“I’ll be playing Mom’s part tonight,” I said, effortlessly tying the coarse strings around my waist.
Melissa’s face contorted in brief confusion, swiftly replaced by smug triumph. She turned on her heel to light the candles, completely satisfied that the hired help had fallen in line. She was too arrogant to realize that the person pouring the drinks hears every single whisper at the table. Invisible is the most powerful vantage point in any room.
At 6:30 p.m. sharp, the doorbell chimed. Six women filed in, including June Aldrich, who shot me a conspiratorial wink as I took her coat.
Melissa immediately launched into her grand, rehearsed tour. “We bought at exactly the right time in the market,” she bragged loudly. “Six hundred thousand. Derek has such incredible vision for the expansion. We’re tearing out those old, ugly rose bushes for a sunken fire pit.”
One of the church ladies smiled nervously. “I always see Derek’s mother out front watering those roses. Does she live with you?”
Melissa unleashed a tinkling, practiced laugh. “Oh, yes. We took Ellen in. She loves helping out around the house. It keeps her young! She’s practically family staff.”
Family staff.
June Aldrich set her teacup down with a sharp clatter, staring at Melissa with undisguised revulsion. Sandra, three glasses deep into the Pinot Grigio, doubled down. “Family looks after family. We took Ellen in when she had nowhere else to go. That’s just how we were raised.”
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