“The invitation was addressed to me and a guest. I could ask Detective Riley. Assuming I went.”
I snapped the white onesie with more concentration than it required. “Really, Jayne, if you want to go, then go. And I’m sure Thomas would love to be your guest.” I bit my lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. My cousin was a meddler, loving to create drama and to irritate me. Or maybe that was just her personality and she couldn’t help it.
“Well, if you’re sure. I don’t have many chances to dress up, so it could be fun. But only if you can find a sitter. If you can’t, just tell me and I’ll stay home with the twins.” She hoisted a fully dressed JJ on her hip and he smiled at her. She looked at me while I was fumbling on my third attempt to snap the one hundred or so buttons on the front of Sarah’s one-piece outfit, just realizing now that I was nearing the end that I’d missed the third button and would need to start all over. Or leave it as it was and let people think she’d dressed herself.
“Why don’t we trade?” Jayne suggested.
I nodded with resignation and reached out for JJ, then switched places with Jayne. “We’d better let the expert handle this, I guess.”
“No,” said Jayne. “I’m not the expert. I’m the nanny and you’re the mother. I wouldn’t call either one of us an expert, but that’s not what we’re going for, is it?”
“I guess not,” I said with an unforced smile.
Jayne focused on refastening Sarah’s outfit while I watched her. I knew from Thomas’s background check that she was about ten years younger than I was, yet she seemed so much older. Or more mature, I thought. She was a great nanny, terrific with the children and dogs, Nola, and just about anybody we put in her path. Except maybe Thomas, but he didn’t count. She was kind, and funny, and—remembering her set-down of Rebecca at the lingerie shop—very astute and not the kind of person to be walked over. I liked her, I supposed. Really liked her, although it was hard to admit even to myself. I wondered if my own insecurities would ever stop interfering with my relationships.
“It’s your turn,” she said, lifting a fully dressed Sarah. I glanced over at the little hairbrush and untouched bows on the dresser, torn between putting them in myself and waiting for Jayne to do it. Sarah hated them, but I kept telling Jack that it was just a matter of Sarah getting used to them. He’d said that the more I pushed, the more she’d resist, having inherited a certain amount of stubbornness from her mother. I hadn’t spoken to him for the rest of the day, not because I thought he was completely off base, but because I was afraid he was right.
I sat down again, bouncing JJ on my knee and enjoying listening to him chortle. “I’m meeting Jack’s mother, Amelia, at the Pinckney house later this morning. She owns an antiques store on King Street and knows quite a bit about old furniture and decorative accessories. I suggested she come look and see what’s there, to give you a general idea of value. To maybe even help you decide what you might want to keep, or even auction separately. You’ll get more that way than if you sell the contents with the house.”
“You don’t need me for that, do you?” Her eyes were round and wary and oddly familiar to me.
“No, I suppose not. Although it would make things go faster if you could tell her right off the bat what you don’t want to keep. Like that hideous rose china set in the butler’s pantry.”
“How did you know I hated that?”
“Didn’t you say so?” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s just because I thought it was ugly that I couldn’t imagine you not agreeing.” I looked at her for a moment. “And there’s another thing, too. Sophie thinks you should come look at the attic. Apparently, it was the bedroom for the little girl who died—Button’s niece. According to Sophie, it’s rather . . . extraordinary. She doesn’t think she should be the one to determine what to do with it.”
“Have you seen it?”
I shook my head, remembering the screaming doll and the slamming door. “I was in a rush last time I was there and didn’t have the chance. But I thought today would be a good time for us to head over there. Jack’s home and said he’d be happy to watch the children. I think he’s procrastinating—I think that’s what writers do with most of their time anyway, so it’s not like we’ll be taking him away from his work.”
She smoothed Sarah’s hair behind her ears, the bows apparently forgotten. I closed my eyes and sniffed JJ’s head until the irritation passed.
“How long do you think it would take?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t think more than an hour. I’ll treat you to a pastry from Ruth’s Bakery afterward as a reward.”
She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “I do love her bacon and chocolate cupcakes.”
I swallowed at the thought, embarrassed to find myself salivating. It had been too long since I’d had anything that resembled sugar. “I haven’t tried those yet. I’ll split one with you.”
She frowned.