The Dream Wedding

by MJ Rodgers

  “When did you come back here, Lou-May?” Briana asked.

  “Two years ago, Carlie tracked me down. It were just after you come back from your year in Paris with her and Rory. You’ve no idea how happy I were to see you all growed up into such a beauty. Amazing thing, you turning out so sweet and all, seeing as how you had such a tyrant for a daddy. I’ve done for half a dozen families over the years. Those autocratic types most often produce either rebellious hellions or sneaky little brats.”

  “Does the name Briana Berry sound familiar to you, Lou-May?” Briana asked.

  “No, can’t say that it does.”

  “You never heard that I called myself by that name when I was little?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about the name Hazel Doud?”

  Lou-May shook her head, looking perplexed.

  “Did Carlie ever mention to you that she had come to see me here when I was ten?”

  “Come to see you? Here? Where did you git such a notion, child?”

  “She didn’t come to see me when I was ten?” Briana asked again.

  “Couldn’t. Man like Markam Newcastle don’t forgive no woman what betrayed him. He had the court proclaim her an unfit mama. She weren’t allowed nowhere near you.”

  “So when did Natalie and Carlie renew their acquaintance?” Michael asked.

  “After Markam died, four years ago. Carlie come to see Natalie. She were determined to git her daughter back, seeing as how Markam weren’t in no way of preventing it no more. Natalie put Carlie up in the servants’ quarters. Employed her as a personal secretary to run her errands.”

  “I did that to my mother?” Briana said, appalled.

  “Now, child, don’t you be frettin’ about it none. It were just your hurt striking out. Your daddy told you she’d deserted you as a baby. You didn’t know he’d separated you. You made it up to your mama later, when you learned the truth. Y’all took off to Europe with Rory, getting reacquainted, like, traveling and buying them beautiful things. You’d give them anything, child. I’ve never seen a sweeter daughter or sister.”

  “But to have initially treated my mother like a servant,” Briana said. “It still seems so cruel and vengeful.”

  “Your mama don’t think so. I never would have even knowed if’n one of the old servants hadn’t jabbered on about it afore she left. Carlie’s never said one blessed word.”

  “Are you certain that Carlie never saw me even once while I was growing up?” Briana asked. “You were in Mobile. Could it be it happened and you didn’t know?”

  “I suppose anything’s possible,” Lou-May said as she popped a piece of pie into her mouth. “But it just don’t seem likely. I were certain Markam’d never let her in his house again. Leastwise, not while he were alive. I’m not happy he’s dead, mind you, but I am happy to be back here with you and your mama. The Newcastle estate has always been a beautiful place to be.”

  “Would you mind taking us on a tour?” Michael asked.

  “It’d be my pleasure,” Lou-May said, shoving another wedge of pie into her mouth and quickly swallowing it with a sip of coffee.

  She rose to her feet and led the way.

  Briana found it to be a lovely old home, the floors polished wood, the attention to detail on the wall panels and the banister to the upstairs quite intricate. The art was muted rural landscape scenes, the furniture reflected various periods of French styles. Briana saw representations of Louis XIV through Louis XVI, and even some French provincial.

  She liked the bedroom that was supposed to be hers best of all. The walls were a sunny yellow, the bed and dresser cherrywood, in one of the simpler Louis styles.

  Briana stepped through the open doors to the upstairs gallery and leaned over the railing to watch the river roll by.

  The sun waltzed in the trees while the breeze strummed the water As Briana drew the silky air into her lungs, she had a very strong sense of déjþ vu.

  “This were always your favorite place to be,” Lou-May said suddenly from beside her. “Could always find you here, or out lapping the pool.”

  “This is familiar.”

  Briana suddenly felt Michael beside her.

  “How familiar?” his deep voice asked.

  “I’ve stood here before, Michael.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Were you with someone?”

  “I…I don’t think so.”

  “Come inside,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

  Briana stepped back into the bedroom and followed Michael to the dresser. Two pictures in silver frames sat on its top.

  One was a candid shot of a smiling, very young-looking Carlie, holding an auburn-haired baby girl of about one in her arms. In the background was the Newcastle house. The second picture was more recent, of Carlie and Natalie, a head-and-shoulders shot. They were wearing identical light blue blouses. The similarity between the two women was remarkable.

  “You certainly have growed up to be the spittin’ image of your mama,” Lou-May said from behind them.

  Briana stared at the picture, uncomfortably aware of a growing recognition.

  When she had gazed in the mirror that morning, she could have sworn she’d been wearing precisely that same expression.

  “When was this taken?” she asked.

  “Last year. Your mama insisted. Never did git no pictures of you together while you’d be growin’. Studio photographer took some of you just by yourself, as well. There be extras in the drawer there.”

  Briana opened it and pulled out several prints. In every shot she recognized an expression, or something else, that seemed familiar.

  Her head began to well up with frustration. Where were these familiar feelings coming from? Why couldn’t she grasp them and hold on to them long enough to figure them out?

  “Are there any pictures of Markam Newcastle?” Michael asked the housekeeper.

  “None,” Lou-May said.

  “That seems odd,” Briana said.

  “Your mama didn’t like keeping them around,” Lou-May said.

  “Are you saying there isn’t even one likeness of Markam Newcastle in this house that used to be his home?” Michael asked.

  “We’d throwed them all away, Rory and me. Your mama’s orders. She can never be forgettin’ that he kept her babe from her. She made sure no picture of that man be anywhere.”

  “But if he is my father, wasn’t it up to me to say if the pictures were to be destroyed?” Briana asked.

  “Once your mama gits an idea stuck in her head, it is nigh impossible to git it out. Well, you know’d her, child.”

  Actually, Bnana didn’t know her. Did she?

  “Burnin’ Markam’s pictures were the first thing she wanted doin’ when she come back from Europe with you,” Lou-May continued. “Well, second thing.”

  “What was the first thing?” Michael asked.

  “Gittin’ me in to replace them other servants.”

  “You replaced the servants that Markam Newcastle employed while he was alive?” Michael asked.

  “That be them “

  “You’re taking care of this entire estate by yourself?” Briana asked.

  “Oh, my, no, child. I just sees to the housecleaners and gardeners. Make sure they come do what they supposed to. You and your mama always treat me more like one of the family than some servant”

  “Who cooks for the family?” Michael asked.

  “That’d be Elgin. He’s off on his holiday now, seeing as how it’d be only me to make groceries for. He’d be back in a few days, for when your mama and Rory be returnin’. But if you’d be back to stay for a spell, child, I could git him to—”

  “No, please, Lou-May,” Briana said quickly. “I don’t want to upset any plans. And I don’t believe Dr. Sands and I will be staying.”

  Briana looked over at Michael for confirmation, and he nodded.

  “Lou-May,” he said, “I wonder if you could give me th
e name and number of any of the housekeepers who were here in Markam Newcastle’s time.”

  “There be just one, Vita Pitts. Don’t know her number. I hear tell her sister has a place at New Roads so I expect you can find her there. She did for Markam Newcastle going on forty years.”

  “Did she retire after his death?”

  “No. When Carlie and Natalie come back from their European traveling, Carlie turned Vita out, just as she did the rest of Markam’s servants.”

  “Why would she fire the servants?” Briana asked.

  “Because she knew it were one of them who told Markam about her and Connor. She blamed them all for losing you, just as she blamed Markam. I’m the only one else living here now, except, of course, for your brother, Rory, and Elgin. Carlie brought Elgin in from her restaurant in New Orleans.”

  “I understand that Carlie started that restaurant a couple of years ago,” Michael said.

  “Natalie gave her the money. Carlie tried makin’ that restaurant a go before. Only Rory had that accident, and she had to borrow against the business to cover his medical bills. She ended up losing the restaurant and owing a pile of money.”

  Lou-May turned to Briana. “You’d always said you’d wished you’d knowed, so you could’ve been there for your mama and Rory.”

  “What was wrong with Rory?” Briana asked.

  “Broke both his legs in a motorcycle accident He be a little wild, but a good boy. Carlie be fortunate in her children. Many’s a time you’ve gone to that restaurant of your mama’s this last year, even learnin’ to cook when it needed doin’. You’ve a lovin’ heart, child.”

  Briana smiled weakly at Lou-May, not knowing how to accept a compliment for something she didn’t remember doing, a compliment she was certain she didn’t deserve.

  “Do you have the names of any of the other servants that Markam Newcastle kept?” Michael asked.

  “Naw. Wouldn’t help you none, even if I did. They’d be scattered to the winds by now.”

  “How did you remember Vita Pitts so well?”

  “The way you remember a real bad sore tooth you got once. That woman never took to me nor Carlie. Give us the evil eye since the day we come to the estate. It wouldn’t surprise me none if she weren’t the one who told Markam about Carlie and Connor, neither.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I think the fool be in love with ol’ Markam. I knowed she be taken’ a portrait of him when she left. One minute it were sticking out the Dumpster where Rory chucked it. Next minute it were sticking out the trunk of her sister’s car as they drove off.”

  “WILL I SEE Natalie Newcastle?” Vita Pitts’s voice screeched through the phone in Michael’s ear. “Next cold day in hell!”

  Michael spoke quickly, before the woman could hang up on him—something he sensed was imminent.

  “Ms. Pitts, I’m a doctor. It’s imperative that I speak with you about Ms. Newcastle’s upbringing. I believe it has an important bearing on her current mental state. It is most urgent. Please. Will you see me?”

  “And what kind of doctor might you be?”

  “I’m a psychiatrist.”

  Unexpected laughter exploded into Michael’s ear. “’Bout time. That one be crazy, all right!”

  “Why do you say that, Ms. Pitts?” Michael asked.

  “You want to come on by, maybe I tell you. But I ain’t talking to that woman no more. Don’t have to, now I ain’t gittin’ paid to.”

  Michael jotted down Vita Pitts’s address, and a few directions, and then hung up the phone. He returned to the coffee shop where Briana was waiting for him.

  “Vita Pitts will see me, but not Natalie Newcastle,” he said as he slipped into the seat across from Briana.

  “I’m not surprised,” Briana said. “She’s probably still upset about being fired from a job that she held for forty years.”

  Michael hadn’t sensed that that was the only problem from his brief conversation with the woman over the phone, but he didn’t say so. He wanted to get the full story from Vita Pitts before making any comments to Briana.

  Michael had come away from their visit to the Newcastle estate with as many questions as when they arrived.

  “It’s going to take me at least an hour to get out to Ms. Pitts’s place, and another hour back, Briana. Plus however long the conversation will be. I suggest we get rooms at a hotel, so you can relax there while I’m gone. I have a pocket recorder with me. I’ll tape my conversation with the woman and play it back for you when I return.”

  “You think it’s really worth going to all this trouble to talk to the housekeeper?” Briana asked.

  “Yes,” Michael said. “She was there when Natalie was growing up. She’ll know how Natalie was treated. I’d also like another viewpoint on the role Markam and Carlie played in their daughter’s life.”

  “You’re not certain we have an accurate one yet?”

  “Are you?”

  “No,” Briana said. “Carlie says she came to see me when I was ten. Lou-May seems positive that Markam would have never let her back in his house. And after hearing about his reaction to her infidelity, I have a tendency to agree. And yet Carlie had to have seen me. How else would she have known about Briana Berry and Hazel Doud?”

  “That’s an interesting question. Maybe this old house-keeper can help to answer it.”

  “I certainly hope so, Michael. It seems like every time we talk to someone, it just adds to the confusion. There has to be an answer for all this somewhere. There has to be.”

  Chapter Nine

  Vita Pitts lived in a simple side-gabled hall-and-parlor folk house, two rooms wide and one room deep. She was close to sixty, and on the thin side. She greeted Michael at the door, her apron splashed with tomato sauce and her well-lined face creased with curiosity.

  “So, you’d be nasty Natalie’s shrink,” she said as she stepped back for him to enter. “I always told ‘em that she’d be needin’ one.”

  “Whom did you tell?” Michael asked as he followed the woman into a tiny kitchen with a big pot on the stove.

  Vita picked up a big ladle and motioned Michael onto one of the hard wooden kitchen chairs.

  “Anybody who’d listen.”

  “Markam Newcastle?” Michael asked.

  “Oh, Lordy, no. A body’d have to be touched in the head to be telling him anything derogatory about his precious daughter.”

  “Markam Newcastle was close to Natalie?”

  “Treated her like the exalted princess of his kingdom. Were bad enough dealing with him and all his airs. Then he went ahead and made that daughter of his right into his own image.”

  Michael was getting confused. Not only did this woman show no tender feelings for Markam Newcastle, as Lou-May had implied she would, she was also giving him an entirely different view of Markam Newcastle’s relationship with his daughter.

  “Ms. Pitts, I wonder if you could start at the beginning,” Michael said.

  “And where might that be?” Vita asked as she stirred her pot of what Michael imagined must be something pretty wonderful, if the smells filling the kitchen were any indication.

  “When Markam brought his bride home,” he answered.

  Vita laughed. “Fool. Fifty years old and he goes out and buys himself an eighteen-year-old beauty queen for a wife. Then he expects her to be faithful to him!”

  “Had Newcastle ever been married before?”

  “Nope. Too busy making money and foolin’ around.”

  “What did you think of Carlie?”

  “She were a silly, brainless twit. Marries for money, and then acts all surprised-like when it don’t turn out to be no romantic fairy tale. Two of ‘em ended up gittin’ what they gave.”

  “I understand Markam was disappointed he didn’t have a son.”

  “It were true he didn’t cotton to the idea of a daughter at first. Sorta ignored Natalie when she were a babe. But then, so did her mama. She were too busy off in the barn, rolling in
the hay with that horse trainer.”

  “Who took care of Natalie?”

  “That maid Carlie brought with her, Lou-May her name. Lou-May were always trying to cover for Carlie, pretending she were out walking or in a bath. Truth be, she were with that Connor Taureau.”

  “How did Markam find out about them?”

  “He come home from business early one day to see Carlie tripping out of the barn wearing hay in her hair, her cheeks all flushed, the top of her blouse all undone. No puzzle as to a what she’d been a-doing. He were hopping mad.”

  Vita shook her head in remembrance. “Lou-May heard him cussing about killing ‘em. She rushed out of the house, yelling for Connor to git and pulling Carlie inside and up the stairs to her room.”

  “What were you doing, Ms. Pitts?”

  “What ya think? I were staying out of the way. I knowed better than to git in the way of no irate husband with no shotgun.”

  “So what happened?” Michael asked.

  “Connor got scarce and Carlie got kicked out on her ear, is what happened. Markam saw to it she be declared an unfit mother when he took her to court on the divorce.”

  “Did you think that fair?”

  “Weren’t my place to be judgin’. Still, I knowed it must of been hard on Carlie losin’ her babe.”

  “Who raised Natalie?”

  “Bunch of nannies.”

  “What were their names?”

  “Lordy, I couldn’t tell you. They come-and-goed pretty quick.”

  “Why was that?”

  “’Cause Markam Newcastle picked young, pretty girls to take care of his daughter. And then the ol’ coot tried to talk them into taking care of himself, as well.”

  “He was having affairs with these women?”

  “Ones who’d let him. If’n they didn’t cooperate, he’d get rid of them, real quick-like. If’n they’d let him, he’d keep them on till he got tired of them or they started talkin’ marriage.”

  “Was there any reason why he didn’t get married again?”