“Uncle Z,” I said. “Please!”
“All right then. Z. Just Z.”
I looked at the girl and she was staring at my face and features, but still giggling. “Hello, Star,” I said. “Nice to meet you.” The girl turned her face and buried it in her mama’s chest, being shy, then grabbed Carolina’s chin with her little hands and pulled it down, saying, “Mommy, he’s a boy.” Carolina kissed her on the head and smiled at me. “Yes, he is, honey. He is most certainly a boy. the rarest of boys.”
I took Carolina’s hand in mine and Star watched me carefully. “Are you safe?” I asked. “Have you. seen him?”
Carolina turned and gave Li a sign and he rounded up the other women and shooed them through the opening in the bushes. They left quietly, almost reverently, and for a moment it was like being in China again. Carolina kissed Star on both cheeks and handed her over to Li, who gave me an almost imperceptible glance as he was leaving. I said nothing to him, but nodded in recognition. Star left giggling and saying over and over to herself, “Z, Z, Z.” She had discovered a new sound, letter, and name all in one. Carolina waited until they were all gone, then touched my cheek with her hand and traced my eyebrows, nose, and lips with her fingers.
Quietly she said, “Yes, I am safe, Z. I have not seen him.” She paused and looked away, started to cry and then stopped herself. She turned back to me. “I can’t believe you came. I feel like such a fool now. I sent that letter to Owen Bramley like a crazy woman, but I was so frightened, Z, seeing him out of the blue like that, and knowing that he recognized me, seeing it in his eyes. I had no idea what he might do. I could only think of you. I could only call out to you.” She paused again and looked hard in my eyes, wanting me to know she was sincere. “But I haven’t seen him since, Z. It’s been three months and I haven’t seen or felt a hint, a trace, or a glimpse. Now I’m not even sure he was the one I saw. ”
“It was him,” I said. “You would never be wrong about that. However, I do know from another source that he’s not here. He’s been seen in New Orleans, and logically, he should have no interest in you anyway. Unfortunately, I also know he’s completely unpredictable. And he’s dangerous. We both know that.” I paused and looked at her face and shoulders, her hair and freckles, the shape of her body under the towel. She was so beautiful, so ripe and full of life. I breathed in the sight of her and the sight of her was as rich as the honeysuckle surrounding us. I had made it. I was not too late and she was safe and well. I looked in her eyes and said, “Your daughter looks just like you, I’m afraid.”
She backed away slightly. “ ‘I’m afraid’? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m afraid she’s got no chance. She’s doomed.”
“Z! What do you mean? Don’t scare me. Doomed how?”
“She is doomed and bound to be beautiful, just like her mama. She’s got no chance.”
Carolina gave me that same look she’d given me as a kid, as if I was hopeless. “You’re crazy,” she said. Then she jumped up, holding her towel with one hand and taking my hand with the other. “Come on,” she said, “let me change and I’ll give you the grand tour.”
As we turned to leave, I looked around the space we were in. It was odd. A perfect circle of sweet-smelling bushes at the back of a garden that was closed in on itself. There were day lilies and yellow roses planted at intervals around the inside. They were blooming, but a few other plants were not. They were all well tended. “What is this place?” I asked.
Carolina looked around with wonder and satisfaction. “I don’t know,” she said. “It was here when I moved in. I’m putting different plants all around the inside, so that something will bloom in every season. It’s my private place. I call it the ‘Honeycircle.’ ”
I groaned at the pun and let her lead me not in the direction of the main house but to the carriage house. She told me that was where she and Nicholas and Star had made their living quarters. It made it much easier to keep her “public” and “private” lives separate.
The carriage house was two-storied. The bottom level looked to have basically the same functions it had always had — a storage space for equipment and tools, and stables for draft horses. The upper level had been completely refurbished. Windows that opened outward had been installed all around and a long balcony was attached on two sides of the structure, with one overlooking the “Honeycircle.” There were wide stairs leading up to the balcony, but before we could climb them we had to negotiate a path between all Star’s toys and then remove the largest of them, a tricycle, from in front of the bottom step. Carolina said, “Her daddy spoils her rotten.”
She started up the stairs and I said, “I suppose you’ve bought her nothing.”
“Not a thing,” she said.
We walked inside and it was beautiful, simple, and very comfortable, with the smell of honeysuckle wafting through the windows. It was a real home. Carolina went to change and told me to look around, especially Star’s room.
At first, I simply stood and stared out of the windows, at the life she’d made all on her own, with only the support of Solomon to make it a reality. Remarkable. Then I turned to look around. There were fresh-cut flowers in vases, framed photographs on the mantel, Persian rugs, a few Tiffany lamps, and the constant, sweet smell of honeysuckle everywhere.
I found Star’s room easily. The trail of toys was a quick giveaway. It was a normal child’s room in every way but one. The walls were all painted a deep blue, and on the blue there were hundreds of painted stars. But not the cartoonish stars and moons that usually grace a child’s walls. These were detailed, accurate renderings of all the major stars and constellations in the Milky Way, with their names underneath in bold reds and golds. It was almost a work of art. It was certainly a work of science and wonder.
Carolina had silently slipped in behind me. “Nicholas did this while I was pregnant. He said he wanted his son or daughter to have a real sense of place and not just know the address of their house.”
“It’s wonderful,” I said. “Can she place the stars on the wall with the ones in the sky?”
“Not yet, but she knows there’s a connection.”
I turned and looked at her. Her hair was tied in a loose bun and she wore a simple skirt and blouse. No jewelry or makeup. She resembled a schoolteacher and mother much more than a wealthy madam. “How do you make this work with that?” I asked and nodded toward the big house through the windows.
“It’s simple really, Z. I don’t know any other way. Nicholas approves and when Star’s old enough, I’ll answer any question she’s got. She’s loved, well taken care of, and later, she’ll be able to go to good schools. I can’t hide it from her. I’ll tell her it’s a part of life, in my case a business, but certainly not all there is to life. What she does with that information will be up to her.”
“You’ve done well, Carolina. I’m happy for you.”
“Come here,” she said. “I want you to see something.”
We walked to the mantel and she lifted up a small, framed photograph and held it for me to see. It was a picture of herself and a young man with a mustache sitting at a café table and smiling for the camera. They were holding hands under the table.
“This is Nicholas,” she said.
“That would be Nick Flowers to the rest of us, correct?”
Her mouth dropped open and she could only say, “How on earth. ”
“I read the paper on the way over. You know me, sports page first.”