'Let's go see them.' — As Patrick and I left, he glanced over his shoulder. 'We'll be back later,' he assured whatever he saw in the wintry air.
Friday morning I drove to Wisteria Country Day School, muttering to myself all the way.
'Why do you keep saying, 'To the right'?' Patrick asked as we motored along.
'So I remember to drive on that side of the road.'
'Why would you drive on the other side? There are cars coming.'
'Good point.'
After dropping him off, I arrived back at the house in the middle of a family quarrel, the subject of which was money-who was spending how much on what. I paused in the hall, picking out the voices of Trent, Robyn, and Emily. Two women carrying cleaning equipment, part of the estate's day help, nodded to me as they passed. They either pretended not to notice the raised voices or were so used to it, they weren't interested. I headed upstairs, glad that I had eaten breakfast earlier and that my room was two floors above those where the family gathered.
The bright day made the white room cheerier than it had seemed two days ago, and the slanting roof made it snug, though no warmer. Outside the wind was gusting up and the temperature dropping. The plaster walls of the room were cold to the touch, the old glass panes in the windows frigid. Mrs.
Hopewell had provided me with a wool blanket, quilt, rug, and what appeared to be old kitchen curtains-thin panels of yellow fabric with red teapots all over. I stuffed towels at the base of both windows, pulled a chair closer to the radiator, and settled down to read. My only company was the photo of my father that I had set on my bureau.
About eleven o'clock I heard a car drive up to the house and a flurry of activity downstairs, indicating that Adrian Westbrook had arrived home. An hour later, though I had not asked for lunch, I was informed by intercom that it would be delivered. My offer to fetch it myself was rejected. Henry, the older gentleman who had first answered the door for Amelia and me, served me in my room and instructed me to leave the dirty dishes outside my door. I wondered if the situation downstairs was tense.
Over lunch, I studied my U.S. atlas, focusing on the Maryland area, calculating the distance from the Eastern Shore to Washington, D.C. It appeared short enough for a day trip. I finished my soup and sandwich, put on headphones and a CD, then flipped through another book, looking for sites both Patrick and I would enjoy; after all, I was supposed to be introducing him to things that 'a well-bred person should know.'
I didn't know how long Mrs. Hopewell was standing inside my room, observing me read. With my music on, I hadn't heard her open the door.
'Mr. Westbrook will see you now.'
I pulled off the headphones. 'I'm sorry, did you knock?'
She ignored the question. 'He hasn't a lot of time to waste.'
'Please tell him I'll be down in five minutes,' I said, wanting to wash my face and retrieve the ring from my drawer unobserved.
'He will see you now.'
Interpreting this to mean I was to follow her, I stood up, making a motion to do so. She preceded me out the door, and I closed it behind her. 'I won't be long,' I called.
A few minutes later, I found Mrs. Hopewell waiting for me on the second-floor landing.
'I hope that Mr. Westbrook has been told about me,' I said, as we descended the stairs. 'Mr. Trent seemed rather startled yesterday.'
'He has been informed,' the housekeeper replied coolly. 'He knows who you are.'
'Good.'
It was curious, I thought, that Mrs. Hopewell had made the long trek up to the third floor to fetch me rather than employing the intercom, or Henry, or the young man I had noticed at her beck and call in the kitchen earlier. Of course, that is the problem with wanting to be in control-it requires a great deal of personal effort.
'Mrs. Hopewell, do you still live in the house?'
'Yes.'
'If I remember correctly, you are in the section that connects to Mrs. Caulfield's wing, the second floor of it.'
She glanced sideways at me. 'You must remember a great deal from your time here.'
'Just bits and pieces,' I replied. 'I don't think I could draw a map of the house or the estate, but I do seem to know how to get from one place to the next.'
She waited till we reached the bottom of the steps, then turned toward me, blocking my path with her foot. Her muddy brown eyes had a peculiar shine to them. 'I am sure your mother filled you in on many things.'
'No, after we left Mason's Choice, she and I never talked about the place.' I saw no reason to inform Mrs. Hopewell that we never talked at all.
The woman's nostrils quivered, as if she could sniff the truth, then she ushered me to the office and gave a quick double rap on the door.
'Thank you, Louise,' a voice called from within.
She opened the door.
'Katie Vefterelli,' Adrian Westbrook greeted me, rising from behind the desk as I stepped inside the room. 'All grown-up! What an enchanting sight you are! Welcome back, Katie,' he said, taking my hands warmly, then cocking his head slightly to the right, as if looking over my shoulder. 'That will be all, Louise.'
Mrs. Hopewell turned abruptly and exited.
'The door, Louise,' he called after her.
It was closed. I imagined her listening through the keyhole.
'Hello, Mr. Westbrook.'
'Mr. Westbrook? Have we suddenly become formal? Must I now call you Miss Venerelli? Don't you remember, child, you insisted on calling me Adrian, no matter how many times your parents corrected you. You said you liked the name much better. You're not going to change that, are you?'
'Well-' 'I'd be insulted-l'd feel like a doddering old man if you called me Mr. Westbrook. I'm already old and will be doddering soon enough, as I'm sure they've told you. They're all abuzz about my impending demise. It's a wonder they haven't put tags on the furniture, claiming their loot. But don't you make me a relic before I have to be.'
His blue eyes had lost none of their spark, and his white hair, though shorter than in his pictures, was still thick. He hasn't had radiation recently, I thought. His color was poor, as was my father's, but despite illness and age, he was a handsome man, having the large, even features Robyn had inherited, plus a sense of humor, which she hadn't. The lines engraved in his face traced amusement rather than frustration and anger.
'You look wonderful,' I said honestly.
'You've worked one day and you want a raise?'
'You know that isn't true. And you know that what I said, is.'
He smiled. It was nice to feel at ease with someone in the house. I had liked Adrian as a child and found that I still liked him now.
He gestured for me to sit down, then took a seat himself. 'My condolences on the loss of your father.'
'Thank you.'
'And your mother, how is she?'
'I haven't seen her since I was five.'
For the second time in two days, I had someone gazing at me incredulously.
I knew she and Luke had separated, but I assumed…' He didn't complete his sentence. 'So you are on your own,' he said. 'That can't be easy.'
'I can handle it.'
