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.