“If only Rayne and Hadley were here, too. I hope they’re okay,” Felix said.
“Maybe they got back sooner?” Maisie said.
Felix brightened slightly at that notion. But he deflated just as quickly.
“No,” he said, thinking out loud. “If they were back, Great-Uncle Thorne would have seen them. He would have known.”
Maisie and Felix let this information settle in.
“So they’re still in the Congo,” Maisie said hopefully.
“Let’s figure out what to do next,” Felix said, taking James Ferocious’s leash and walking toward the door.
“Wait until Mom sees that we brought a dog home,” Maisie said.
“A dog that needs surgery,” Felix reminded her.
“I think Great-Uncle Thorne will be so impressed by our ingenuity that he’ll pay for the operation,” Maisie said.
They walked out of The Treasure Chest, leading James Ferocious down the stairway and out into the hall, where to their surprise they walked right into their father.
“Dad!” Maisie shrieked.
Felix stared at his father, taking in his curly hair and his hands speckled with paint.
“What are you doing at Elm Medona?” Felix asked him.
Their father pointed at James Ferocious.
“What are you doing with a dog?” he asked.
“We . . . rescued him,” Maisie said.
“Your mother let you have a dog?” their father said in disbelief.
“She doesn’t exactly know about him yet,” Felix admitted.
“His name is James Ferocious,” Maisie told her father. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
“He’s shaggy, that’s for sure,” he said, bending to pet the dog’s big head.
“But why are you here?” Felix asked again.
“To see you two,” their father said. “And to talk to your mother,” he added.
“She’s been kind of upset,” Maisie told him.
“I know.”
“She doesn’t want you to marry Agatha the Great,” Felix said softly.
“Agatha the Great?” his father repeated.
“Oops,” Felix said, turning red.
“The thing is,” their father went on, “as it turns out, I’m not going to marry Agatha. The Great,” he added with a small smile.
“You’re not?” Maisie said, half disappointed and half relieved.
“Why did you change your mind?” Felix asked.
“I didn’t. She did.”
“How could she?” Maisie said in disbelief. “You’re the best!”
Their father sighed. “I think it all happened too fast. The divorce and the move and Agatha and me.”
“Does Mom know?” Felix asked.
He shook his head. “She’s not home.”
“Let’s go downstairs and you can make us some normal food,” Felix said. “Everything here is French.”
“Happily,” their father said.
Happily, Maisie thought. She liked the way that word sounded.
They were sitting in the Library eating grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup when their mother got home. Their father made the best grilled cheese sandwiches in the world—extra buttery and extra gooey. He also made the best tomato soup, even though it came from a can. Instead of water, he made it with milk, and he added celery salt as his secret ingredient. Comfort food, he always called grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup. Maisie wondered if her father needed comfort, if Agatha the Great had broken his heart.
The good news was that he was going to move back to New York City, anyway.
“So maybe you guys can come down every other weekend,” he told them.
“That sounds nice,” Felix said.
But Maisie had another thought. Maybe their father would marry their mother all over again. She didn’t know for certain, but she bet that happened sometimes. People got divorced and then realized the error they’d made.
“I smell a dog!” their mother called from the hallway.
“How could she?” Maisie wondered out loud.
“A wet dog,” their mother said as she came into the Library.
She looked at James Ferocious. “A very big, wet dog,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
Then she noticed their father sitting there, a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich in his hand.
“And what are you doing here?” she said, flustered. “Shouldn’t you be getting married or something?”
“That’s an interesting story,” their father said.
“Really? I’d love to hear it,” their mother said, flopping onto one of the Moroccan leather sofas.
James Ferocious plodded over to her and dropped his shaggy head into her lap.
“Ugh!” she said. “Wet dog.”
But she didn’t make him move, which Maisie took as a very good sign.
“Maybe we could speak privately?” their father said.
Before their mother could answer, they heard the tap of Great-Uncle Thorne’s walking stick coming down the hall.
He marched in the room and stood glaring at first Maisie, then Felix, then their mother, then their father, and finally at James Ferocious.
“Where are the Ziff twins?” he boomed. “Still not back?”
“I . . . that is to say . . . we . . . ,” Felix stammered.