“Well, they’ll say anything.” North smiled at her, a real smile this time. “Mother, you are not like Kelly O’Keefe. Sullivan is not interested in her because he thinks she’s you. Neither of us is Oedipal.”

“Oh, please,” Lydia said. “Andromeda was exactly like me.”

North lost his smile. “I beg your pardon.”

Lydia frowned at him again. “Aside from her teeth and those damn peasant skirts, she was practically my twin.” She thought for a moment. “Except for the baking. I don’t bake. I haven’t had decent banana bread since she left.”

“No,” North said, showing what he thought was remarkable restraint. “I never looked at Andie and saw you.”

“Not consciously, but a weak, silly woman would have bored you to tears.” She nodded once at him. “You picked a ballbuster, just like me.”

“Excuse me,” North said. “I’d like to continue this conversation but I find myself in need of a therapist.”

“Kelly O’Keefe is a stupid woman. She thinks bullying people will make her look tough. Instead, she just looks like a sociopath.” Lydia stared angrily into space. “I think she is a sociopath. They’re often very successful, you know.”

“I know. I’ve defended several. Well, this has been-”

“I’m going to call the McKennas, have them look into her. She’s hiding something. And of course, she’s using him.”

North was tempted to argue the “of course, she’s using him,” but of course, she was. And of course, Southie was using her, too. It seemed fair. “No, you will not put a private detective on Kelly O’Keefe.”

“Then I’ll have to meet her.” Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. “You should meet her, too. Your judgment is very good.”

“I don’t even like watching her on television. Was there anything else?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, exasperated. “I want you to stop Sullivan from seeing that woman. I don’t want teeth like that on my grandchildren.”

“I doubt very much that Kelly O’Keefe will give birth.”

“Which is another problem,” Lydia said. “Sullivan is my only hope for grandchildren. I don’t want all my genes in Kelly O’Keefe’s egg basket, especially if she’s not going to use them.”

North raised his eyebrows. “Leaving aside Kelly’s… basket, Sullivan is your only hope?”

“Well, you’re not going to give me any. You’ll never stop working long enough to procreate.”

North opened his mouth to disagree and Lydia ran right over him.

“We have to stop this, North.”

“Mother, leave Sullivan to his dentally challenged newscaster. He won’t marry her. If he does, it’s his life and his choice. The umbilical cord was cut thirty-four years ago, stop trying to haul him back by it. You don’t do that with me, give Sullivan the same respect.”

“I can’t do that with you. You bit through yours at birth.”

“And now I’ll be canceling dinner.”

“I have heard that she’s asking about Archer House. She’s asking about the children and the house.”

North considered how much to tell her. “She’s interested in the ghost stories.”

“She’s not asking about ghosts. She’s asking about you and the children. That’s her specialty, stirring up outrage about children. I don’t like it. I especially don’t like it with all the trouble we’ve had keeping nannies. How’s the new one doing?”

“She quit. I don’t see how Kelly O’Keefe can use the kids. They’re not being starved or beaten. What’s her hook going to be?”

“That they’re down there alone in a haunted house?” Lydia snapped. “I think if she got hold of that last demented nanny, she could make a story out of that. You’ve got to get somebody else down there-”

“Already did,” North said, seeing danger ahead. “Very competent. Not a problem. You’re looking tired, Mother. I’d make it an early night if I were you.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes. “Would you? That’s very thoughtful. Where did you get this nanny? From the same service?”

“No.” North picked up his pen. “Anything else?”

Lydia’s icy blue eyes met his. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now, or do I have to sit here all night and stare at you until you break?”

North put the pen down. “I sent Andie.”

Lydia’s face went slack with surprise, which was some reward, North thought. It took a lot to surprise Lydia.

“Andromeda?”

“Yes,” North said. “You remember her. Dark eyes, curly hair, smart mouth, about this tall”-he held his hand out at about ear height-“used to be married to me.”

“Andromeda is back?”

“She called and asked to see me two days after the last nanny quit. She was free, and I asked her to go down there and straighten things out, and she said yes.”

“Are you going to resume the relationship?”

“No. Now I have work to get back to-”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to see her again. It’s been ten years, she’s probably dressing like an adult now-”

“She’s engaged,” North said flatly.

Lydia lost her smile. “Why?”

“I assume because she’d like to be married again.”

“Who could she find that would be better than you?” Lydia said, outraged.

“I think ‘better’ is subjective.” North picked up his pen and tapped it on his legal pad. “And now I really have to work.”

Lydia looked at him, exasperation plain. “I gave birth to idiots. My oldest son can’t keep his wife, and my youngest son is chasing a woman that’s mostly teeth and hair.”

“We blame you,” North said.

“Are you going to see Andromeda again?”

“No.”

“Are you going to keep that harpy away from your brother?”

“No.”

Lydia lifted her chin. “Fine, I will handle things myself.” She stood up and tucked her purse under her arm. “But if the future face of the Archer line is ninety-nine percent tooth enamel, it’ll be your fault.”

Of course, North thought as she walked out.

He tried to go back to work, but his mother had broken his concentration. She’s probably dressing like an adult now, Lydia had said, and Andie had sat there in an awful suit jacket, acting like an adult. If they got back together, he was burning that damn jacket-

They weren’t getting back together. She was marrying somebody else.

She’s a bolter. Even if she marries this other guy, she won’t stick.

Unless she’d really changed. Unless she’d found somebody she wanted to stick to.

That was the worst thought he’d had in a long time, so he shoved it out of his mind and went back to work.

The next morning Andie went downstairs, made breakfast, and put French toast in front of Alice and Carter.

“Cereal,” Alice said, clutching her pearls, her locket, her shells, her Walkman, and her bat as if the French toast was going to contaminate them. She’d put her hair up in a topknot on her own, and it was sliding down the side of her head, but Andie was willing to let that go if Alice was going to be proactive about grooming.

“Try the French toast,” Andie said while Mrs. Crumb sniffed.

Alice shrank back. “No, no, no, NO, NO-”

“It’s good,” Carter said without looking up from his book.

Alice stopped shrinking, leaned forward, and took a tiny, cautious bite. “AAAAAAAAAAAAGH.”

“Fine,” Andie said, and took the plate away.

Alice pushed her chair back and went and got her cereal and ate a big bowl of it. She was scraping the bottom loudly when they heard a loud, sharp rapping echo through the open door to the hall.

“That’s the front door,” Mrs. Crumb said, surprised.

“Right,” Andie said, remembering. “That might be a cable company, and there’s also a team of housecleaners coming in to clean-”

“What?” Mrs. Crumb said, her eyes protruding even more in her shock.

“I’ll get the door,” Andie said, and went out into the small hall, through another door, across the Great Hall, through the stone arch into the entrance hall, and finally arrived at the heavy front door. “Sorry,” she said as she opened it. “It’s a real trek to get here.” Then she stopped.