Wish You Well(18)

Louisa Mae Cardinal. This is my brother, Oscar." There was a tremble to Lou's voice.

She stood her ground, though, only inches from her namesake, and this proximity

revealed a remarkable fact: Their profiles were almost identical. They seemed twins

separated by a mere three generations.

Louisa said nothing, her gaze trailing the ambulance.

Lou noted this and said, "Wasn't she supposed to stay and help look after our mother?

She has a lot of needs, and we have to make sure that she's comfortable."

Her great-grandmother shifted her focus to the Hudson.

"Eugene," Louisa Mae said in a voice possessed of negligible twang, yet which seemed

undeniably southern still, "bring the bags in, honey." Only then did she look at Lou, and

though the stare was rigid, there was something prowling behind the eyes that gave Lou a

reason to feel welcome. "We take good care of your mother."

Louisa Mae turned and went back in the house. Eugene followed with their bags. Oz was

fully concentrating on his bear and his thumb. His wide, blue eyes were blinking rapidly,

a sure indication that his nerves were racing at a feverish pitch. Indeed, he looked like he

wanted to run all the way back to New York City right that minute. And Oz very well

might have, if only he had known in which direction it happened to be.



CHAPTER NINE

THE BEDROOM GIVEN TO LOU WAS SPARTAN AND ALSO the only room on the second

floor, accessed by a rear staircase. It had one large window that looked out over the

farmyard. The angled walls and low ceiling were covered with old newspaper and

magazine pages pasted there like wallpaper. Most were yellowed, and some hung down

where the paste had worn away. There was a simple rope bed of hickory and a pine

wardrobe scarred in places. And there was a small desk of rough-hewn wood by the

window, where the morning light fell upon it. The desk was unremarkable in design, yet

it drew Lou's attention as though cast from gold and trimmed by diamonds.

Her father's initials were still so vivid: "JJC." John Jacob Cardinal. This had to be the

desk at which he had first started writing. She imagined her father as a little boy, lips set

firm, hands working precisely, as he scored his initials into the wood, and then set out

upon his career as a storyteller. As she touched the cut letters, it was as though she had

just put her hand on top of her father's.

For some reason Lou sensed that her great-grandmother had deliberately given her this

room.

Her father had been reserved about his life here. However, whenever Lou had asked him

about her namesake, Jack Cardinal had been effusive in his answer. "A finer woman

never walked the earth." And then he would tell about some of his life on the mountain,

but only some. Apparently, he left the intimate details for his books, all but one of which

Lou would have to wait until adulthood to read, her father had told her. Thus she was left

with many unanswered questions.

She reached in her suitcase and pulled out a small, wood-framed photograph. Her

mother's smile was wide, and though the photograph was black and white, Lou knew the

swell of her mother's amber eyes was near hypnotic. Lou had always loved that color,

even sometimes hoping that the blue in hers would disappear one morning and be

replaced with this collision of brown and gold. The photo had been taken on her mother's

birthday. Toddler Lou was standing in front of Amanda, and mother had both arms

around her child. In the photo their smiles were suspended together for all time. Lou

often wished she could remember something of that day.

Oz came into the room and Lou slipped the photograph back into her bag. As usual, her

brother looked worried.

"Can I stay in your room?" he asked.

"What's wrong with yours?"

"It's next to hers."

"Who, Louisa?" Oz answered yes very solemnly, as though he was testifying in court.

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

"She scares me," he said. "She really does, Lou."

"She let us come live with her."

"And I'm right glad you did come."

Louisa came forward from the doorway. "Sorry I was short with you. I was thinking 'bout

your mother." She stared at Lou. "And her needs."

"That's okay," Oz said, as he flitted next to his sister. "I think you spooked my sister a

little, but she's all right now."

Lou studied the woman's features, seeing if there was any of her father there. She

concluded that there wasn't.

"We didn't have anyone else," Lou said.

"Y'all always have me," Louisa Mae answered back. She moved in closer, and Lou

suddenly saw fragments of her father there. She also now understood why the woman's

mouth drooped. There were only a few teeth there, all of them yellowed or darkened.