The Thousand - Kevin Guilfoile [64]
Nada didn’t believe in ghosts, but a long, slow chill went through her, beginning at her toes, and like water filling a tub, the tingling rose up her back to the bottom of her neck. It bothered her that she might be affected by the suggestion, as if the superstitions of the previous occupants—devils and evil spirits and demonic possessions—might somehow be visited on her. Her mother had no religion at all, not that Nada could ever discern. Her father had believed in something he called the Unity or, sometimes, the One. When her mother wasn’t around, he would sometimes try to explain it, to pass along his passion for it. The One was something like the God her Christian and Jewish friends worshipped, a creator anyway, except that He didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, intervene in people’s lives. Nonetheless, her father said, everyone was connected to the One—all living things together making up the Unity—and the goal of this life was to one day be reunited with the One. Or something like that. Her mother would become annoyed when she heard him talking about it. It was just another of her father’s idiosyncrasies, and she hardly paid attention. Nada never saw much sense in hoping for a God that didn’t care about her.
“I suppose the Church decided at some point that the Cardinal’s home needn’t be so conspicuous,” Jameson said. “Best piece of property in the city—by the lake, on the park, at the edge of downtown. We did a lot of interior renovations, as you can see. When we started, there were thirty-five rooms, and now it’s more like twenty-five. We kept the chapel and we bring in ensembles to play for special guests every few months. I wouldn’t say we gutted the place, but we performed invasive surgery for sure. Still, we tried to preserve the soul of the residence, you know what I mean?”
“A soul.” Is that what I’m feeling?
He nodded reverently. “Buildings get new lives, just the way people do. Buildings leave traces. Memories. You should never try to erase them.”
Quietly, Nada decided what she thought about buildings with souls. She doubted it. But then she doubted that people had them, either. Her mind briefly conjured the image of Phillip Truman. Soulless prick.
Footsteps echoed from beyond the far end of the foyer. A thin woman appeared at one of two doors framing a large old grandfather clock and walked quickly toward them. Nada recognized her wide grin and bright eyes and carefully styled white hair from society pages she’d reviewed in the library.
“Myra!” Jameson said, pleased. “Come meet Canada Gold.”
Handsome Myra Jameson wore her hair short, a white shirt tucked neatly inside a checked skirt, high heels, and enough jewelry to trade straight up for Nada’s car and all its contents.
“It’s a pleasure,” Myra said, blushing as she shook hands. “To be honest, I’ve been terrified of meeting you, Canada. It kept me up all last night.” She glanced at her husband and winked. “You see, Gary has told me about the trick you do. How you know everything about a person in the first instant that you meet them? Here it’s only been a few seconds and I’m horrified just imagining what you know about me!” Her laugh was loud, distinctive as a signature. When Myra Jameson started to laugh, everyone in a room would know it instantly, and they would also want to know what had so amused her.
Nada made the rest of her assessment quietly. When she walked, Myra held herself straight up and down, stiff, like new paper money. Like she’d been told all her life that she wasn’t just a person, but a symbol. To the world, she represented her family, her family’s name, her husband’s name, her alma mater, her sorority, her friends, her country club, her neighborhood, her city, her country, her hemisphere.
And despite her insistence to the contrary, Myra Jameson was not in any way terrified of Canada Gold.
Nada instantly liked her. “No worries, Mrs. Jameson. I love that skirt.”
She beamed and held the hem out for display. “Oh dear, it’s Myra.” Then turning to her husband: “Have you shown her?”
“Of course not, hon. I was waiting for you.”
“Fantastic!