“She wanted to run away with her lover. Instead, she ended up shooting her whole family. I don’t understand why she’d do what she did. Why didn’t she run away from High Place? Surely she could have simply left.”
“You can’t leave High Place.”
“But you can. She was an adult woman.”
“You’re a woman. Can you do anything you want? Even if it upsets your family?”
“Technically I can, even if I wouldn’t every single time,” Noemí said, though she immediately remembered her father’s issues with scandals and the fear of the society pages. Would she ever risk an outright rebellion against her family?
“My mother left High Place, she married. But she came back. There’s no escaping it. Ruth knew as much. That’s why she did what she did.”
“You sound almost proud,” she exclaimed.
Francis placed the hat on his head and looked at her gravely. “No. But truth be told Ruth ought to have burnt High Place to the ground.”
It was such a shocking pronouncement that she thought she must have heard him wrong, and she would have been able to convince herself this was the case if they had not driven back to the house in a bubble of silence. That piercing silence more than anything affirmed his words. It underlined them and made her turn her face toward the window. In her hand she held her unlit cigarette, watching the trees, light streaming through the branches.
13
Noemí decided they’d have themselves a mini casino night. She’d always loved casino night. They’d sit in the dining room, and everyone dressed the part, using old clothes picked from their grandparents’ trunks, pretending they were high rollers in Monte Carlo or Havana. All the children played, and even when they were way too old for games of pretend, the Taboada cousins would gather around the table and put the record player to good use, tapping their feet to a snappy tune and carefully laying down their cards. It couldn’t be quite like that at High Place since they had no records to play, but Noemí decided the spirit of their casino nights could be captured if they tried.
She slipped the deck into one large sweater pocket and the little bottle into the other, and then she peeked her head inside Catalina’s room. Her cousin was alone and she was awake. Perfect.
“I have a treat for you,” Noemí said.
Catalina was sitting by the window. She turned and looked at Noemí. “Do you, now?”
“You must choose, the left or right pocket, and then you’ll have a reward,” Noemí said, approaching her.
“What if I choose the wrong one?”
Catalina’s hair fell loose past her shoulders. She had never taken to short hairstyles. Noemí was glad. Catalina’s hair was sleek and lovely, and she had fond memories of brushing it and braiding it when she was a little girl. Catalina had been so patient with her, allowing Noemí to treat her like a living doll.
“Then you’ll never know what was in the other pocket.”
“You silly girl,” Catalina replied, smiling. “I’ll play your game. Right.”
“Ta-da.”
Noemí placed the pack of cards on Catalina’s lap. Her cousin opened the pack and smiled, taking out a card and holding it up.
“We can play a few hands,” Noemí said. “I’ll even let you win the first one.”
“As if! I never met a more competitive child. And it’s not like Florence would let us play late into the night.”
“We might still play at least a little.”
“I have no money to bet, and you don’t play if there’s no money on the table.”
“You’re looking for excuses. Are you afraid of that dreadful, nagging Florence?”
Catalina stood up quickly and went to stand by her vanity, tilting its mirror and setting the pack of cards next to a hairbrush while she looked at her reflection. “No. Not at all,” she said, grabbing the brush and running it through her hair a couple of times.
“Good. Because I have a second present for you, and I wouldn’t give it to a scaredy-cat.”
Noemí held the green bottle up. Catalina turned around, wonder in her eyes, and carefully grabbed the bottle. “You did it.”
“I told you I would.”
