“I can’t do that with you. You bit through yours at birth.”
“And now I’ll be canceling dinner.”
“I have heard that she’s asking about Archer House. She’s asking about the children and the house.”
North considered how much to tell her. “She’s interested in the ghost stories.”
“She’s not asking about ghosts. She’s asking about you and the children. That’s her specialty, stirring up outrage about children. I don’t like it. I especially don’t like it with all the trouble we’ve had keeping nannies. How’s the new one doing?”
“She quit. I don’t see how Kelly O’Keefe can use the kids. They’re not being starved or beaten. What’s her hook going to be?”
“That they’re down there alone in a haunted house?” Lydia snapped. “I think if she got hold of that last demented nanny, she could make a story out of that. You’ve got to get somebody else down there-”
“Already did,” North said, seeing danger ahead. “Very competent. Not a problem. You’re looking tired, Mother. I’d make it an early night if I were you.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes. “Would you? That’s very thoughtful. Where did you get this nanny? From the same service?”
“No.” North picked up his pen. “Anything else?”
Lydia’s icy blue eyes met his. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now, or do I have to sit here all night and stare at you until you break?”
North put the pen down. “I sent Andie.”
Lydia’s face went slack with surprise, which was some reward, North thought. It took a lot to surprise Lydia.
“Andromeda?”
“Yes,” North said. “You remember her. Dark eyes, curly hair, smart mouth, about this tall”-he held his hand out at about ear height-“used to be married to me.”
“Andromeda is back?”
“She called and asked to see me two days after the last nanny quit. She was free, and I asked her to go down there and straighten things out, and she said yes.”
“Are you going to resume the relationship?”
“No. Now I have work to get back to-”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to see her again. It’s been ten years, she’s probably dressing like an adult now-”
“She’s engaged,” North said flatly.
Lydia lost her smile. “Why?”
“I assume because she’d like to be married again.”
“Who could she find that would be better than you?” Lydia said, outraged.
“I think ‘better’ is subjective.” North picked up his pen and tapped it on his legal pad. “And now I really have to work.”
Lydia looked at him, exasperation plain. “I gave birth to idiots. My oldest son can’t keep his wife, and my youngest son is chasing a woman that’s mostly teeth and hair.”
“We blame you,” North said.
“Are you going to see Andromeda again?”
“No.”
“Are you going to keep that harpy away from your brother?”
“No.”
Lydia lifted her chin. “Fine, I will handle things myself.” She stood up and tucked her purse under her arm. “But if the future face of the Archer line is ninety-nine percent tooth enamel, it’ll be your fault.”
Of course, North thought as she walked out.
He tried to go back to work, but his mother had broken his concentration. She’s probably dressing like an adult now, Lydia had said, and Andie had sat there in an awful suit jacket, acting like an adult. If they got back together, he was burning that damn jacket-
They weren’t getting back together. She was marrying somebody else.
She’s a bolter. Even if she marries this other guy, she won’t stick.
Unless she’d really changed. Unless she’d found somebody she wanted to stick to.
That was the worst thought he’d had in a long time, so he shoved it out of his mind and went back to work.
The next morning Andie went downstairs, made breakfast, and put French toast in front of Alice and Carter.
“Cereal,” Alice said, clutching her pearls, her locket, her shells, her Walkman, and her bat as if the French toast was going to contaminate them. She’d put her hair up in a topknot on her own, and it was sliding down the side of her head, but Andie was willing to let that go if Alice was going to be proactive about grooming.
“Try the French toast,” Andie said while Mrs. Crumb sniffed.
Alice shrank back. “No, no, no, NO, NO-”
“It’s good,” Carter said without looking up from his book.
Alice stopped shrinking, leaned forward, and took a tiny, cautious bite. “AAAAAAAAAAAAGH.”
“Fine,” Andie said, and took the plate away.
Alice pushed her chair back and went and got her cereal and ate a big bowl of it. She was scraping the bottom loudly when they heard a loud, sharp rapping echo through the open door to the hall.
“That’s the front door,” Mrs. Crumb said, surprised.
“Right,” Andie said, remembering. “That might be a cable company, and there’s also a team of housecleaners coming in to clean-”
“What?” Mrs. Crumb said, her eyes protruding even more in her shock.
“I’ll get the door,” Andie said, and went out into the small hall, through another door, across the Great Hall, through the stone arch into the entrance hall, and finally arrived at the heavy front door. “Sorry,” she said as she opened it. “It’s a real trek to get here.” Then she stopped.
There was a crowd on the doorstep.
“We’re the Happy Housekeepers,” the woman in front said cheerfully. “Where do you want us?”
“The whole house is filthy,” Andie said. “Go nuts everyplace but the kitchen. Mrs. Crumb is in there with knives.”
“That’s a good one,” the woman said. “We’ll start at the top and work down.”
They all piled in, one of them stopping to say, “That driveway of yours is awful.”
“I know, I know, I’m getting it fixed,” Andie said.
“It’s all right,” the woman said. “We’d have climbed down that bank to get to see into this house.”
“Oh. Uh, good,” Andie said, and went back to the kitchen where Mrs. Crumb was hyperventilating. “Look,” she said when she was facing the old woman, “you can’t keep this place clean. No one person could keep this place clean.”
“This is my house,” Mrs. Crumb snapped, shaking with rage, even her teased red updo quivering now.
“No,” Andie said, when she heard the doorknocker again and went to let the cable guy in.
“That driveway,” he said, and she said, “I know, let me know if you need anything,” and then she went back to the kitchen to deal with the red-faced housekeeper again, only to be pulled back to the front door by a FedEx guy, who handed over a big box.
“I had to walk that down your driveway,” he said as she signed for the package. “You need to get that fixed.”
“Yeah,” Andie said, and then met Carter at the bottom of the stairs as he headed for the library. “Here,” she said, handing him the package. “This is addressed to you, and I have to deal with Mrs. Crumb before she knifes one of the cleaning people.”
She turned back to the kitchen but the knocker went again, this time a guy named Bruce who said he’d been sent to look over the house for repairs. “I walked around it,” he said slowly. “You gotta lotta work here.”
“Driveway first,” Andie said, “and then-”
Upstairs, Alice began to scream, “NO NO NO NO NO NO,” and Andie said, “Just make a list,” and ran for the stairs.
Once she’d gotten Alice’s comforter away from the poor woman who was trying to put it in the laundry-“It’s new,” she said, “it’s okay”-and Alice and the comforter and Jessica-the-dead-blue-doll back down to the kitchen with some cocoa as an apology, she confronted Mrs. Crumb again.
Mrs. Crumb turned on her and spat, “I’m not going to put up with this!”
“You’re quitting?” Andie said, hope rising, but Mrs. Crumb saw the abyss and stepped back.
“You brought those women into my house,” she said, and pressed her lips together until her small mouth almost disappeared. “You had no right-”