Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [66]
“Ollie will be fine. I gave him one of Pete’s socks and an old shirt. He sleeps with them. As long as you walk him every four hours, he’s fine. He knows Pete’s coming back. He likes your house. There’s lots of room for him to run around. It’s hard for me to believe we’ve been here a whole month. When are we going to meet my grandmother? Have you given any thought to the fact that she might not welcome us with open arms?”
“I don’t think there will be a problem. I thought it best to wait until Pete was over his surgery. There would be less strain on you and the boy. My mother, too, for that matter. My plan is to take you to the house on Sunday. Did your father ever tell you about the courtyard?”
“No.”
“It’s just perfect for a little boy to play in. It’s all bricked with fountains and flowers and walls. Moss grows between the bricks. There’s a magnificent old oak tree Pete will itch to climb as he gets a little older. It was my favorite place when I was little. Your mother and I used to climb it and scare the daylights out of our mother. She said we were agile as monkeys.”
“What was my mother like?”
“She was so very pretty. She was kind. Sometimes siblings aren’t kind to one another, but she was. She always had time for me. I imagine I was a bit of a pest back in those days.”
“Was my father devastated when she died? Is that why he turned out the way he is? Why did he take me away?”
“I can only guess and repeat the things I heard the grown-ups say. I don’t know if it’s true or not. Your father wasn’t fond of working. My parents supported your mother and father for a long time. They didn’t want their oldest daughter to lack for anything. Maybe they overwhelmed your father. Maybe he thought he wasn’t good enough to belong to the family. But because your mother loved him, my parents made the best of it. Perhaps they shouldered too much of the burden. I simply don’t know, Nancy. What I do know for a fact is your mother had a very healthy bank account, thanks to your grandparents. She had a lot of jewelry that he took along with the money. Jewelry that should go to you. I don’t know if he sold it off or not. I do know he cleaned out the bank account. That’s about all I can tell you.”
“Tell me about my grandmother.”
Here it was, the one thing he didn’t want to talk about. How was he to tell this anxious mother he really didn’t know his own mother? “You’ll like her. She can be warm and witty. She never much cared for cooking or keeping house. My father indulged her and let her work in the cornmeal plant. She did a wonderful job but for some reason she was not up for change. She wanted to keep everything the way it was. It was almost as though she found herself caught up in a time warp. You see, things changed after your mother died, and then my other sister died. It was very hard on her. I’m sure she will dote on Pete. She’s frail now, and she lives in the French Quarter—in our old house—with her sisters. They watch soap operas and play cards. You and Pete will be like a breath of fresh air for all of them. There’s nothing for you to worry about on that score. The doctor’s coming,” Paul said, squeezing his niece’s hands.
“The boy’s fine. You can see him now if you like. He’s not quite awake, but he did ask about Ollie. I assumed he was a pet, so I said he was sleeping. You might want to reassure him on that score. Pete will hear, in time—a month, possibly a little longer—just like any other little boy.”
“Thank you so much,” Nancy said tearfully as she clung to Paul’s arm.
“If you follow me, I’ll take you to Pete’s room.”
Paul stared through the glass at the little boy lying in the hospital bed, a nurse at his side. “I’ll leave you two alone, Nancy. It’s time to walk Ollie. I thought I would take a Polaroid shot of the dog and bring it back later. I have some meetings scheduled for this afternoon, but I’ll stop on the way home from work. This evening I’ll bring Josie by. I know she wants to see Pete.”
Nancy stared at her son, only half-hearing her