From deep in the house came Bandit’s yelps. Delia insisted the dog be kept confined to the servants’ workroom, but he’d obviously heard Sam and was trying to get out. What a terrible mess! These visits to Andrew and Delia’s house were always difficult, but this was simply awful.
Andrew stomped down the hallway, slamming doors and yelling orders at the servants. Soon he came back to the parlor, leading Bandit by the leash.
“Say good-bye to your dog, boy. If you can’t be trusted to handle a school test, you can’t be responsible for a dog.”
“No!” Sam said as he sprang away from Delia. His crying stopped, replaced with a white look of fear. “Please don’t take Bandit away again.”
“You should have thought of that before you cheated. You won’t be seeing Bandit again.”
Andrew led the dog down the front hall, but Marianne couldn’t believe he truly meant to give the dog away. He was probably just taking him down to their parents’ house, which was fine. She wouldn’t mind looking after Bandit until Sam’s punishment was over.
“Calm down, calm down,” Delia shushed Sam. She used a lacy handkerchief to blot his tears, then held it to his nose. “Blow,” she coaxed. With Andrew gone, Delia proceeded to mother Sam the way she usually did when her husband wasn’t there. “Now, tell me what happened and why you had to cheat on that test.”
Marianne met Vera’s eyes. She fully expected Delia to find some way to blame Sam’s transgression on the teacher or perhaps even the school itself. Sam tearfully admitted he didn’t understand how to add fractions because the teacher didn’t teach it very well, and lots of students in his class cheated. By the time Andrew returned a few minutes later, Delia was fully armed to defend her son.
“Apparently the whole class was cheating, but Sam was the only one singled out for punishment,” she told Andrew, who was in no mood to hear it. He demanded Delia follow him to his study to discuss it in private, which was a good thing, because Sam shouldn’t hear his mother defend the indefensible.
It was hard to continue planning Andrew’s birthday party after the blowup, especially since Delia remained sequestered in the study while a muffled argument could be overheard. Marianne and Vera didn’t have enough insight to discuss the guest list, but they walked through the main floor of the house and considered ideas for decorating. Everything in the mansion was already so lavishly ornamented, it was hard to think of ways to make it look even more festive.
Dinner was a somber affair. They dined at Andrew’s house, and her father carried the bulk of the conversation because Andrew was still silently fuming. Sam wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes and barely touched his food. After dinner, the grown-ups went to the parlor to enjoy a late-night cordial, but Sam retreated upstairs.
Marianne gave in to temptation and followed, softly tapping on his closed bedroom door.
Sam tore it open a moment later, hope on his face, but it vanished when he saw her. “Oh,” he said, his shoulders drooping. “I thought Papa was back with Bandit.”
She followed him inside and sat on the edge of his bed. “I think Bandit will be staying at our house for a while.”
“Can you get him back?” he pleaded. “Please, Aunt Marianne. I promise I won’t ever cheat again. I won’t be a mailman. I’ll study hard and work in Papa’s office and be part of the family dynasty. Just please help me get Bandit back.”
She ruffled his hair and gave him a reassuring smile. She couldn’t make any promises, nor was she going to undermine Andrew’s decisions in this matter. She just wished she came from a normal family where harsh punishments and raging tantrums were not standard fare.
Maybe someday she would have such a family, but she was learning that constantly seeking appeasement carried its own set of problems.
Marianne was surprised not to see Bandit when she returned home that evening. Her father merely shrugged off her questions about the dog, and all Vera could do was complain about how Delia had mishandled the situation.
“No wonder that boy is growing up weak-willed,” she said. “I certainly hope Andrew puts his foot down.”
“No fear of that,” Clyde said as he continued smoking a cheroot, perusing the evening newspaper.
Her grandfather sat in the corner of the parlor, whittling a block of wood. At eighty years of age, Jedidiah had turned over management of the food company to his son and grandson. He now lived with Clyde in a mansion that was a far cry from the cabin with a dirt floor where he’d been born, but her grandfather had never lost the backwoods twang in his accent.
“Andrew’s too hard and Delia’s too soft,” Jedidiah said. “No wonder the boy is a little screwy.”
That triggered another round of discussion about Delia’s shortcomings, since no one was allowed to say a critical word about Andrew. Soon responsibility for Sam’s cheating had been entirely ascribed to Delia’s failings as a mother, and Marianne would rather do anything than continue this discussion.
“How was your day at Magruder Food?” she asked Clyde, eager to divert the topic.
Clyde folded up the newspaper and flashed her a delighted grin. “Fabulous! Andrew is learning quickly and rolling out a new process for pickling cucumbers. It should cut production time in half and earn a pretty penny once it’s implemented.”
It wouldn’t have happened without Clyde’s mentorship. Andrew followed in lockstep behind her father, and maybe that was for the best. There certainly hadn’t been any changes in their position on artificial fillers or chemical preservatives under Andrew’s leadership. What if Luke was right? Could Andrew ever develop the fortitude to change the direction of the company?
Her attention began to wander. If Luke had his way, her father’s political career would come to an end in November, and that would be terrible. She could never forgive Luke if he wantonly destroyed her father’s career, for she owed Clyde Magruder the world. What other man would take an illegitimate child into his home and lavish her with as much affection as Clyde had done?
Vera turned in early. Spending time with Delia always wore her out, but particularly so today, considering the uproar over Sam. Her father retreated into his study to deal with paperwork, and Marianne pounced on the opportunity to coax her grandfather into a late evening stroll.
The crickets chirped as they set out down the slate pathway toward the street. She loved this walk beneath the spreading oak trees. The homes on this street were so stately, with their manicured lawns and the lights glowing inside the windows. It made it look like happy families lived inside.
“Fine night for a stroll,” Jedidiah said. “Anything to escape the catawampus at Andrew’s house. And we ain’t heard the end of it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I done told you,” Jedidiah said. “Andrew is too hard with the boy, and Delia is too soft. It ain’t going to end well.”
Something about his ominous tone made her suspect he knew something. Jedidiah had been home all day and might have more insight into what went on this afternoon. Many of the homes had their windows open, so she waited until they passed Andrew and Delia’s house to broach her question.
“Where is Bandit?” she asked, watching her grandfather carefully.