* * *
At night, Lucy slept with Claire in her room. They gossiped together like girlfriends, as they had so many years before.
“Why did you come?” Claire asked.
“I wanted to see you. And the gallery closed. Javier and I broke up.”
“It’s good you came home.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on here,” Lucy said.
Claire didn’t answer.
“Kind of a commune feel. That’s cool with me, but you don’t want Gwen to see this.”
“He’ll be leaving soon.”
* * *
During her days there, Lucy’s assuming normalcy affected the others to pretend the same. She plugged in the phones and called Gwen, told her about the charming Jean-Alexi, spent hours with him getting the irrigation lines back in working order. She convinced him to move the remaining furniture back in the house, assuming Claire had sold the rest, and Claire did not contradict her. She screwed in lightbulbs, found a used piano in the want ads to replace the one that was sold, according to Claire because it no longer held a tune.
Forster came over, and although he was unhappy about the state of things, Lucy and Claire’s acceptance made him hold his objections. Privately he told Claire he was starting the search for a foreman. In a few weeks if things didn’t improve, he would have the man replaced.
Once Claire caught Jean-Alexi and Lucy smoking a joint on the porch and giggling, stopping when she approached. Another time, she saw Jean-Alexi cup his hand over Lucy’s elbow as he talked to her. Was this another subtle threat? Seducing the daughter?
Another Jean-Alexi would approach Claire when she was alone. He came into her room, unbidden, late in the mornings and stood over her, businesslike and menacing.
“Time for you to sign, and I get leaving.”
“We don’t seem to be communicating. Ask Forster to give you his ranch.”
His face grew pained and tight. “I got things to do, people to see. Can’t spend much more time here.”
“That’s too bad. I’ll hate to see you go.”
“You have money in your bank account. Jewelry. How about a loan?”
“Can’t.”
He sighed, stretched, swayed his hips. “That’s one juicy daughter you have.”
Claire said nothing.
“Thinks I’m quite the man. I’m this close,” he said, pinching his thumb and index finger closed. “Told her I’m goin’ to perform a vodou ceremony. That got her hot and excited.”
* * *
Alone in bed, Claire stroked Lucy’s hair. “I don’t want you spending time alone with Jean-Alexi.”
“Oh, Mom.”
“I’m serious.”
“He’s fascinating.”
“He might be … he is dangerous.” Lucy’s face immediately dropped, and Claire recognized that long-ago look of fear in her eyes. Whatever Claire did, she needed to keep this from her, otherwise her distrust would give them away. “I just mean Minna tells me he’s a real ladies’ man. I don’t want you hurt.”
The furrow between Lucy’s eyes relaxed. She dropped her head back on the pillow. “Oh, Mom, I’m a big girl now.”
* * *
But the isolation of the house was getting to Lucy. “How about we go out for dinner?” she suggested.
“I miss Minna’s cooking,” Jean-Alexi protested.
“I’m sure she would like a break, too.”
“I’m fine,” Minna mumbled.
“You cook,” he said.
“Let’s all just go to a movie or for drinks.”
“You and me go. Minna and Maman want to stay home and take it easy.”
Lucy hesitated. “That would hurt their feelings.”
* * *
The next afternoon, arguing could be heard from in the barn. Minna came in with a swollen eye, holding her stomach.
“What happened?”
She looked around the room, disoriented. “I tripped and hit the corner of a table.”
Neither Claire nor Lucy said a word, but Claire squeezed her daughter’s hand.
“Jean-Alexi has decided it is time for the ceremony.”
“Ceremony?”
Minna handed them a crudely lettered piece of cardboard.
YOUR INVITED TO A HEALING
FOR ERZULIE, SAMEDI, AGATHA,
N BRIGETTE POST YA TIME SOON
“All the spirits need to be thanked.”
“No, I don’t want to do that,” Claire said.
Lucy clapped her hands, relief on her face. “Oh, how fun. Can I help?”
* * *
Surprisingly many mirrors accumulate throughout a house over the years — in bedrooms, closets, and even in dark hallways to give the illusion of openness and size, to give onlookers time to organize the face they show to the world. Minna had returned the collection that had formerly been banished in the barn, and it felt like coming full circle, from being denied to being forcibly shown. The mirrors were spaced out along empty floors, substitutes for bodies of water, which attracted and reflected the spirit world. In addition to that, Minna said they were lucky to have the pool, especially in its new brown-green opacity, which reflected one’s face back as detailed as any mirror.
As Claire passed between the mirrors, she caught glimpses of her underneath self — rosy chin, delicate, short, curling hair. If one didn’t look too closely, she resembled the young girl she was when she first moved into the house, returning health giving her a false youth. When she crossed Minna alone, she hissed, “I know he hit you. It’s not just you alone now. Let me call the police. Or at least Forster.”
“No, please wait. If you care for me,” Minna begged.
“I won’t let Lucy be hurt.” Claire bided her time.
* * *
As it grew dark, they were summoned by Minna, dressed all in white, a priestess, the house lit by hundreds of tea candles on the floor, multiplied in the mirrors’ reflections into thousands. Jean-Alexi came in dressed in his usual rags, but he had added a straw hat and a pair of sunglasses. One lens in, one out, so he could see in both worlds at once. He held out his hand to Minna. “Ma femme, Maman Brigette.”
Solemnly he led them single file up the stairs and into Minna’s room.
It was a mystery that now the room was empty it still felt so dense, so teeming. Candles everywhere giving movement to the figures on the wall as if they pulsed and writhed in their own anticipation. In the middle of the floor, a brazier dragged in from outside on which wood was burning. Smells of cinnamon and nutmeg, grass and flowers, the unmistakably oceany tang of salt. In a bowl on a small table lay the gold necklace Claire had given Minna.
“Come here, Agatha,” Jean-Alexi said, and Claire started at the name but went to him and allowed him to drape her in her old yellow bathrobe. On his breath, she smelled alcohol. So clear to her that this was a bit of fakery, a B-movie set piece. Minna set a jug of the elixir between them and poured out cups for each. Lucy hesitated and Jean-Alexi reached over and tipped the bottom so that she had to gulp it and still it dribbled down her chin. Claire’s heart was beating so hard she thought it would explode in her chest, as if one could overdose on fullness.
Jean-Alexi turned the transistor radio on and flipped channels till he stopped at some techno-disco stuff. Lucy giggled, and the two did some bump-and-grind dance while Minna poured another round of the elixir. Now she made a paste of nutmeg and lime juice and came to Claire, taking off her robe, but when she tugged at her shirt, Claire resisted.