when it was clear that he could cope.
'Mon Dieu! She exactly resembles my mother! She was truly my child.
New York City
You know Holly, we could get an office and meet there.'
I really like these lunch meetings. The atmosphere is so relaxed. I am already getting stressed by this pregnancy although I know everything is fine.'
'I see you have stopped wearing your wig.'
'I get so hot. Brian is fine with me uncovering my hair. It was really my father who insisted. Since Virgil is in jail and no one else is coming for me, I feel safe enough to cover it with a scarf or hat.'
'I never really understood what that was about. Is it something you can share with me?'
'You know that our Diosa culture is a combination of so many religious doctrines. There are several in which the women are not allowed to uncover their 'glory' including Judaism but my golden hair made me stick out like a sore thumb in India. So it was partly to protect me and partly to maintain the Diosa culture.'
'I don't think I ever asked if you were born there or here?'
'Here really, but my Dad didn't want it to be known. He took me back as soon as I could travel.'
'I don't mean to pry but as we get closer and talk more, it is easier to understand this bond we share as well as each other.'
'Oh Cathy, you have been a wonderful friend. Especially in view of the relationship you had with Brian. I don't want to have any secrets from you. When I don't share, it's because I don't know. For example, everything about my mother is lost to me. Dad kind of told me early that she died at my birth and I wasn't to ask any more questions about her.'
'That's hard.'
'Not if you knew him before his conversion. He was a manipulative tyrant.'
'Ouch!'
'Don't worry. I had lots of reasons to defy him every single day of my life and that's why I am so grateful to Jacob for the conversion. Now, he's become a man I can really love but he is even less accessible to me than he was before.'
'Brian was very much like that too. He has changed a lot Holly.'
'I hadn't even thought of that but I never knew him before. I'm glad that I'll only know him like he is now.'
'Both of us have had strange lives,' Cathy mused, thinking about what a conversion really meant.
The two women fell silent for awhile. Before their late afternoon meal, they had been together at the new location. They both did a walk through to ensure that the facility had all the necessary safeguards. There would be no grand opening, just increased activity between the cubby hole in the park and the new facility. Cathy put that out of her mind as she sat in contemplation of what they had achieved in record time. She was confident that there would be problems, but not insurmountable ones. After all, she had done this before without Holly's generous support.
She turned her mental attention to Jacob and his amazing ability to create change. Cathy had questions for her husband.
Vincent and Catherine sat cuddled together in their favourite chair. She wanted to talk. He did not. With incredible restraint, she held her tongue. Vincent had been struggling with some drainage problems below. As soon as one area was secure, another opened. The excess rain had found its way through closed passages, flooding some of the lower chambers. Mouse was really the only engineer below but some of the more vigorous floods were beyond his skill. Vincent would have to seek outside help. The challenge was always about security.
'I hear a lot of music upstairs. What are they doing?' he asked idly, stroking his wife's arm.
'Learning to dance. Jacob has found music which fills his heart. Apparently he can follow the beat quite easily and Cathy is teaching him to apply it to music.'
Vincent sighed, feeling Catherine's urgency. 'Did you find anything to fill your heart today Catherine?'
It might have been a perfect moment to ramble on about Susana, her snobbish ways and her apparent lack of interest in anything except the young man who waited on her hand and foot, but Catherine set those thoughts aside. Cuddling closer to her weary husband she responded, 'only this moment with you fills my heart right now.'
Grateful for her understanding ways, held his wife tightly saying nothing further, well into the darkening night.
Upstairs, Jacob seemed to have mastered the last of his steps. They ran through the song one more time before Cathy called a halt. She still had questions. In her single minded way she was determined to get answers but she waited until silence had fallen in the house and they could talk together in the hushed whispers which she loved.
'Jacob, when you do conversions with people, what exactly does that mean?'
'Is this about me invading your mind? I told you I would never do that Cathy.'
'Don't be upset. I just wondered what it means. Is it like hypnosis?'
Jacob leaned back in bed, staring at the celing. 'In an adversarial role, as I was with Kardin, Brian and others, I need to first of all protect myself from a negative energy which they direct towards me. Then to diffuse their energy, I send out a positive light. I am looking for an open hole in their aura. If my motives are true and right, I am able to neutralize the negative and allow the energy dialogue to effect a conversion as it enters their bodies as truth and light. Sometimes I have to find pathways of the nerve fibres which are criss crossed as I did with Brian. That's slightly different.'
'OK, that makes sense to me. I know your motives are pure. But can someone who is a negative person control another's thought and memory?'
'Yes, if they are vulnerable. You spent time with Holly today. Is there something that worries you?'
'You see...that's what I mean. How did you figure that out?'
'It's a simple 2 + 2. I am a lawyer Cathy and investigations and deductions are programmed into our work.'
'Of course...I'm sorry. There is something about Holly which puzzles me. When she talks about her mother, it's as if her mind is programmed to repeat a particular answer. She says it in the same type of voice all the time and very nearly the same words.'
'Sounds like post hypnotic suggestion. Her father was quite capable of that kind of mind manipulation.'
'That's what she said.'
'Seems like some of that old black magic.'
'You can't tell me that you didn't know that's not original?'
'I knew. I also have some icy fingers to run up and down your spine.'
'Oh Jacob,' she laughed turning into his arms. Their conversation was ended but not forgotten. Cathy had a trail of her own she wished to pursue.
