'He's only seven,' Emily protested.
'And he has such a fine role model in your own son,' Trent added from across the room. 'With Brook around, whatever would give Patrick the idea that he can have everything he wants?'
Robyn glared at Trent, but Brook smiled, as if he thought his uncle's jab was a compliment.
'Daddy, really,' Robyn said, 'Patrick must learn his place.'
'Louise,' Adrian said calmly, 'seat Patrick on my right and Kate next to Patrick.'
Mrs. Hopewell nodded, her face expressionless as a wig stand.
Robyn blinked her eyes rapidly, as if fighting back tears, which I found a bit weird. She was too old to become unhinged at losing a battle over seats.
Emily pouted beautifully, like a model in a lipstick ad. 'Darling, Patrick was with Kate all afternoon and will be with her again this evening. I want him next to me at dinner.'
Adrian ignored his wife and turned his gaze on Robyn and Trent. 'Inviting guests for dinner is part of Patrick's training if he is to be the next head of this household. He may invite and seat his guests as he wishes.'
A sullen silence followed. Trent toyed with a paperweight on the table next to him. Robyn flipped furiously through a horse magazine, not pausing long enough to read a headline. Brook scowled at the ceiling, and Emily developed a sudden fascination with Patrick's model car. I excused myself to get ready for dinner, eager to get away from them all.
Was Adrian really planning to make Patrick the head of the household, his principal heir, I wondered; or was it simply his way of silencing the nasty group? It was certainly a good way to create antagonism toward Patrick. To Robyn and Trent, Patrick was a newcomer surpassing them in the amount of attention they received from their father, and perhaps in the amount of money.
Surely Patrick sensed the jealousy among the members of his family and felt their intense dislike for him. Most children, I thought, aware of others' hostility, either acted out or retreated. Perhaps Ashley, created out of snippets Patrick had heard from members of the household, was his retreat. In effect, he had made himself a new relative, one he could play with.
When I returned to the first floor, dinner was ready to be served. Adrian took his seat at the head of the long table, and Henry, the elderly employee, seated Emily on the left side of Adrian, across from Patrick. 1, of course, was to sit next to Patrick. Brook stood behind me as if courteously waiting to push in my chair. I felt his finger, the tip of it, making small circles on the bare skin at the back of my neck. I would have preferred being touched by a lizard. I glanced across the table at Robyn, who pulled in her own chair with a grim look.
'Now, Mother,' Brook told her, 'guests must be seated first. According to Patrick, Kate is a guest. And, as we all know, Patrick is the one who calls the shots around here.'
Sit down, Brook,' Adrian said, his voice quiet but carrying like thunder.
Brook sat next to me, with Trent across from him. A girl not much older than I assisted Henry in serving the soup. Mrs. Hopewell stood in the doorway and watched. For a few minutes all you could hear were spoons scraping against china and the wind coming off the bay. A fire had been made in the dining room hearth; it hissed and sputtered.
'You know my dump truck?' Patrick asked, breaking the silence.
'The one you unwrapped this afternoon?'' Adrian replied.
Patrick nodded. 'I gave Patricia a ride in it.'
'Oh, Patrick,' Emily said, 'your hamster should stay in her cage.'
'But she liked it, she really liked it-didn't she, Kate?' he said, appealing to me.
'She didn't actually say so, but yes, I believe she did.'
Patricia, being old as well as plump, had showed no inclination to scurry around. I didn't see any harm in letting her out of her cage. Children need to touch animals.
'The hamster must remain in her cage, Kate,' Emily said.
Yes, ma am.
'You were informed that Patrick is allergic to cats and dogs.'
'Yes, ma'am. Is he also allergic to hamsters?'
Brook laughed, which made my question seem flip.
'No,' Robyn answered, before Emily could. 'His mother is. She has a severe reaction to anything that walks on four legs.'
'So, Trent,' Adrian said, I had counted on meeting with you this afternoon. I've been going over last year's earnings, and I can't say I am pleased.'
Trent nodded. 'I assumed you would need a day to settle in, Father, so I dropped by Crossroads. We've received another complaint from the Gleasons, the family who lives next to it.'
'The shack people?' Brook interjected. 'The family who doesn't know when to stop having kids? Though that's okay with me. The oldest girl is pretty hot.'
'Stay away from her, Brook,' his mother said. 'She's not our kind of people.'
'It's good of you to remind me, Brook,' Adrian added dryly. 'Mrs. Hopewell, with Brook home, you must remember not to set the house security system at night. We don't need the alarm going off at four in the morning.'
'This time,' Trent went on in his businesslike, colorless voice, 'the Gleasons have contacted the county animal control people and have asked them to examine the fencing on the kennels. They believe the dogs are a danger to their children, who play next to them.'
Adrian shrugged. 'I believe their children are a danger to my dogs.'
Robyn laughed, a bit too loudly. 'The Gleasons have contacted the right person in our family,' she observed. 'Did you pet the dogs, Trent, to convince the family that they are friendly?'
'No, he stuck his head in one of their mouths,' Brook said, making his mother laugh again and even winning a smile from Adrian.
I remembered how timid Trent had been around Ashley's collection of animals, especially the wild creatures she was always feeding-featherless birds, baby raccoons, and her favorite, a battle-scarred orange tabby.
'The point is,' Trent said, 'we will need to comply with suggestions by the county. If the dogs got out and something happened, we could be sued.'
'The dogs know their job,' Adrian replied. 'They will maul anyone who enters the building after hours, just as I trained them to do. Case closed.'
The soup was removed and the next course brought in, steak with vegetables. Patrick was silent, his eyes flicking from one member of the family to the next, like those of a wary animal.
'Did Louise give you a phone message, Trent?' Emily asked. 'Someone from the Queen Victoria called today.'
'The hotel?' Robyn cut in. 'You're not still seeing that woman, Margery whatever.'
'Gilbert,' Trent said, pronouncing the last name distinctly.
'I would think, Trent,' Robyn went on, 'that somewhere in New York or Philadelphia, you could find a woman more suitable than a hotel manager who went through the Wisteria public school system.'
'And I would think,' Trent responded, 'that if you had a worthwhile way to spend your life, you wouldn't be so concerned about mine.'
'Perhaps if she had her own romance,' Emily suggested slyly. 'How many years has it been since you've had a man in your life, Robyn? I mean, besides your father.'
Robyn's eyes bored through Emily.
A sudden gust of wind rattled the dining room's old windowpanes. The flame in the fireplace sputtered and blew out.
'Where-where did that come from?' Trent asked softly.
Everyone turned, following his eyes to a window. The sky was completely black now, but the outside floodlights had come on, lighting the window casements like small stages against the darkness. There wasn't a
