used the night her father walked out on them.
Iâm going away , her father had said. I canât take any more of this.
She stopped whining.
âSweetheart,â David was saying, âbelieve me, if I didnât feel it was urgent, I wouldnât go.â
âItâs okay, David,â Liz forced herself to say. âI understand.â
âDo you?â
âYes. Iâm disappointed that you wonât be here for me to get to know Huntington House, but I do understand. Itâs very important that you show your father that you can handle situations like these.â
âThatâs my girl,â David said, cupping her chin in his palm.
Liz didnât like it when he called her a girl. It felt patronizing. But for the moment she let it slide. Better to have him patronizing her than considering leaving her.
Liz was fully aware that she had some serious codependency issues to work through. Nicki was always informing her of the fact. âSweetheart,â Nicki would say, âyou better work through that codependency stuff or youâll never have a satisfying relationship.â One time, somewhere between Gibraltar and Corsica, Nicki had been particularly adamant, giving Liz a long list of relationship dos and donâts.
Liz had laughed. They had been drinking wine on the quarterdeck. âIf youâre such an expert on relationships, how come youâre not in one?â
âBecause Iâm in the middle of a cruise, baby,â Nicki replied, âand Iâm just having fun. But someday, when weâre back on dry land, I intend on settling down. And Iâm going to do it right. None of this letting the man set the terms.â
But Liz knew that was exactly what she had done with David. She had allowed him to make all the decisions about when they got married, where they would live, what their household would look like. It had been hard to say no to the promise of Huntington House, of course. Liz couldnât deny being intrigued by the idea of all that land, all those rooms, all those servants. Growing up as she had, with a mother always struggling to pay the bills, Liz had been a bit dazzled by Davidâs descriptions of his estate.
He was packing now. Liz watched him with a sinking heart.
âOh, but David, I donât know any of the details of running this house. Like preparing grocery lists and menus and coordinating the staff . . . I donât know any of that yet.â
âThatâs what Mrs. Hoffman is for, sweetheart. You donât have to trouble your mind with any of those details. You just relax and explore the estate. Have one of the chauffeurs drive you around town. Look for a property for your dance studio. Youâre going to need something to do with your time, baby.â
Liz wasnât all that keen on David calling her âbabyâ either. She wasnât a baby. She was a grown womanâhis wife. But it was just his way of showing affection.
David snapped his suitcase shut. âAnd Iâll be back in just six days, sweetheart. Not even a full week.â
He kissed her. Liz gave him a smile. This wasnât what she expected married life to be exactly, but she figured sheâd have to get used to it.
8
V ariola had seen many things in her day. Back in Haiti, before it had been devastated by the earthquake, she had watched as her mother had changed stones into flowers and healed little children of influenza with just a sprinkle of her special powders. When she was just seven years old, Variola had seen a dead man get up and walk. So nothing surprised Variola.
She was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the new Mrs. Huntington. The late Mrs. Huntington had been very particular about her meals. They had to be vegetarian and wheat-free and always topped with fresh raspberries. The late Mrs. Huntington had had other requests of Variola as well, and most of them had had nothing to do with her culinary