Page 159 of The Housekeeper

“It’s worth a shot,” I told her.

“Definitely worth a shot,” she agreed.

—

Elyse was outside conferring with one of the men working on the exterior of the house when I pulled into the driveway. She was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts that skimmed the tops of her knees. The man was wearing a bright yellow hard hat; Elyse, a wide-brimmed straw bonnet.

“Jodi…Tracy,” she said, cupping her hand over her eyes as she walked toward us. “To what do we owe this unexpected treat?”

Really?I wondered as Tracy and I exited the car.How long were we going to play this game?

“We’re here to see our father,” Tracy said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He’s having a little nap right now.”

Tracy checked her watch. “It’s three o’clock.”

“Which is when he usually takes his nap.”

“He always said that afternoon naps were for sissies,” I told her.

“Well, your father is certainly no sissy.” Elyse smiled. “Nor is he as young as he used to be.”

“Yes. He seems to have aged rather rapidly since you got married.”

The smile disappeared from Elyse’s face. “Is there a message I can give him?”

“We can wait till he wakes up,” I said.

“That could be a while.”

“Are you denying us access to our father?” Tracy asked.

Elyse’s eyes opened wide, as if an alarm had sounded silently in her head at Tracy’s use of words. She paused, the smile returning to her lips, although it failed to reach her eyes. “Of course not. Why on earth would I do that?”

“You tell us,” Tracy said.

“I doubt I could tell you girls anything.” Elyse’s left arm motioned toward the front door. “After you.”

—

Our father was lying on his side on top of the new ivory-colored, quilted bedspread covering the king-size bed, facing toward the back window, snoring softly.

“Vic, darling,” Elyse all but cooed as we entered the room. “Wake up, sweetheart. Look who’s here.”

Our father stirred. “Huh?”

“Your daughters are here to see you, darling.”

He sat up, turned toward us, his gaunt face a mask of confusion. “Who’s that?” he asked, watery eyes moving warily between Tracy and me.

“It’s Tracy and me, Dad,” I told him. “Don’t you recognize us?”

“Of course he recognizes you,” Elyse said for him. “He’s still half-asleep.”

“Of course I recognize you,” our father parroted. “What do you want?”

“We were in the neighborhood,” I began.