jabbering away and calling the hired cleaning lady names and telling Lacomb not to smoke in the house. Can anyone understand what she says? Do her kids understand what she says?”
“Never figured it out,” I said.
“But you should see that house,” said Roz. “You’ll love it. I tried to tell them.”
“Tell who?”
The elevator came; we went inside. Shock. Hospital elevators are always so immense, big enough to hold the living or the dead stretched out full length and two or three attendants. We stood alone in this vast metal compartment gliding down.
“Tell who what?”
Rosalind yawned. We moved rapidly to the first floor.
“Tell Karl’s family that we always go home after a death, that we always go back, that you wouldn’t want some fancy condominium downtown or a suite in the Windsor Court. Are the Wolfstans really so rich? Or just crazy? They’ve left you cash with me, cash with Althea, cash with Lacomb, cash with Oscar.…”
The elevator doors opened.
“You see that big black car? You own that damn thing. That’s Oscar out there, you know the type, old-guardchauffeur; Lacomb raises his eyebrows behind Oscar’s back, and Althea has no intention of cooking for him.”
“She won’t have to,” I said with a little smile.
I did know the type, caramel skin not quite as light as Lacomb’s, a voice like honey, grizzled hair, and sparkling silver-framed glasses. Very old, too old perhaps to be driving, but so fine, and so traditional.
“You just get right in, Miss Triana,” said Oscar, “and you rest yourself and let me take you home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rosalind relaxed as soon as the door was closed. “I’m hungry.” The privacy panel had gone up between us and Oscar in the front. I liked that. It would be nice to own a car. I couldn’t drive. Karl would not. He had always rented limousines, even for the smallest thing.
“Roz,” I asked as gently as I knew how. “Can’t he take you to eat after I’m settled in?”
“Gee, that would be nice. You sure you want to be alone there?”
“Like you said, we always go home afterwards, don’t we? We don’t run. I’d sleep in that upstairs bed, except that was never mine. That was our bed, Karl’s and mine, in sickness and in health. He wanted to be where the afternoon sun hit the windows. I’d curl right up in his bed. I want to be alone.”
“I figured it,” said Roz. “Katrinka’s silenced for a while. Grady Dubosson produced a paper that said everything Karl had ever given you was yours, and he had signed away any possible claim on your house the day he moved into it, and so that shut her up.”
“She thought Karl’s family would try to take the house?”
“Some crazy thing like that, but Grady showed her the quick claim or the quitclaim. Which is it?”
“I honestly don’t remember.”
“You know what she really wants, of course.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry, Rosalind. Don’t worry at all.”
She turned to me, hunched forward and took on her most grave manner, a hand both rough and soft as she held mine. The car moved up St. Charles Avenue.
“Look,” she said, “Don’t worry about the money Karl was giving us. His old lady laid a pile in my lap, and besides it’s time that Glenn and I tried to make a go of the shop, you know, to actually sell books and records????” She laughed her deep throaty laugh. “You know Glenn, but we are going to be on our own, if I have to go back to nursing, I don’t care what it takes.”
My mind drifted. It was irrelevant. It had only been one thousand a month to keep them afloat. She didn’t know. Nobody knew how much Karl had really left, except Mrs. Wolfstan perhaps, if she had changed all of it.
Over a hidden speaker there came a polite voice.
“Miss Triana, ma’am, you want to drive by the Metairie Cemetery, ma’am?”
“No, thank you, Oscar,” I said, seeing the small speaker above.
We have our grave, he and I, and Lily and Mother and Father.
“I’m
“Never figured it out,” I said.
“But you should see that house,” said Roz. “You’ll love it. I tried to tell them.”
“Tell who?”
The elevator came; we went inside. Shock. Hospital elevators are always so immense, big enough to hold the living or the dead stretched out full length and two or three attendants. We stood alone in this vast metal compartment gliding down.
“Tell who what?”
Rosalind yawned. We moved rapidly to the first floor.
“Tell Karl’s family that we always go home after a death, that we always go back, that you wouldn’t want some fancy condominium downtown or a suite in the Windsor Court. Are the Wolfstans really so rich? Or just crazy? They’ve left you cash with me, cash with Althea, cash with Lacomb, cash with Oscar.…”
The elevator doors opened.
“You see that big black car? You own that damn thing. That’s Oscar out there, you know the type, old-guardchauffeur; Lacomb raises his eyebrows behind Oscar’s back, and Althea has no intention of cooking for him.”
“She won’t have to,” I said with a little smile.
I did know the type, caramel skin not quite as light as Lacomb’s, a voice like honey, grizzled hair, and sparkling silver-framed glasses. Very old, too old perhaps to be driving, but so fine, and so traditional.
“You just get right in, Miss Triana,” said Oscar, “and you rest yourself and let me take you home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rosalind relaxed as soon as the door was closed. “I’m hungry.” The privacy panel had gone up between us and Oscar in the front. I liked that. It would be nice to own a car. I couldn’t drive. Karl would not. He had always rented limousines, even for the smallest thing.
“Roz,” I asked as gently as I knew how. “Can’t he take you to eat after I’m settled in?”
“Gee, that would be nice. You sure you want to be alone there?”
“Like you said, we always go home afterwards, don’t we? We don’t run. I’d sleep in that upstairs bed, except that was never mine. That was our bed, Karl’s and mine, in sickness and in health. He wanted to be where the afternoon sun hit the windows. I’d curl right up in his bed. I want to be alone.”
“I figured it,” said Roz. “Katrinka’s silenced for a while. Grady Dubosson produced a paper that said everything Karl had ever given you was yours, and he had signed away any possible claim on your house the day he moved into it, and so that shut her up.”
“She thought Karl’s family would try to take the house?”
“Some crazy thing like that, but Grady showed her the quick claim or the quitclaim. Which is it?”
“I honestly don’t remember.”
“You know what she really wants, of course.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry, Rosalind. Don’t worry at all.”
She turned to me, hunched forward and took on her most grave manner, a hand both rough and soft as she held mine. The car moved up St. Charles Avenue.
“Look,” she said, “Don’t worry about the money Karl was giving us. His old lady laid a pile in my lap, and besides it’s time that Glenn and I tried to make a go of the shop, you know, to actually sell books and records????” She laughed her deep throaty laugh. “You know Glenn, but we are going to be on our own, if I have to go back to nursing, I don’t care what it takes.”
My mind drifted. It was irrelevant. It had only been one thousand a month to keep them afloat. She didn’t know. Nobody knew how much Karl had really left, except Mrs. Wolfstan perhaps, if she had changed all of it.
Over a hidden speaker there came a polite voice.
“Miss Triana, ma’am, you want to drive by the Metairie Cemetery, ma’am?”
“No, thank you, Oscar,” I said, seeing the small speaker above.
We have our grave, he and I, and Lily and Mother and Father.
“I’m
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