Jean-Pierre dropped before her and rested his head in her lap.
"Yes, I will," she said, and placed her hand on Jean-Pierre's
head. "Yes, as soon as he gets home from New York, yes."
Jean-Pierre lifted his face. He was silently mouthing a word, but
she could not understand him.
"No, I can't think of anything. I'm sure by the time I call you
back I'll have - oh, wait." She cupped her hand over the
mouthpiece.
"Property," Jean-Pierre whispered.
"Oh yes, Mitchell, I do have one question." She held the phone
with both hands and looked out the window. "Mitchell, I'm not
clear on a few things in these matters. The property. The house.
Assets. Those sorts of things."
Jean-Pierre held her around the waist with both arms. In the
distance she could see his small cottage, the ranch, a few horses
being led from the stable.
"It is half, then," she said softly. Her hand dropped to
Jean-Pierre's head and slid down to his shoulder. She held on
tight. "Half of everything," she uttered, feeling as if her lips
were suddenly anesthetized.
"Okay," she said, her voice different now, smaller. "Thank you,
Mitchell. I'll contact you soon." She placed the handset on its
cradle and closed her eyes.
Jean-Pierre seated himself beside her and wrapped his arms around
her and held her tight. He whispered to her soothingly, to
breathe slowly, relax.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313