“Anyway, just so you know, we don’t talk about Mama’s condition to Robert. He’s mentioned putting her in a nursing home several times, and if he knew just how really bad off she was…” Her voice trailed away, and after a moment, she shook her head. “What Mama needs is to be with family, not stuck away in some home.”
Emily’s eyes suddenly twinkled and a tiny smile pulled at her lips. “I love Mama, but sometimes she says the most outrageous, off-the-wall things. Just says whatever pops into her head without regard for anyone else. But that’s what I love the most about her.”
Suddenly Emily sobered, and a horrified expression crossed her face. “Oh, Charlotte, I’m so sorry. Here I am going on and on, keeping you from your work.”
Before Charlotte had a chance to say anything, Emily backed toward the door. “I’ll just get out of your way now, but just remember, please don’t mention Mama’s little idiosyncrasies to Robert.” Then she turned and fled the room.
Back in the kitchen, Charlotte loaded the dirty dishes from Sophia’s breakfast into the dishwasher, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Emily’s face when she’d apologized. Charlotte finally concluded that Emily’s panicky reaction had nothing to do with interrupting her. More than likely, Emily had panicked because she’d suddenly realized that she’d said too much. She’d revealed more about her family than she had intended.
How sad, Charlotte thought as she headed upstairs to strip the sheets off of the beds. Unlike Sophia, who was spunky and said what she thought, poor Emily was cowed and afraid of her shadow—classic signs of an abused woman.
By midmorning Charlotte had washed the bedsheets, put them in the dryer, and washed a load of towels and washcloths. She’d cleaned the upstairs bathrooms, dusted and straightened the bedrooms, and all she had left to do upstairs was make up the beds and vacuum.
She was taking the sheets and pillowcases out of the dryer in the laundry room when she heard voices in the kitchen. With her arms full of clean bedding, she passed through the kitchen on her way upstairs. Two men were seated at the breakfast table with Emily. On the table were several sheets of what appeared to be a list of some kind.
All three looked up when Charlotte entered the room, and Emily smiled. “Oh, Charlotte, wait a minute.” When Charlotte stopped, Emily motioned for her to come closer. “I want you to meet Mario and Tony—Robert’s brothers.”
Charlotte stepped closer and nodded at the two men. Both had dark hair, dark eyes, and looked to be in their mid-thirties.
“Nice to meet’cha,” the one named Mario said. Then he returned to studying the list on the table. The other brother, Tony, gave her a curt nod, then he too returned his attention to the list.
“We’re going over the guest list for the party,” Emily explained. “It looks like just about everyone that was invited is going to show up.”
The brother named Tony glanced up and gave Emily a frustrated look. “Em, there’s no reason for the maid to worry about the guest list.”
When Emily’s cheeks darkened with embarrassment, Charlotte decided to save the poor woman the trouble of apologizing…again. “Guess I’d better get busy,” Charlotte told them. “Nice meeting y’all.”
By midafternoon, Charlotte was back in the laundry room folding the towels and washcloths. So many people had been in and out all day that she ignored the sound of the back door opening and closing.
“Who are you?”
Charlotte jumped at the unexpected question, and when she whirled around, a young girl who looked to be around thirteen or fourteen and a boy who was probably a bit younger were standing in the doorway.
“I’m Charlotte, with the maid service,” she told the girl. “And who are you?” she asked even though she already knew from the framed photos scattered throughout the house that they were the Rossis’ children.
“I’m Amanda Rossi, and this is my brother, Brandon. So what happened to Jennifer, the other maid?”
Charlotte smiled. “Your mother said that Jennifer had a family emergency to take care of.”
For several moments more, both children stared at Charlotte, then, without a word, they both turned and headed for the kitchen.
“She’s older than Jennifer,” Charlotte heard Brandon tell his sister. “I wonder if Daddy knows yet. If he don’t, he’s gonna be mad.”
Unease crawled through Charlotte. Did Robert Rossi know that his wife had hired her, or had Emily done so on her own? Surely he did.
“Daddy’s always mad about something,” Amanda retorted. “I hate him.”
“He is not always mad. You’re just being mean.”
“Is too always mad. And he’s the one who’s mean, especially to Mama.”
“Is not!”
“Is too!” Amanda argued. “And I’m going to kill him just like he killed Papa, if he hurts Mama again.”
In the laundry room Charlotte stiffened with shock and a suffocating sensation tightened her throat. He killed Papa…hurts Mama again. Out of the mouths of babes. Charlotte shivered. The courts couldn’t convict Robert, but courts made mistakes. And Emily…At least now she knew the reason that Emily’s makeup was heavier on one side of her face.
Even so, Charlotte tried telling herself that all teenagers, at one time or another, hated their parents and spoke out of turn. But not all teenagers threaten to kill a parent.
“You’re a liar!” Brandon shouted. “And I’m gonna tell Daddy what you said.”
“If you know what’s good for you you’ll keep your mouth shut, you little brat.”
Since no one else seemed to be paying attention, Charlotte decided that she’d better break up the fight before one or both decided to get physical.
“I’m gonna tell,” Brandon yelled defiantly.
Just as Charlotte stepped out of the laundry room, another voice interrupted the two squabbling children.
“And just what are you going to tell?” The voice was male, hard-edged with a cold, disapproving tone. “And what’s all the shouting about?” Several moments passed without a sound. “Well?” he demanded. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”
“Nothing, Daddy,” Amanda said meekly.
Charlotte halted in her tracks. Uh-oh. Daddy’s home.
“I didn’t ask you, Amanda. I asked your brother.”
Several more quiet moments passed before Brandon finally spoke up. “N-nothing, Daddy. We were just arguing over the cookies.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but she had to admire Brandon’s fast thinking.
“In case you two haven’t noticed, I have guests with me.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” Amanda mumbled.
“Sorry,” Brandon added.
“We’ll go to our rooms,” Amanda offered.
“Good idea,” her father said.
Charlotte stepped back into the laundry room. Ever since she had realized that Emily was married to Robert Rossi, she had dreaded coming face-to-face with the mobster. Since she now realized that there could be some doubt as to whether Robert knew that Emily had hired her, Charlotte dreaded it even more.
Charlotte eyed the basket of folded towels and washcloths and mentally went over the tasks still to be done.