Andie stood up. “Just tell me how to get rid of them,” she said to Isolde, and then she looked at Kelly. “I’m telling you now, if any of this ends up on television, I am kicking your ass from here to Cleveland. I know you’re wiry and you probably fight dirty, but I have size and rage on my side, so don’t cross me.”

“Well, really,” Kelly said, smiling at her, all teeth. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Like hell,” Andie said. “Also, Southie? She’s cheating on you with the cameraman.”

“What?” Southie said, turning to look at Bill, who said, “Hey, I was there first,” and Isolde said, “This is not helping,” and then there was another knock and Andie went to the front door, prepared to snarl at whatever idiot was screwing up her life now.

She yanked open the door and saw Lydia Archer, standing under an umbrella and looking like avenging death.

“Is my son here?” Lydia snapped.

“Southie? Yes,” Andie said.

Lydia walked in, said, “I like your teeth,” shook out her umbrella and left it draining on the stone floor, and then went down the hall, following the candlelight through the stone archway in her quest for Southie.

“My teeth?” Andie said to her back and closed the door.

She picked up speed and got there just as Lydia saw Kelly.

“You!” she said, fury in her voice, and then there was a flash of lightning from the storm, and Andie saw three figures in the Great Hall that hadn’t been there before: the thing in the tiered dress, a man who looked like the guy on the tower in an old-fashioned coat, and May, pirouetting with perfect grace, her dark curls flying.

Hi, she said to Andie. You wanted to see us? We’re here.

“Oh, my God,” Andie said, cutting across the beginning of Lydia’s tirade.

“What?” Lydia said, looking in the direction of the ghosts. “What?”

“Can you see them?” Isolde said to Andie.

“Yes. Tell them to go.”

May laughed.

It’ll take more than that to get rid of them, she said. And you need me.

“No,” Andie said to her, and then realized the whole table was watching her. “I can see her,” she told them. “I can see all three of them, but two of them are…”

Dennis frowned in the direction she’d been staring, as if trying to see what she’d seen.

“Just energy,” Isolde said. “Harold says there’s not much there of two of them, just need. The other one, she’s still got some life in her. Literally.”

Damn straight, May said, and twirled around again, and Dennis leaned forward, squinting.

“What the hell is going on here?” Lydia snapped, and all three ghosts seemed to grow a little more defined.

“Anger,” Isolde said. “Get that woman out of here or we’re in trouble.”

Andie stood up. “Come on, Lydia.”

“Not until I’ve-”

There was a knocking sound, and Andie said, “I’ll get it,” and all but shoved Lydia out of the room. “Wait here,” she said when they were in the entry hall, “do not go back in there.”

Then she went to savage whatever idiot was screwing with her séance now, but when she opened the door, it was North, tall and strong and calm. She said, “Oh, thank God,” as he stepped in, put her arms around him, buried her face in his wet overcoat, and said, “Save me.”

She heard his overnight bag hit the stone floor as his arms went around her, and he felt so good that she held on longer than was polite. He said, “That bad?” and when she looked up, he was smiling down at her, just like the old days, and she lost her breath because it was him, holding her again.

Then Lydia said, “Well, it’s about time you got here,” and Andie stepped back as he let go of her.

“Hello, Mother,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“It’s a damn good thing you came to your senses,” Lydia said. “These people have all lost their minds. They’re having a séance with that O’Keefe woman in the room.”

“A séance?” North said, looking at Andie as he took his coat off.

Andie took the coat and put it on the hall tree, trying to get her breath back while she figured out how to tell him that she believed in ghosts in front of his mother.

“It’s over now,” Lydia said. “I went back in and the woman who was running it said I’d brought too much anger into the room, and it was strengthening the spirits.”

“They like being bullied, do they?” North said, and then Andie saw Crumb come into the entrance hall from the living room, wearing her violently orange-flowered apron and a furious expression.

Andie leaned up and whispered in the direction of North’s ear, “I fired Crumb this morning. Also, remember, we’re still married.”

“There goes the nightly blow job,” North said under his breath and crocodile-smiled past her. “Mrs. Crumb. So sorry you’re leaving us.”

“No we’re not,” Andie said.

“I heard the knocking,” Crumb snapped. “We wasn’t expecting any of you. Four people last night and now this. You need me to take care of this mess.”

“You can discuss that with…” North looked down at Andie. “Mrs. Archer.” He gestured to Lydia. “This is my mother, Mrs. Archer. The other Mrs. Archer.”

“What other Mrs. Archer?” Lydia said.

“How many more are there?” Crumb said to Andie, ignoring them all.

“How many Mrs… Oh, how many guests?” Andie did a fast count in her head. “Four more.”

“We only got two more bedrooms. ’Course Mr. Archer will be in with you.”

“What?” Lydia said, and North looked at her, and she shut up. “Fine.” She looked at Andie and then at North and then went back into the Great Hall.

Okay, North’s sleeping in my room, Andie thought, no, May’s room. She’ll like that. It doesn’t matter since I’m sleeping in the nursery with Alice. “Of course he’ll sleep in my room,” she said to Crumb, and North looked interested but didn’t say anything.

Crumb folded her arms. “I don’t know what that is to me. I been fired.”

“Good point,” Andie said. “Leave.”

“Well, now,” Crumb began, and then Southie came into the hall, saw Crumb, and said, “For the love of God, woman, get us drinks.”

Crumb looked at Andie, and Andie said, “Fine, we’ll talk about it later.”

The housekeeper smiled, triumphant, and said, “You’re going to have to share a room, Mr. Sullivan,” and went off to shift some guests.

Southie caught sight of North and came as close to a glare as Andie had ever seen from him. “How nice to see Mother,” he said to North.

“Don’t blame me.” North looked at him without sympathy. “I told you not to come here.”

“The Beast of the Nightly News had him,” Andie told North, trying to find her way back to sanity. There were ghosts, but North was there. It might even out, especially if she threw herself at him again, and distinct possibility given the way her mind was going south just from his sheer proximity. “Southie was helpless in her clutches. She truly is a blot on humanity.”

“Excellent,” North said, looking down at her with that beautiful, serious face. “Mother’s been spoiling for a fight. Let her have the Blot. You take me someplace, give me a drink, and tell me what the hell is going on.”

Yes, Andie thought, but she said, “I think we’d better go in with the Blot. “I’m not sure your mother can take her.”

“Nonsense. A good stake through the heart and she’s done.” North looked at Southie. “I beg your pardon, Sullivan, I should have asked. Do you love this woman?”

“God, no,” Southie said.

“Then let Mother have her.” He smiled down at Andie again. “And in the meantime, you can tell me what’s happening. It can’t be nearly as bad as you sounded.”

“It’s worse,” Southie said. “We-”

“Southie,” North said. “Go away.”

“What?” Southie blinked at him. “Oh. Right. Sure.”

He went back into the Great Hall, and North looked down at her and said, “Where were we?”