"No, ma'am, it's just..."
"It's just raining harder. Tend to your procedures," she said, and guided me into the house.
"I've got to call my sister," I said. Telling the policeman about her reminded me it was something I should do immediately.
"Well, you go right ahead. The phone's in the kitchen on the wall," she told me, and pointed her cane in the direction of the kitchen.
I walked down to it and sucked in my breath a moment, closing my eyes to gather the strength I would need to tell Brenda everything and to hear her chastise me for staying with Uncle Palaver so long. Then I picked up the receiver. The phone was a rotary type and looked as if it had been manufactured a day after Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone. I dialed Brenda's number and waited. It rang twice, and then a mechanical voice said. "I'm sorry, but this number has been disconnected. There is no
forwarding number." I held the receiver while the message was repeated. That was followed with some number code, and then the phone went dead.
Mrs. Westington was standing in the hallway watching me.
"My sister... is gone," I said. "She's moved out. Her phone's disconnected."
"Doesn't surprise me. Half the world's disconnected," she said. "Go in there and finish your sandwiches and tea. There's plenty of time to do what has to be done."
"I'm not hungry," I said.
"Don't matter. Your body's had a big shock. You'd better fortify, girl, or you'll get sick yourself and not be worth a plumb nickel to anyone. Go on," she commanded.
I returned to the dining room and continued to nibble on the sandwiches. She went to get the water hot again for my tea. As I sat there. I thought again about Brenda. I had to find her. I got an idea and went out to the motor home to get the papers that Brenda had forwarded to me after I left Memphis. Then I hurried back inside.
"What are you up to, girl?" Mrs. Westington asked. "You're letting the water get
cold again."
"I realized a way I might be able to find my sister." I said. "Our attorney should know."
She nodded. "Yes, attorneys usually know everyone's business. Go on. Use the phone again," she said, and brought the kettle back to the kitchen.
I called, and Mr. Weiss came on after his secretary told him who I was. He listened and told me he did know where Brenda was. She was with a team about to leave for Germany, and he had just faxed some documents to her hotel in New York City. He said he would try to reach her immediately.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"Call me for whatever help you need there. April."
He asked for the telephone number, and I asked Mrs. Westington, who stood by listening. She told me. and I gave it to him. He promised to get right on it and try to reach Brenda as soon as possible.
"There's nothing more you can do," Mrs. Westington said after I told her what the attorney had said. "The police know you're here. They'll call."
The rain began to fall harder. We could hear it dancing on the roof as the wind whipped it along.
"A good drenching," Mrs. Wtstinaton said, gazing out the dining room window.
I sat quietly, still feeling dazed. She considered me a moment and then nodded to herself.
"I want you to go lie down now. girl. I'll show you to your room. Don't worry." she said before I could raise any opposition. "When you get a call. I'll let you know. Come along." she ordered, and started out to the stairway. It went up and curved like a "J" onto the second floor of the house. She guided herself with the banister but seemed to have no trouble going up the stairs.
The heavy overcast and rain made the secondstory landing seem even darker than it was. I saw there were no windows, The two chandeliers dripped shadows along the panel walls. She led me to a bedroom immediately off to the right and opened the door.
"I'm sure you'll find it comfortable," she said. "Used to be my daughter's room."
I looked in at a beautiful white and pink canopy bed. The matching dresser, armoire, and vanity table had the same pink swirls in them. A soft, milk-white area rug surrounded the bed.
"I got a Mexican woman comes to clean the house once a week, and she always does this room. Bathroom's in there," she said, pointing her cane at the door on the right. "Just make yourself at home. I'll shout up when your call comes, and you can use that phone.," she added, pointing to an antique brass phone on the nightstand beside the bed.