Page 78 of The Housekeeper

“What?”

“I’m being transferred back to Detroit.”

“Oh.” I felt my eyes well up with tears.

“Yeah. So I guess it’s a good thing that we didn’t find that condo.”

“When are you leaving?”

“The end of next week.”

“So soon,” I said.

“Any chance of seeing you before I go?”

I took a deep breath, then checked my watch. I had almost three hours before I had to get the kids from school. “What are you doing right now?”

—

Ten minutes later, he was at my door.

“Hi,” he said as I ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. “You look beautiful. As always.”

“I don’t. But thank you.”

“You do. And you’re welcome.”

“Would you like anything to drink?”

“Nothing, thank you.”

What now? I wondered, thinking that I never should have invited him over. He looked too damn good. And he was here.Here. Where Harrison should have been.

It was all I could do to keep from throwing myself into his arms. Instead, I led him into the family room at the back of the house, motioning for him to sit down. He sat at one end of the sofa; I sat on the other, afraid to get too close. My heart was beating so loudly, I was certain he could hear it.

“So, tell me what’s been going on,” he said.

That’s all it took.

In the next second, I was pouring my heart out, relating the grisly details of my mother’s death, the fiasco regarding her jewelry, my subsequent estrangement from my father, his decision to give my mother’s earrings to Tracy, my worries regarding Elyse.

It felt so good to let it all out. It felt even better to know that someone was listening.

“You really think she’s consciously trying to drive a wedge between you and your sister?” Roger asked.

“You think I’m being paranoid,” I acknowledged.

“On the contrary,” he surprised me by saying. “I think you should trust your instincts. If your instincts are telling you that this woman is trying to drive a wedge between you and your sister, then you’re probably right. Do you have any idea why she’d want to do that?”

I told him that my father and Elyse had been sleeping together for months, and that I suspected she was interested in being more than a housekeeper.

“You think she wants to marry your father?”

“You think I’m crazy?” I asked in return.

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

Again, I fought the urge to fling myself across the sofa into his embrace. “So, what do I do?” I asked instead.