By the time she came downstairs the next morning, Judy was hoping her encounter with Leon last night night been a dream. The bit of folded paper was in her robe pocket, still smelling faintly of old wood and insulation, so plainly she had, been up in the attic. The memory of Leon standing in the darkness by the pool, dressed in suit and tie, made even less sense to her now. Maybe she’d been sleepwalking and woke up downstairs in the back yard.

Mother was up and had already brought the box down and set it on the kitchen table.

She was holding the blue notebook, and for a horrible moment Judy thought she was about to be confronted by the page she’d torn out.

“I found what your father was worried about,” Mother said, indicating the notebook before setting it back in the box.

“He says there’s nothing in this box he cares about saving. We should just toss the whole thing into the fire.”

“Did he look at it?”

“No. He’s not feeling well this morning. I gave him a tonic. He’s gone back to sleep.”

Then she added, very quietly, “Judith, after we go shopping today, we are going to stop at Mayor Abbot’s office.”

Leon will be there. We’re going to try to work something out.” She looked down at the box. “I would prefer you not mention this to your father. Or to Elisha. He might say something to…”

“I won’t,” said Judy a little too quickly.

There really wasn’t that much in the box. Just a few minutes of standing over the barrel in the back yard, and they were done. Elisha watched from a distance. He was afraid of any open flame. Even lit fireplaces bothered him.

It was amazing to Judith how quickly it all vanished.

Not all of it, of course.

Judy had seen the house where Mayor Abbot worked. Kristal Abbot had a suite in Town Hall, of course, but she preferred to use what had once been her husband’s real estate office, a little cottage on the outskirts.

“That way,” Dad had commented drily years ago, “fewer people are likely to drop in unexpectedly and, God forbid, talk to her about things.”

As they moved up the walk towards Judith’s heart began pounding so suddenly she wondered if she were ill.

This was happening. This was truly happening. How many times had she driven past this house and noted it, and never imagined in her wildest dreams she would be approaching the door…

Could Mother tell what Judith was carrying in her purse?

Would she understand? Surely she would understand. It was Mother who had said Judy should aim high, become a doctor.

They’d seen Leon’s car parked on the street nearby. He was already inside, and he kissed each of them on the cheek, then settled on a couch, watching them, his face grave.

Mayor Abbot smiled brightly from behind her desk. “Well,” she said. “We’re all here at last. Let’s have a talk.” She gestured towards two chairs.

Judith had met Mayor Abbot a few times, but they’d never actually spoken. Now she looked more carefully at her, trying to read what could be going on behind those Roselyn eyes. She saw a woman who, in her youth, had probably not been as pretty as her older sister, but who had grown handsome with age, strangely attractive. And confident. She reminded Judy of a cat resting with its front legs tucked neatly under, snug beneath the conviction that all would go as she wished it to go. Through the window behind her, Judith could see an elaborately landscaped garden with a fountain and statue. Neptune seemed to be glaring at Judith over Mayor Abbot’s shoulder.

“Would anyone like something to drink?” asked Mayor Abbot, “or a snack? I have some lovely anise cookies my son brought me from Italy…”

“No thank you,” Mother said. “We just came from lunch.”

“Leon tells me you girls went shopping today,” Said Mayor Abbot. “For clothes, I assume. What fun! I think, though, you’re going to have to wait until you get onto the mainland before buying what you really need.”

“Not much long underwear, boots and heavy coats in our island shops. I have the names of a few boutiques you can visit there. A pink snowsuit will suit you beautifully, Judy, once you learn to ski.”

Judith was ashamed to feel her heart lift. Mayor Abbot was talking as if her moving to Boston was a certainty. Maybe everything was okay, after all. “I don’t know if I’ll have time for ski trips,”she heard herself say.

“Of course not. Study, study, study! That’s what it will be all about, at least at first. Now…”

She smacked her hands togethers and rubbed them with the air of someone buckling down to work. “Our girl here is going off to Harvard. Let’s have a talk about how we’re going to get her there.”

“At the moment,” Mother said, “It looks as though some of Judith’s costs are going to be covered by my Cousin Lee. You know, Lee Tesange?”

Madame Mayor nodded. “That’s very generous, but really, should that be necessary?”

“Taking money from a relative can be asking for trouble, you know. Wouldn’t the Kilkenny Prize make matters simpler?”

“We have been told the Kilkenny Prize is not an option,” Mother said quietly.

“No, not at present. It can be, though.” Mayor Abbot shook her head, and suddenly her face was the picture of dignified dismay.

“Isn’t it a mess?” she sighed. “I curse the day those off-islanders came here and interfered. But what can we do? As unfair as it is, they’re calling the shots. Now we need to figure out together how to undo the damage they’ve done and make sure the person who truly deserves that prize gets it.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” asked mother. Something dry and hard had entered her voice.

The mayor was speaking to Mother, but she kept shifting her eyes towards Judith.

“Well now, let’s look at all this sensibly. I’ve been in communication with certain people on the Mainland, and the sticking point here is — if you’ll forgive me — your husband. Now…” Mother had taken a breath as if to speak and Madame raised her hands to forestall any comment “Hear me out, Brigitte, hear me out…”

“Nobody respects Bill’s integrity more than I do. And I understand that he’s sick. I pray for him every night, and when I go to St. Elmo’s, I always light a candle for him. But God love him, he’s a stubborn man, and once he’s decided on a course of action, well, we know how hard it is to change his mind. So I think we’re all aware he’s not going to do what could solve this matter once and for all.”

“He cannot travel, Kristal...” Mother began.

“And even if he could, he wouldn’t go to the states and straighten this out. You know and I know it, so let’s leave Bill’s health out of this, shall we, dear? It’s really beside the point. No…” Mayor Abbot looked at Mother. “This is up to you.”

“To me?”

Uncle Leon was no longer sitting. He never liked being still for long periods, and Judith was used to his habit of getting up and pacing during conversations, but the look he gave Mother made Judith uneasy.

“Yes, Brigitte, you,” said Kristal. “Everyone on this Island knows you know his business. He hardly ever discussed an issue at closed door meetings without bringing up something you’d said about it.”

“So what?”

“So…” Kristal smiled. “…you have the key to solving this whole thing.”

“Like I said, I’ve been in communication with certain people…”

“I can imagine who,” said Mother.

Mayor Abbot paused, a if marshalling her patience. “…certain people,” she continued, “who are willing to engage in a little give and take. What they want, Brigitte, is a gesture. Just some information, that’s all. It doesn’t have to be given publicly. Nobody else has to know about it.”

“Now, I’m willing to bet Bill told you things about meetings he attended, and who was there and what they might have said. People who really, when you come down to it, had no business at such gatherings. He might even have written a few things down. Things he’s forgotten about, notes he wouldn’t even notice were missing….”

Leon was no longer looking at Mother. He was looking steadily at Judith, his chin raised, his nostrils flared slightly, almost as if he were sniffing something in the air.

She told herself he could not possibly know, and willed her hands not to tighten over her purse.

“…if that information were passed on, whether orally or in writing, I have been told that gesture of good will would go a long way.”

“No,” Mother said.

“Absolutely not.”

“But where’s the harm?” The Mayor’s voice was almost tender. “I promise you, Bill would never find out. For all he’d know, the names could come from someone else on the Island. Come on, Brigitte, they just want enough so they can launch their own investigation.”

“And you can launch yours…”

“Now look…” Mayor Abbot snapped, her eyes narrowing.

Mother had always said a lady never raised her voice. She didn’t now. Judith had seen her look as angry as she was at this moment, but she had never, never before heard her mother swear.

“Jesus Christ. That certain people is a vindictive little prick!”

“Brigitte!” Leon hissed.

“Fermez ta guele, León. This isn’t about good will. It’s about that man getting Bill to truckle to him. He saw Artiste’s book in Bill’s office and now he wants to punish us all for it. I don’t believe for one minute Bill wouldn’t sooner or later find out exactly where the information came from. Of course he would find out. That’s the whole point.”

Judith rose to her feet. “Please!” She exclaimed. “Please, let’s not… I… Look, I don’t need the award. With Lee’s help we can afford Harvard, even if it means me paying her back later. It’ll be my responsiblity only…”

“No,” said Mayor Abbot, smiling. “I think not.”

Judith didn’t want to look at Mayor Abbot. She was afraid. She wanted to go home. At first she thought she was walking towards the door, but she found herself standing in front of her uncle. “Leon..,” she started to say. But she didn’t like looking at him either.

Behind her she heard footsteps, and Mayor Abbot’s voice. “Grow up, sweetie.”

“If your mother is not going to help you you’re going to have to help yourself. Now, I know for a fact you were typing up files for Artiste at his so-called church. Did you see anything we could use? If you know anything, anything at all I can offer, you need to tell us now. Because, little missy, this isn’t a game. This is the big, bad world, and being dumb has consequences. If those certain people don’t want you to get to the mainland, here, on the island you are going to stay, no matter how much money that trashy cousin of yours pays out.”

“But…” Judy felt as if she were about to cry. “No… I can’t!”

Leon stepped between them, and Mayor Abbot clicked her tongue contemptuously and stepped away, shaking her head. “Judy…” His voice was gentle. “Look at me. Listen to me.”

“Adulthood means hard decisions…sacrifices. Do you think I didn’t make sacrifices when I went to Tulane? Do you think I didn’t have to swallow garbage while I was there, bite my tongue? Someone once spotted a picture of your grandmother in my wallet, and I had to let him believe she was the damned maid.

Mammy, Jude. That was the word they used for my mother. And I had to take it.”

“Think of the future, just for a moment. Think of the difference you could make in the lives of so many, many people if you have that Harvard degree.”

“Do you want to wake up someday thinking of how things could have been? Of how other people’s lives might have gone? Of what you could have done for other people, but didn’t?”

“No,” she said. “No, I don’t.”

“I’m sorry. I have absolutely nothing to tell anyone.”

“Well,” Mayor Abbot snapped. “That’s that. Here you stay.”

“You can go to the medical school here on the Island, Judy.” Mother said. “You’ll still be a doctor.”

Mayor Abbot laughed. “A medical school whose board is in my pocket. Given your gender, it won’t be hard for me to convince them you’re an inappropriate MD candidate.”

“Hell, given your pedigree, you’ll be lucky if you even get into the Nursing School.”

Judith had thought she’d seen malice in the look that man had given her in her father’s office. She knew now she’d been wrong.

“Your disgusting old blackmailer of a grandfather left a lot of hatred behind, a lot of powerful people who remember those late night phone calls of his. Don’t imagine for one minute they’ve forgotten having their own sins dangled in front of them, or forgiven being made to dance to Tel Duday’s tune. Believe me, when he dropped dead there were champagne corks popping and glasses clinking in many a house on the west side.”

Mother was on her feet.

“You presume too much,”

“I presume?” Kristal snorted. “Madame, your entire life from the time you could walk has been one outrageous presumption, and everybody knows it. How many times have I had to keep from laughing as I watched you waddle your fat backside behind Shirley Bonney in the Pioneer’s procession?”

How many times have I seen other people snicker as you went by? You don’t really think all those folks, including Shirley, tolerated you at their parties and teas because they liked you do you? Someone whose father grew up sleeping on a straw pallet, while his father took bets on cockfights…”

Mother’s voice was cool.

“So says the daughter of a pimp and the granddaughter of a whore.”

“Honest trades compared to what your family is.”

“At least I’m not the daughter of an extortionist and the granddaughter of a fat sow of a wi…”

To Judith’s astonishment, Kristal Abbot suddenly went silent.

Mother smiled.

“Be careful, Kristal.”

“Speak of the devil on this Island and you’ll soon smell sulphur.”

“Anything my father did,” Mother said, “he did at the behest of Grandmere, who is, I remind you very much alive, and very, very alert. I doubt she would like it if she were aware that someone she’s known from childhood was insulting her. Or her son. Yes, yes, you sit in the Mayor’s office and everyone’s terribly impressed by how far you’ve come from the drooling, nose-picking, incontinent little imbecile Papa told me about, but don’t overreach, darlin’.”

“Suppose someway, somehow, Grandmere learned that, ‘Mayor Kristal Roselyn Abbot, the daughter of her old friend Amadou Roselyn, has called, Madame Gwennoelle Colombe de Plessis Duday a…”

Kristal flinched and held up her hand.

Her eyes were darting nervously around the room, as if she actually expected great-grandmere to appear.

“Come along, Judith.” Mother said. “We’re going home.”

As the walked towards the car, she heard Leon’s long, swift stride behind her, felt his hand on her arm as he whirled her around.

“Do you have any idea what you have given up?”

“I hope your glorious sainthood,” he continued, “will be a comfort while you’re rinsing out bedpans ten years from now.”

“Leon…” Mother’s voice was so quiet Judith had to strain to hear it. “Put your paws on my daughter again and I will break both your arms.”

“Ask little Miss Virtue what she has in her handbag.”

“Something that’s been stored away for awhile. Something Bill handled.” Judith half expected him to snatch her purse away, take out the bit of notepaper, and carry it in to Mayor Abbot.

“I know what she has in her purse.” Mother said. She looked at Leon and added, very calmly, “Go away.”

He turned and stalked to his car. They watched as he drove off, wheels screeching.

“My brother’s temper,” Mother said, “Is going to get him killed someday.”

“Mother,” Judith said, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

“I just…. I was afraid, last night, and I went upstairs and…”

“…tore out an entry from the notebook. Yes, I noticed a page was missing this morning.”

“I’m so ashamed…”

“Why? You didn’t use it, and I knew you wouldn’t.”

“But how could you know that?”

Judith supposed it was asking too much for Mother to smile tenderly, hold her and let her have a good cry. Instead, mother looked at her and frowned the way she always did when she felt she’d been asked an idle question.

“Because you’re not stupid,” she said.