“What couldn’t wait?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry.
She rubbed her hands over her arms. “Can we go someplace warmer? I need to thaw out.”
“I’ve got the fire going in the parlor.” I led the way, the dogs rolling and bouncing at my mother’s high heels.
Nola rushed over to embrace Ginette. The two had a tight bond, something I was grateful for despite the fact that sometimes I felt they were ganging up on me. Or laughing at me. Jack had maintained a bland expression when I asked if he’d noticed it, and we’d finally agreed that it must be postpartum hormones that made me see things a little skewed.
“Awesome shoes, Ginette,” Nola enthused. “Maybe I can borrow them for a date or something?”
Ginette smiled. “Of course—just ask me anytime. My closet is yours.”
I looked down at my fluffy pink slippers, trying to ignore my feet that were still throbbing in memory of the beating they’d sustained earlier in the day. “How long did it take for the swelling in your body and feet to subside after you gave birth to me?”
She and Nola exchanged a glance—I was pretty sure that wasn’t my hormones imagining it—before my mother turned back to me. “I don’t really think I . . . swelled very much. I was wearing my old clothes and shoes by the time you were a month old. But you had twins,” she added quickly. “And you are much older than I was, so that changes the equation drastically, I would think.”
My mother and Nola nodded in unison, and again I had the subtle feeling that they knew something I didn’t.
Nola went back to the desk and I indicated for Ginette to take one of the stuffed armchairs by the fire while I took the other one. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Your father’s waiting for me at home, so I’ll be brief. Have you spoken with your cousin Rebecca?”
Nola let out a groan at the mention of Rebecca’s name. I remembered the pink slip I’d received that morning at work, and had promptly discarded and forgotten. “She left a message for me, but I didn’t call her back. It was a Monday and my first day back at work, and having to talk with Rebecca would have probably sent me over the edge.” I leaned forward. “Why?”
“Well, she called me when she couldn’t get ahold of you.” The fire crackled, and she turned her gaze toward the flames. “She’s been having dreams.”
I briefly closed my eyes, seeing the orange and yellow flames imprinted on the insides of my eyelids. “Dreams?”
Rebecca, a very distant cousin, had also apparently inherited her sixth sense, except her psychic ability exhibited itself in her dreams. She wasn’t always accurate with her interpretations, but usually accurate enough to be alarming.
My mother nodded without looking at me. “She sees a young girl in a white nightgown, and she’s banging on a wall.” She faced me again and I saw the reflection of the fire in her green eyes. “Except she’s banging on the inside of the wall.”
I sat back and glanced over at Nola, who’d stopped typing on her laptop and wasn’t even pretending not to be listening. “Why does Rebecca think it has anything to do with me? If there was something inside one of these walls, I would know about it.”
Ginette rubbed her leather-gloved hands together, the sound unnerving. “Because the girl was calling your name. And it doesn’t necessarily mean this house, either.”
I looked grimly back at my mother. “I haven’t had any experiences in almost a year—so I don’t know who that could be. Except . . .” I stopped, remembering the newly exposed cistern and the footsteps following me across the garden.
“Except?” Ginette raised an elegant eyebrow.
“We’ve discovered a cistern in the backyard. But it’s all bricks—no walls. I don’t think they’re connected. Maybe there’s another Melanie.”
My mother stared back at me unblinkingly. “Regardless, you should call Rebecca and thank her. I know you don’t get along, but she’s still family.”
Nola made a gagging noise, then pretended to cough.
“I will. And since you’re here, I’ve got some good news to share. I think I’ve found a nanny. She has to pass inspection with everybody here first, of course, and I’m going to ask Detective Riley for a background check, but I have a good feeling about her. We share the same views on child-rearing at least.”
“That’s wonderful news! Not that I don’t mind babysitting, but it will be nice for you all to have a regular routine and for the children to have consistent caregiving. I’m afraid Amelia and I are too much the doting grandmothers and err on the side of spoiling them.”
I didn’t protest or attempt to correct her, because she was absolutely right. And that was one of the reasons I needed a nanny. “Yes, well, her name’s Jayne Smith and she walked into my office today to ask for my help in selling a house she’s inherited and buying a new one, and it just so happens that she’s a professional nanny.”
“How lucky—for both of you.”