Chapter 12: Elephant Breakfast

"The Duchess Sanctuary," I said.

"On Duchess's own land. With the money they raised on Duchess's own face."

Darlene stood and buttoned her camel coat.

"It's a generous offer for a hay farm," she said. "Thirty days, Jody. Do try to be realistic."

She walked out past Kyla, who kept filming us all the way to the elevator.

Ramsey didn't let go of my hand in the elevator, or in the lobby, or on the sidewalk on Madison Avenue.

"I can't buy it," he said. "I can't bid. Neither can you."

"Clyde can."

He stopped walking.

"Pine Hollow can bid," I said. "It's Clyde's. It's not a trustee and it's not married to one."

"It has eleven thousand dollars."

"Eighty-six thousand and eleven. As of Tuesday." I started walking again. "And I'm going to open the gate."

Clyde said no for two days.

"Strangers," he said, at breakfast. "Kids with sticky hands. Mabel hates noise. Duchess hates ties. Half of Westchester wears a tie to buy a bagel."

"So we put up a sign. No ties."

"Kid."

"Clyde, there are three million dollars on the other side of this. I can't beat it with a donate button."

He drank his coffee for a long time.

"What would they even do here?"

"Watch them eat breakfast. From behind the paddock fence. Pancakes for the people, watermelon for the girls. Twenty-five dollars a head, kids free."

"Pancakes."

"Ramsey's going to make them."

Clyde turned slowly in his chair to look at Ramsey.

Ramsey, at the stove, lifted the spatula.

"I own eleven hotels," he said. "I can make a pancake."

"You own eleven hotels," said Clyde. "You've never made a pancake in your life."

"I've watched."

Clyde grunted.

It wasn't a no.

The first Elephant Breakfast was the next Saturday at eight.

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