The skies over the Ontario Provincial Police's Ottawa detachment cast a gray, misty pall over the building and the rest of Canada's capital this morning. Now that the year had already turned to 2000, it had been rather normal for southern Ontario.
The only millennium bugs Dr. Maria del Carmen Escalante Rojas thought she had to worry about were the flu cases jamming her emergency department. There were a lot of them, and she lost count of the prescriptions for Relenza she had written in the last week. One after another, she had signed off on instructions for the new inhaler medication on the market.
If she just didn't have the chills herself. Maria was used to the hurry-up-and-wait pace at the hospital, but the time she was spending at the police station made fifteen minutes seem like fifteen days. She paced the floor, almost wearing a small trench with her steps, and rubbed her arms to try to bring herself some needed warmth. Though the temperature was below freezing outside, it may as well have been inside.
Don't Jarrett and Gauthier have any consideration for humanity?
As she reached for the pack of tissues in her purse, her cell phone chirped Beethoven's Ninth, and she went to retrieve it. Elise Jarrett grabbed her arm and stopped her.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm afraid we'll have to take that."
"Why?" Maria asked, as if she were being charged with possession of a deadly weapon. Possession of a cell phone?
"It's standard procedure, ma'am. Security reasons."
"Uhhh...excuse me?"
Gauthier rumbled. "We can't allow anyone under questioning to have anything which may pose a danger to anyone."
Maria grabbed the phone and shoved it in Gauthier's face. "This...device...poses no danger. In fact, I do just the opposite with it. I'm hoping to prevent danger. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a call to answer."
Gauthier continued unfazed. "Ma'am, we have to take your phone until we are finished with the questioning."
Maria exhaled slowly, then coughed. What part of 'no' don't these two understand? "For one thing, you're not getting it. For another, I'm not 'ma'am'. I'm 'doctor'. For a third, imagine yourself in a situation where your life is threatened and you'll need someone like me to save you. Comprenez-vous?"
Jarrett crooked her index and middle fingers, motioning to Maria.
"Hand it over, " Jarrett told her, palm extended. Maria slammed the phone into Jarrett's palm and grumbled.
Stupid cops.
"Don't I get to make my one phone call?"
Jarrett pointed to the phone on the desk. "Who do you plan to call?"
*****
With the exception of the studio fire, Suzanne and Blaine's return from Toronto was a triumphant one. Though it had been more than a month ago, their euphoria was still evident, though tempered with their feelings toward their older sister.
The book had been sitting in the trunk of Blaine's car all this time, not necessarily because they were hiding it from Louisa. After all, they just could have misplaced the tome.
Blaine's care in talking to Suzanne made itself evident.
“How are we going to get the cookbook back into the library without Louisa finding out?"
Suzanne gave Blaine a condescending look. “Don’t worry about Louisa. She has so many books in that library that I hardly think she’ll miss this one. Besides, she probably tucked it behind something else and forgot about it.”
She closed her eyes and turned her back to Blaine, who was still unconvinced.
“Suzanne, I don’t think Louisa will be happy with us…” She suddenly turned around and shot her brother a look of disdain.
“Would you relax already? If Louisa had her way, she'd enshrine the thing behind a glass display case. All we did was borrow it, not steal it. And now we're returning it, just like in a public library. See, no one got hurt.”
She noticed the hurt look on Blaine’s face and sympathized. Taking Blaine’s hand in her own, she offered a few words of sisterly comfort.
"Hey, I’m sorry. Even if Louisa does find out the book is missing, she’ll be mad about it for a few days and everything will blow over. It's much ado about nothing."
“What if Louisa hides the cookbook and we can't find it?”
Suzanne sat up and pondered that thought for a while before her face lit up with a mischievous grin. “If that’s the case, we’ll have to tear this place down brick by brick until we find it.”
As they dissolved in laughter, Louisa continued her search for the missing book.
“Those two fools. They have no idea what they're doing . Suzanne did it. I know she did.”
Louisa’s quiet verbal rampage was suddenly interrupted. Suzanne, always the more theatrical one, walked over to Louisa and throws her arms around her.
“Was that a great show, or what? We almost burned down the house. MuchMusic would have nothing on us. We really rocked! Hollywood'll be calling for sure. Or maybe Cannes. Riviera, here we come!”
Blaine just stood there, blasé about the whole thing. Louisa focused on him, seemingly magnifying his discomfort. Suzanne stared, wondering what would happen next. Louisa put her arm around him.
“Blaine, you haven’t said hello yet. How about a hug? Come on. I want to congratulate my baby brother.”
Blaine walked over to Louisa and embraced her rather stiffly. Usually, he was more affectionate than this, but his rigidity set off alarms with Louisa. What was going on here? The three walked over to the library.
Suzanne saw the shelves in disarray. “What happened here, Louisa? You used to be so careful about keeping the study clean.” Suzanne walked over to a stack of books and picked one up at random. Louisa felt a flush over her face, and did her best to try to hide it. Walking over to Suzanne, she started to yank the book out of Suzanne's hand.
“You know, I really wanted to read that new book by Nora Roberts, but I can’t find it now. You know how I am about MY BOOKS.” Louisa said, staring at Suzanne dead on. Suzanne, never one to flinch in a showdown, met Louisa’s cold stare with a grin. Suzanne grabbed the book from Louisa’s hand and tried to stall her.
“Louisa, you have such a nice collection of books but there really is no order. I mean, Nora Roberts next to John Grisham next to Julia Child? You should consider getting someone in here to organize the library. Then perhaps you can open it up to the guests. It could be another good selling point.”
Suzanne looked at Louisa, who would dearly have loved nothing more now than to drop the charade and confront Blaine and Suzanne about the missing cookbook.
“Instead of having some stranger come in why don’t you organize the library, Suzanne? After all, I did hire you on as a housekeeper.”
"Precisely," Suzanne smiled. "I'm a housekeeper, not a librarian."
What an insult! I may be a lowly housekeeper, but one day I'm going to be a star, and Louisa will sit in this great big house, all by her little lonesome.
. “You seem to know your way around this library and its contents so well. I hope you didn’t take offence at my suggestion."
"No. None at all," Suzanne replied.
The best defence is a good offence.
“Well it has been a long day. I am tired and I have rooms to clean and breakfast to help fix tomorrow. Blaine wants me to help him cut vegetables." She turned to her brother, smiling gently. "Isn't that right, Blaine? I will give your idea some thought, though, Louisa. 'night!”
Suzanne gathered her belongings and started out of the library. Louisa stopped her, just short of a full confrontation.
“You know, Suzanne, I find that after a long day, I can’t get to sleep right away. I find that a good book helps me relax.”
Suzanne smiled at her. “No, thanks. I've had enough reading today just with the newspaper. I think I'll just go to sleep See you in the morning.”
Blaine felt the urge to bolt, but the weight of his feet underneath him were about to make him buckle. He couldn't seem to move at all.
Having wished her sister good night, Louisa was about to do the same with her brother. “How about you, Blaine? Read any good books lately?”
Blaine suddenly felt his legs becoming as strong as Donovan Bailey's. He certainly still felt like he wanted to sprint out of there. He could, though, pull off a good bluff.
"No, but I hear Julia Child has a new one out that's supposed to be really good. How does she do it? The woman's almost 90 years old and she amazes me!"
"Good night, Blaine."
He did sprint upstairs to the family's private area and let out a breath. His heart still pounded, and all he wanted to do was to slow it down a little. Suzanne caught him at the head of the stairs.
“Did you see that little performance Louisa put on for us? She knows about the cookbook, but I don’t care. I’m not ready to give it up yet. She's making a big fuss over nothing."
Suzanne shrugged. Blaine just shook his head as each of them went to their rooms to go to sleep.
*****
Thérèse studied the figures she had typed into the computer. She tried to crunch the numbers once again, but each time she arrived at the same answer. This trip to Louisiana was impossible for the entire family but she was able to go on her own. Stephane wasn't pleased in the least with his wife's sudden burst of assertiveness.
“Thérèse, dear, this is really not the best time for you to leave and travel all the way to Louisiana. What about Noelle? It isn’t the best time for any of us.” Stephane glanced at Thérèse, making his displeasure evident.
“Remember when Ryan and Dr. Escalante talked to us at the hospital? They both agreed that we all get back to a normal routine. I've also talked to Noelle, and she'll be seeing a therapist there. Ryan worked with Dr. Moreau on his last rotation, and she comes highly recommended. Noelle will be in the best of care,"
Thérèse responded, annoyed at Stephane’s protests. As much as he wanted to avoid an argument, one would ensue anyway.
“I haven’t seen my family for quite some time. I remember when we all would get together for family events. And then one day, oncle Michel passed away and something drastically changed. “
Thérèse expressed herself in a quiet, but forceful tone. She did everything she could to keep from crying, but the emotions straining beneath the surface started to simmer, much like the pot au feu which was one of the specialties at La Cuisine.
Stephane, too, simmered, but in a much different way. Though quiet, like his wife, that was where the similarities ended. It had been seven months since the brutal assault on their daughter, but his impressions on Thérèse's seeming lack of involvement with Noelle were altogether wrong.
Noelle and Thérèse had many arguments over the years because of Noelle’s choices. Thérèse didn’t want Noelle to be a doctor, instead wanting her to continue with the family business. Noelle's rapport with children first manifested itself all those summers ago when she was first asked to teach "Cooking for Kids" at La Cuisine. Because of that, Noelle thought a lot about the kids who couldn't come to the classes...those who were sick, and those whose parents could afford only the most meager of living arrangements.
Because of that interest, and her independent drive, Noelle chose to attend medical school and aspired to become a pediatrician. Patrick mentioned that Ryan was attending the University of Ottawa, and she quickly followed, never straying from the path she set for herself.
Stephane never wanted to get in the middle of his daughter and wife. Like most fathers, he doted on Noelle, referring to her as "petite princesse" when she was younger . He wanted nothing more than to love her and have her love him. He never saw any of her faults.
When the letter came from her cousin, it gave Thérèse an outlet for her feelings. She was always fighting her feelings of wanting to be accepted. She always felt that she had done something to cause her aunt to and mother to break all ties.
“Noelle has always been a strong person. She is fighting like never before to regain her independence . She doesn’t need me.” Thérèse was surprised at her rather cold assessment of her daughter.
“Noelle is not as strong as everyone thinks she is," Stephane replied. "She is simply putting up a brave front so that no one worries about her. How can you be so cavalier about this?”
The Armands stared at each other. Thérèse really needed a tissue, but she couldn't let on that she was about to cry. Instead, she exhaled, put her hands on her hips, and rose slowly.
“How dare you accuse me of being cavalier about what happened to our daughter! I 've tried to comfort her, but she pushes me away. I certainly can’t push her. If I did that, all she'd do is turn around and run. That's the last thing I want, and I'm sure it's the last thing you want."
Thérèse burst into tears and Stephane put his arms around Thérèse to comfort her. They both cried. How could something so beautiful turn so cruel?
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