"Really? How could you know someone here?"
"Right," I said. "How could I?"
She looked at me with a confused smile on her face. "Don't start pulling Mrs. Cookie stuff on me, Celeste. Not now, not after our wonderful beginning."
"Mrs. Cookie stuff?"
"Never mind," she said, and a moment later she began to talk about what we should wear on our first evening out with Wade. She wanted me to wear the red tube dress we had bought at Le Monde, one of the boutiques. It had a slit skirt and rhinestone trim on the top.
When we returned to the house, we learned Wade hadn't returned home yet. Ami was annoyed.
"He better not appear and tell me he forgot to make our reservation at Hunters," she warned. "Not that it would matter," she added. "I know the owner too well. He'd go out and buy another table if he had to, to please me. To dress!" she shouted like a battle cry, and charged into her bedroom.
Mrs. Cukor brought up all the packages and bags and boxes that I couldn't carry. Hardly glancing at me, she began putting everything away.
"I can do that, Mrs. Cukor," I told her.
She ignored me and continued to hang up the dresses, skirts, and blouses. Rather than argue with her, I went into the bathroom to take a quick bath, taking great care not to mess up my hair or my makeup. When I emerged, she was gone. Even the makeup had been set out neatly on the vanity table. I shrugged and thought to myself that I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth just because the horse acted strange. I'll just avoid her, I thought. It wasn't critical to my living here that she like me, or I like her.
I thought I would just take a short rest and lie down on my bed. After a few moments, I realized I smelled something new, something redolent. I sat up, and the smell diminished. More curious than ever now, I lowered myself to my pillow and sniffed. Then I lifted the pillow and saw leaves I recognized as dill, basil, and clove. The clove was the strongest smell. I scooped it all into my palms and stared at it.
The odors and the sight of the herbs revived old images and memories, like similar leaves tied on doors and on windows. I remembered why my mother put them there. To find them here, under my pillow, made me angry. It wasn't difficult to understand how these herbs got here I carried them all in my palms to the doorway.
When I opened the door and stepped out, I saw Mrs. Cukor closing the door of the bedroom Basil Emerson used. She had just finished cleaning up in there. I waited for her to turn and look my way.
"Did you put this under my pillow?" I asked, and held out my hands to show her the leaves.
She glanced at them but said nothing and started toward the stairway.
"I know what this is supposed to mean," I said, chasing after her. "Why did you put it under my pillow? Why?" I demanded, raising my voice.
At the top of the stairway she turned, her eyes darkening as she narrowed them and peered into my face.
"I knew it when I saw the dead bird. It was a sign, a warning. You brought it into this house, the evil eye. I must drive it out before it does even greater harm," she said, turning and starting down the stairway.
"Brought . . . what?" I cried after her. "What are you talking about? What evil eye did I bring into this house?"
She paused and looked up at me, a wry smile on her pale lips.
"You know," she said. She nodded. "You know."
She continued down the stairway and didn't look at me again until she reached the bottom. Then she turned, looked at me, made the sign of the cross over her breasts, and walked away. My heart didn't beat fast as much as it beat hard, pounding under my breast. A cold feeling passed over the back of my neck and then, like a melting icicle, dripped and ran down my spine.
I thought for a moment, and then I spun around.
And he was standing there.
Noble.
He had returned, and he was more than simply a memory, more than Dr. Sackett had described, more than merely a projection of guilt or fear.
He was there!
What frightened me, however, was that he was smiling with glee.
7 Appearances Are Everything
.