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Although it was still quite bright, the sky had become overcast and snow was falling. I watched Troy work diligently on the snowman's fingers, and I listened to him chatter away about the toys Tony had promised him for Christmas. He skipped from one topic to another, at one point telling me a story Ryse Williams told him about a little boy in New Orleans who had a magical flute. He kept calling Ryse "Rye," and when I asked him about that, he said he had heard the other servants call him that.
"They said his name was Rye Whiskey, not Ryse Williams."
"Rye Whiskey? You don't call him that, do you?"
"Uh-huh," he said, and then he looked toward the front door and added, "when Tony's not there. He doesn't like me to.,'
"Oh, I see. Well, maybe you shouldn't do it then."
He shrugged. Then his eyes brightened with a new idea. He dropped his silver spoon and stepped back.
"We gotta go get some pieces of hedge to make the snowman's clothes. We gotta, Leigh."
"Pieces of hedge?"
"Uh-huh. Boris trims the maze all the time and there's pieces of hedge there. We gotta get some, okay? Please. Okay?"
I sighed. It was cold just standing around and the snowflakes were falling faster and getting bigger every moment. A walk would do us both good, I thought.
"Okay."
He grabbed my mittened hand into his and started us away from the house.
"I'll show you. Don't be afraid. show you."
"All right, all right. Slow down, Troy. Your snowman won't melt. That's for sure."
I looked back at the house because I overheard two women from Tony's offices in Boston who were serving as bridesmaids talking about Momma as they walked to their car.
"She was married to a man old enough to be her grandfather," one said. "I heard he's practically senile and doesn't even realize she's left him."
"The only reason a woman like that would marry a man that old is for his money."
"She won't need to worry about money anymore," the first woman said. "And now she has a devastatingly handsome young man as well. That's one shrewd woman." They both laughed and got into their car.
Despite the cold air and the falling snow, my face felt hot with rage. I wanted to run over to their car and pound on the windows. They were making fun of my father. How dare they? Who told them such a story? They didn't deserve to be in the wedding party. Jealous, envious, vicious gossips . . .
"Come on, Leigh," Troy said pulling me forward.
"What? Oh, yes." I followed him, looking back once to see their car drive off.
We stopped at the entrance to the maze.
"I don't see any hedge trimmings, Troy. Let's go back." "No, there's always some. We'll go in a little and look, okay?" he pleaded.
"Your brother doesn't want us to, Troy." "It's okay. I know how to go in and out."
"Is that right?" Sometimes, he looked so mature for a little boy, so self-assured.
"Tony won't be mad. Tony's going to be your daddy now."
"No, he's not," I snapped. Little Troy looked up confused. "He's marrying my mother, but that doesn't make him my daddy. I have a daddy."
"Where is he?" Troy asked, lifting his little shoulders. "He works with big ships and he's out on the ocean." "Is he coming here, too?"
"No. My mother doesn't want to live with him anymore. She wants to live with your brother, so we're living here and my father lives someplace else. That's called a divorce. People who are married stop being married. Understand?"
He shook his head.
