Chapter 16: Mamou Prairie

Jo didn't come around for a couple weeks after that. I assumed she was staying with her group of tightknit friends somewhere, and no one batted an eyelash at her absence. Apparently, it was normal. I wondered why, as a 22-year-old, she didn't just have her own place somewhere. She certainly had enough money to.

Holly and Judd were picking up more on their French, but they were starting to get a little fatigued as they realized they would spend their summer weekday mornings in class. Holly was as attentive as she could be, and while Judd still tried to reject every new word and sentence I taught them, he had his moments where his eyes would go still and his feet would stop bouncing on the floor, his attention finally captured. I was also getting the hang of being a teacher, learning how to keep the kids' attention long enough to push some knowledge into their little brains.

The afternoons were spent either with the kids or alone in my room. My favorite spot to be in the Donnelley Estate was the balcony in my room. It faced West, so I could soak in all the evening sun as I wrote in my journal about the day. I also started working on a new story, finding that being in California brought a new air of inspiration to my mind. Most of the short stories I wrote were simple and bland, but I started writing new ones. I even wrote poems, most of them about the nature in the Golden State.

Eventually, I garnered enough bravery to seek new writing spots outside of my room. There was another patio nestled further into the backyard, a little white bench sat under some shading trees. It was far enough way to have my own space but close enough to hear Holly and Judd splashing in the pool.

Marty had really taken a liking to me. Sometimes he would step into the classroom while I was teaching, standing tall with his hand on his chin, smiling widely at me and the kids. Apparently, they sought out tutors and instructors every summer for the kids. Whether it was swimming, art, musical instruments, sports, or horseback riding, they had started this tradition once Jo was old enough and had continued it every year. Marty loved talking, and I think he loved talking to me because I hardly talked back. Somehow, on a few of his rants, he started talking about business and took me into his office a few times to explain certain investments to me. He even offered to get me started in the oil and gas industry, but I politely declined, admitting honestly to him that I didn't have enough cash to even invest.

He told me the story about how he met Katie. We were in his office one day, and this time he was telling me the story of his life. I sat in the uncomfortably large leather chair in front of his desk as he leaned back and smoked a thick cigar, his eyes bouncing wildly across the ceiling as he spoke.

"I had just started at UC­—University of California. My father came from a long generation of successful businessmen. My grandfather even had a part in discovering the oil in Louisiana, you know. Mamou Prairie—the first oil well in Louisiana. He became a real oil tycoon—even wore a big chunky ring on his thumb and smoked cigars." He looked at his cigar and wiggled it with a lopsided smile. "He passed the investments onto my father who became even more successful. He never even went to college, and I think he might have regretted it when he realized academia is an integral part of socialite culture, so he sent me—his firstborn—straight away to California where the oil industry was really booming. He wanted to expand the Donnelley name across the country, but he told me I had to get a degree first. He was always real focused on my education. Maybe I get my particulars from him—you know, always wanting to teach my children everything I can get for them. Anyway, so I went to California, studied hard, partied hard if I'm honest, and I started weaseling my way into social circles. That's the biggest part, you know. You can have no college education, no familial wealth, nothing in your pocket but a paper clip and toothpick, but if you make friends with the right people, you can build wealth for yourself, all on your own. Well, I already had the first two things so it wasn't entirely necessary, but I wanted to do it anyway."

He stopped to take a drink of his whiskey, taking a long and slow sip. It was the slowest thing I had ever seen Marty do.

"And I ended up making business associations with Mr. Arison, who owned his own investment company. Luckily, he had a daughter, Kate Arison." He closed his eyes for a moment, a thin-lipped smile creeping across his face. "She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I mean, you've seen Katie. She is an angel sent from heaven. I knew the moment I saw her that I had to make her my wife, and since Mr. Arison and I became close business partners, he thought it would be a good idea. So we married, and a year later we ended up at the hospital."

He paused for a moment, opening his eyes again and taking a deep breath. "She was going into labor with Jo, but there were some complications." He waved his hand in the air as if to say he didn't want to go into the details, but I could see a glint in his eyes. "I almost lost both of them—my Katie and my Jo. Jo spent the first few months of her life in the hospital. She was tiny, the tiniest baby you would ever see. I could fit her in the palm of my hand. The doctors said that Katie could never have children again if she wanted to live, and they doubted that Jo would survive past a year. Well, they were wrong. It took ten years, but Katie gave birth to Judd, and then to Holly. And Jo—well she's as strong as a horse. Tall thing, too. And God, is she just as beautiful as her mother, don't you think?"

I had been listening so intently that I didn't realize that he stopped to let me answer.

"Oh, yes," I said, and it was true. Jo was incredibly beautiful—it was the first thing I ever noticed about her. "Jo is very beautiful."

He smiled and nodded in agreement, but as his eyes danced across the ceiling, his smile faded a little. "She gave us hell, she did. The most independent, argumentative, stubborn little girl I've ever seen. You couldn't tell her no. If she wanted to do something, by God she was going to do it. She was always trying to do something crazy—climbing up the walls of the house, riding her bike out into the road, jumping from trees. I almost thought that since she didn't die at birth, she was going to end up killing herself one day. Strangely, she never got hurt. Not a scratch, not a broken bone, ever. I think it's because she handles herself well. She's got a mouth on her, that's for sure. Her and Katie have screamed and fought with each other Jo's whole life. Katie thinks it's a sign of arrogance, but I think Jo is just smart. She's smart and strong, more so than any man I know. I could put her in a room with all my businessmen, and she'd tear them all down with a few sentences. That's why I don't really worry about where she's at or what she's doing. Jo will always be fine—just fine. I trust that. Judd is, too. He's the same way, but he's a little too arrogant. Holly is the little girl I'll need to worry about. Such a sweet thing. Spoiled, but sweet."

He took another sip of his whiskey, a thoughtful one, before his eyes finally returned to me for the first time since he started talking. "I don't mean to bore you, Becca."

"No, no, I'm not bored." It was true. I wanted to know even more about Jo, although the things he said were things I had already assumed about her just from spending time with her.

He smiled and nodded his head. "You're a good girl, Becca. I'm really glad you're here with us for the summer. I don't even mind that you're quiet. People like me, who talk and talk and talk—it's because we don't want to be alone with ourselves. Quiet people like you—they are comfortable with themselves. It's a sign of wisdom."

I blushed a little at the compliment and the way Marty was smiling at me with kindness and genuineness. An air of pride filled my lungs, and I wondered if that was what it was like to have a father. To sit in his office as he told stories of his life, only for him to turn and compliment you for just sitting there and listening. I felt safe with Marty. I realized that although he was clumsy and chattery, he was observant. He saw me for who I was, and he approved. It was the best feeling.

It was late, so Marty told me that I better get out before he starts going on even more. I thanked him for the conversation and left, rewinding all the things he told me, especially the stuff about Jo. I could imagine her as a child, with blonde hair a little darker than Holly's, climbing up trees and giggling in her church bell laughter, defying her parents and running the household as if she owned it. I didn't know Jo very well yet, but it sounded just like her. She hadn't changed much since she was a child.

As I walked up to my room, feeling both intrigued and fatigued from the long conversation with Marty, I heard voices from down the hallway. Slowing down as I neared my room's door, I looked down the hall at Jo's door, where the voices were coming from.

I paused, only because the voices now sounded like they were yelling. I could make out Jo's voice.

"I am a twenty-two-year-old woman, Mom! You can't just come in here and berate me like I'm a fucking child!"

"Watch your mouth!" yelled the other voice which I could tell was Katie's. Her voice was screeching and cold like a hawk. "You think that you can do whatever you want, disappear whenever you want, and act like a spoiled rotten brat just because you're old enough to! I think you've forgotten that you are my child—CHILD—and everything you have is because of me and your father! You want to run off and do your own thing and be a degenerate for the rest of your life?! Go ahead, but you will be living on the streets because I will not give a single cent to an egotistical idiot like yourself. You could have done anything with your life, Joanna. You could have gone to college and made a name for yourself, got married to a nice man, raised a family. No, you want to spend your life drugging and dancing and being a backwards hippie."

"Leave me alone!" Jo screamed, and there was a crash in the room, the sound of something being thrown. My eyes widened, worried if something was about to happen, if I should go and try to deescalate the situation.

But it wasn't any of my business. And I knew that the second that Katie stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut, her eyes shooting at me as I stood in the hallway, obviously listening. Her green eyes widened, lips pursing in rage.

She approached me suddenly. The dark green robe she wore fluttered in the wind like a bird stretching its wings to swoop down and scoop up its prey. I backed flat against my room door.

Katie stopped only two inches from me and peered down at me from over her bird nose. "Unless you're trying to translate my daughter and I's conversation into French for your own practice, I suggest you stop invading the privacy of my family if you want to stay here, little girl." Her words felt cold on my face as she eyed me sharply. I just stared up at her, mouth ajar, eyes wide, trying to get myself to apologize, but I felt like I was stoned under Medusa's stare.

With a flap of her robe, she floated away from me and down the stairs. I was still pressed against my door, but when I heard noise from Jo's room, I peeled myself off the door and disappeared into my room, closing the door shut and leaning against it to catch my breath. I could hear Jo storming down the hallway, and everything in me feared that Jo also knew that I had been listening and was coming to give me a yelling that would hurt even more than Katie's.

She came closer and closer, and once I could hear her footsteps right by the door, they stopped. I held my breath as my heart pounded in my chest. Slowly, I looked down and saw the shadows of her feet interrupting the light that flooded through the crack under the door.

I restrained a gasp when I felt the doorknob, which was still in my hand, turn. I jumped away from the door, watching it slowly turn a full circle. I prepared myself for her to storm in and tear me apart with venomous words or maybe even her own hands, but the doorknob slowly turned back. The shadows of her feet stayed there for a moment longer before they moved away, and I heard her going down the stairs.

Why had she nearly opened my door? Did she hear Katie yell at me and was coming to yell at me, too? Or was she hoping to see if I was in here so she could have someone to talk to for comfort? Either way, she had decided against whatever it was that went through her mind when she stopped at my door. But for the rest of the night, as I shakily got ready for bed, I couldn't stop wondering why.