Page 4 of The Housekeeper

Chapter Three

“What do youmean, you hired her?” my sister demanded. “Without consulting me? Without my even meeting her?”

“I asked you to be present,” I reminded her.

“And I told you, I had an exercise class that afternoon.”

“You have an exercise classeveryafternoon,” I pointed out, noting the black leggings and cropped white T-shirt bearing the Goodlife logo that she was wearing. Discomfort fluttered through my chest like a trapped butterfly. The last thing I wanted was an argument. I’d been feeling more optimistic, less stressed, than I had in weeks, and I’d invited Tracy for dinner—salmon, one of the few things she ate—to celebrate our good fortune in having secured Elyse’s services.

Tracy tucked her long blond hair, blow-dried ramrod straight, behind one ear, then shook her head, so that her hair returned to the exact spot it had been initially. She adjusted the silver Tiffany heart around her neck and lifted one shapely leg to rest her bare foot on the purple suede of the sectional sofa in our family room. “Oh, God. Whatisthis?” she asked, surgically straightened nose and Juvéderm-filled lips crinkling with disdain as she extricated a small mass of hot pink Play-Doh from her heel.

“Sorry.” I peeled the offending blob from her fingers andpushed myself off the sofa, walking the several steps into our kitchen and throwing the offending Play-Doh into the garbage bin under the sink.

“Could you get me a glass of water while you’re there?” Tracy asked. “Ew,” she said when I handed it to her. “It’s not very cold. You don’t have any bottled water in the fridge?”

“Sorry.” Two apologies in less than one minute, I thought. Possibly a new record.

She deposited the glass on the end table beside her without taking a sip. “So, tell me all about this Elyse Woodley.”

“She’s perfect,” I said, reclaiming my seat on the other side of the sectional. Immediately, I felt a small plastic superhero dig into my side. “Patient, kind, lots of experience with the elderly and people with medical problems…”

“You checked her references?”

“Of course. They couldn’t have been more glowing.” I’d spoken to both the daughter of Elyse’s erstwhile neighbor and the son of the man who’d died from cancer, and both had been nothing short of rapturous in their praise. “Trust me. I interviewed a lot of women. She was far and away the best.”

“So, how much is Wonder Woman costing us?” Tracy asked.

“Dad’s paying for everything,” I reminded her.

“Out of our inheritance.”

“Tracy, for God’s sake!”

“Oh, don’t be such a goody-goody. It’s true.”

I had no desire to debate the issue, so I said nothing.

Tracy shrugged. “You haven’t told me what Dad thinks of her.”

My turn to shrug. “He hasn’t met her yet.”

“You hired her without Dad’s approval? Are you kidding me?”

“The offer is obviously conditional on both sides liking what they see. I’m meeting her at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow. One o’clock. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Why do you always pick a time when I have something else on?” Tracy asked. “You could check with me first, you know.”

“Maybe you could reschedule,” I suggested, ignoring the challenge in her voice.

“Maybe.”

“You haven’t visited them in a while,” I ventured, issuing an implied challenge of my own. “I’m sure Mom would be thrilled…”

“You know I have a hard time seeing her this way.”

“It’s not easy for anybody.”

“You don’t understand. You’re better with these things than I am. I’m too sensitive…”