Eulia trailed Els up the stairs, past the study door and into the bedroom. Staring at the carved mahogany bed frame hung with voile curtains, she said, “You got youself a house inside a house.”
“That bed had tapestries woven with all the wild animals and flowers on the moors,” Els said. “As a child, I’d close them to shut out the world.”
“You gon’ need more dan curtains, if you wan be safe from that jumbie,” Eulia said. The cupboard door was ajar, admitting a view of Jack’s shirts. She stepped closer. “You just invitin’ trouble keepin’ he things.”
“I like their man smell.”
Eulia plucked at a sleeve, yellowed on the crease, and sniffed. “Get youself a live man for that.” She poked her toe at a pair of shoes stretched on Brooks Brothers shoe trees and green with mold. “He doan never put he feet inside, but he polish them every week.” She hugged her elbows. “These things pullin’ him,” she said. “You toss them out, maybe he leave you ’lone.”
“Never said he was bothering me.”
Eulia closed the cupboard and secured the latch.
In the bathroom, Eulia leaned out the new casement window that served as a door to the rebuilt shower platform, ran her hand along the rim of the tub, and fingered a monogrammed hand towel. “House doan look like a man place now.”
“I’d call it a draw,” Els said.
On the way back, Eulia stopped at the study door. “Jack doan like nobody in there,” she said. “He doan even let me dust.”
Els stepped inside, but Eulia leaned against the doorframe, her big eyes darting around the room. “He leave more than I thought,” she said. “The day before August Monday, he drink ’til he vex. Make a big fire in the court and burn up papers and pictures.” A faraway expression tinged with sadness came over her face. “He destroy lot a things.”
“I heard he could be a bit, well, crazy. Violent, even, especially when drunk.”
“He say nasty lies, burst bad words,” Eulia said. She dropped her eyes. “He say he can’t bear to look at me no more.” The case clock rattled into action. Eulia started. Three bongs rang through the house.
“How long did you do for Jack?” Els asked. “’Bout eighteen months.” Eulia walked to the desk and peered at the postcards and photographs tacked above it. She pulled off a snapshot of a Japanese woman on the Resort wharf, a blazing sunset behind her.
“That bonfire night was the last time you saw him?”
Eulia tossed the photo onto the desk. “No reason to come back.”
When fat raindrops began to splatter on the gallery and the lounge slipped into gray, Els lit all the lamps and served her guests iced tea and fingers of banana bread. She tried to answer Vivian’s questions about her former job, struggling to put the financial jargon into lay terms.
“Jason know all about fi-nance,” Eulia said.
“Iguana’s Jason?” Els said. “What could that smartass know about investment banking?”
“He loan Daddy money for his motor,” Eulia said.
Vivian looked at Finney, who was glaring at Eulia. “Did he now?” she said.
“Miss, you make this nice cake?” Finney said.
“Jamaican bakery,” Els said. “I’m clueless in the kitchen.”
Eulia’s lip twitched and she looked down at Peanut, asleep in her lap. Els mentally ticked through the skills that gave women status here, all of which she lacked: mothering, cooking, housekeeping, tending to neighbors, teaching. She was no good at praying, either.
After the rain, the garden steamed in the sun, releasing its fragrances. Els placed a sack of books into Vivian’s lap. Vivian clasped it and smiled. “Husband,” she said, “see if you can get me back down without shaking the teeth out of my head.”
Eulia put Peanut in the Jeep and went back to brace the front of the chair while Finney eased Vivian down. Finney’s flip-flop slid on the wet step and he sat down hard; the wheelchair lurched, the handle twisting out of his grip. The chair tipped and Vivian let out a cry. Eulia tried to steady the chair, but the weight was too much and it fell over, pinning her leg and spilling Vivian into the plantings below.
Els yanked the chair off Eulia. It bumped down the steps and crashed into Wilma’s fender. Peanut started to wail. Els hurried to Vivian, who lay facedown in the muddy flower bed next to the new clump of heliconia. One of its lobster claw flowers dangled on a shredded stalk above her