But instead of finding two women in the parlor, there were three. The one who didn’t live there wiped her red-rimmed, watery eyes with the lace sleeve of a dress scattered with nosegays so vibrant they could have been plucked from the gardens along the rows of cottages. Her tignon, bands of watercolored silks, complemented the flowers spilling over the yards of taffeta that surrounded her. The cane chair Gabriel knew she had to be sitting on had disappeared under the wide bellshaped skirt. Living with his mother and Alcee, Gabriel had learned more than he wanted about fashion and fabrics. He knew enough, though, to know that the young woman’s gown could pay his sister’s tuition for a year.
To get the food he wanted required walking through the parlor to the dining room. Or walking outside and through the narrow alley to the rear of the house. But he had already made eye contact with his mother, who looked too relieved to see him. He was trapped.
“Look, Alcee, Gabriel is home.” Rosette sounded very much as she did on Carnival when he and Alcee were younger and she attempted to distract them from the long wait for the procession by pointing out pirates and devils and strangely-put-together animals. Even now, his sister brightened, much happier to see him than on most days. Perhaps because her penance had ended and she could be released from her mother and the visitor.
Rosette moved from the ornate wood-and-cane settee in one fluid motion, walked to the door, and escorted Gabriel to the young woman, who, despite the soft hiccups and tears, managed to appear striking. The damp fringes of eyelashes, the full lips, even the wisps of dark brown hair that strayed from her stylish tignon might have, on a dance floor, seemed calculated to entice.
“This is my son, Gabriel.” Rosette paused. “This is Mademoiselle Serafina Lividaus. She recently moved to a house on Rue Esplanade.”
Serafina looked up at Gabriel and nodded without extending her hand, which would have been awkward, since only moments before she had wiped away tears from her eyes and nose.
“I am pleased to meet you,” he said. She didn’t look much older than Alcee, but something about the dullness in her eyes suggested she had already experienced far more than his sister. He felt the soft press of his mother’s hand on his back and mentally groaned, anticipating being steered to the settee. Instead, she turned him in the direction of the dining room.
“Alcee, p’tit, please show your brother the meal I saved for him while Serafina and I stay in the parlor to finish our discussion.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said and moved with uncharacteristic speed to Gabriel’s side.
Rosette patted his cheek. The scent of the eucalyptus she’d used earlier in the filé lingered on her hand. “Thank you for your help today.”
The white embroidered lace tablecloth from their earlier meal still covered the table. Gabriel served himself rice then lifted the top of the tureen to ladle the still-steaming shrimp and gumbo into his bowl. Alcee carried three chunks of bread from the sideboard, served two to Gabriel, and kept the other for herself. She pulled out a chair across from him and then, as if she’d changed her mind, walked to the edge of the dining room and pulled the secreted doors closed.
“Now we can talk,” she said.
“My stomach talked to me and told me to feed it. I’ll listen while you tell me about the visit to the Academy this afternoon.”
“Well.” She breathed in and out like she was preparing to start a footrace, glanced to her right, then looked back at Gabriel. The ringlets in her hair, which had been pulled to one side, continued to sway from the motion, too playful an action for the serious expression on her face.
Gabriel tore a piece of bread and chewed it with deliberate slowness to prevent a smile. From the first time Alcee had toddled over to him, demanding to be taken to the market and pummeling his leg with her plump little fists until he relented, Gabriel knew she would not be afraid to ask for what she wanted. Over the years, she’d learned when to push and when to pull and was growing into a strong young woman because of her confidence. Unfortunately, that was not a quality considered attractive to men or sometimes even other women. And it often placed her in an orbit outside the universe of her peers.
“The director writes short stories, so I am certain he can teach writing. The school is in a nice building.” She handed him a piece of her bread, which meant she wanted it dipped into the gumbo and returned, continuing to talk as she waited. “But the students did not spend much time talking to me after Mother left to talk to Monsieur Seligny. I don’t think they liked me.”
Gabriel handed Alcee her bread then served himself another bowl. His sister was not one to be pacified with platitudes. He dismissed responding as he might to his own friends, telling them that things would get better, to give it another chance, or, depending on the friend, to pray. “Did you talk to them? Politely?”