The Mask of New Paris ✓

VII. Paradise Grove

My lips form a faint o in wonder. To grow up in such a luxurious home must've been wonderful. Without any hesitation, Reed opens the front gate and lets me pass by. I look up at the house looming in front of me. It is truly a remarkable piece of architecture, a combination of bayou elegance and foreign flair.

Reed knocks on the door. It kind of surprises me he just doesn't barge in. An old man I don't recognize opens the door and he doesn't seem surprised at all, more annoyed as if the day has just gotten worse by seeing the two of us.

"Goodday, Ray." Reed says as he pushes himself past the man. I can now clearly see he's in employment, sporting dark trousers and a yellow and grey striped vest.

"Always a pleasure if you grace us with your presence, Mr. Reed." The man replies, although his toneless voice doesn't resound of any warm feelings.

"Annabelle, this is the butler, Raymond. Raymond, my wife." Reed says and he takes good notice of the butlers' reaction. The old man doesn't show any emotion apart from a rise of his eyebrow, leaving deep rimples in his leathery forehead, all the way to his retreating hairline.

"Always a pleasure to serve a new member of the family." Raymond bows.

A presence on top of the stairs calls out to us before the situation gets even more awkward.

"Reed, dear, is that you?" Mrs. Whitacre shrieks as she descends the marble staircase with a rushed flair. She's wearing a lovely, pale blue dress, a sparkly belt tied around her waist. She kisses Reed on both of his cheeks as she makes it downstairs, before giving me a similar welcome.

"Reed, you should be ashamed not to bring Annabelle here any sooner. You've been inside that house for nearly two days and the people are starting to wonder."

Reed rolls his eyes. "Who have you told it to?" He absentmindedly skims over the newspaper that's laying ready near a vase of bright yellow flowers.

"I haven't told anyone." Mrs. Whitacre responds and she opens the door to reveal a spacious living room.

"I've had it published in the paper." She continues as she enters the room.

I stare as Reed lowers the newspaper to stare at his mother in disbelief. The older woman continues undisturbed as Reed follows her inside the white, spacious room.

"And when were you to tell me?" He asks, a sudden shadow crossing over his face. The joyful expression has completely left his eyes.

"That happens when you don't bother stepping by, son. It was the easiest way to inform everyone without forgetting someone." Amelia Whitacre continues. Her hands determinedly organize the magazines on the coffee table.

"Oh, lord gracious, Annabelle, please sit down and have a cup of tea." She says, instructing me to the white couches in her bright living room. Unsure, I walk in and do as I am told. She completely ignores the thundercloud her son is having above his head.

"Reed, dear, don't make a fuss about it. I'd rather have everybody know it like it is, instead of rumours goin' 'round." She says, whilst shoving me a cup of bright pink tea across the glass surface of the coffee table.

Reed pinches the bridge of his nose in thought. "Mother, can I use your phone? I believe my employer would like to have a word with me about this matter."

Mrs. Whitacre scoffs. "This matter? It's your marriage, Reed. But go on, you know where it hangs." She waves him away with her tiny, soft hands. Without any more to say, Reed storms out of the room and disappears in the hallway. Raymond stands next to the door with a grin of malicious delight.