The Guests on South Battery (Tradd Street #5)(37)

“It hasn’t been a full day yet, but Jack said I should rest it as long as I could and to keep it on at least until tomorrow morning. I think he was just looking for an excuse to play with the children.”

“Probably,” I said, my lips feeling brittle.

“I guess since all the heavy lifting is done I’ll go take my shower and then we’ll go see Yvonne.” Without warning, he kissed me on the cheek and left.

“You forgot your shirt,” I called after him.

“I’ll put it in the laundry chute,” Jayne offered.

Sarah clambered off her lap, then crawled to a corner of the rug where the large, chunky Duplo blocks had been snapped together to make what resembled a house, complete with a roof, two chimneys, and a front porch that looked as if a chubby fist had taken out a chunk. I noticed that she and JJ were in matching outfits—if you considered white onesies and diapers outfits. She picked up a Duplo girl with yellow hair and began to pound it against the side of the house.

I waited for Jayne to tell Sarah that people used doors, but she didn’t say anything, preferring to study her as if my daughter were an anthropological experiment. With a frown, I squatted down next to Sarah and looked into her sweet face that at the moment was scowling at me. “Sweetheart, people use doors to go inside the house.”

“Uhhh,” she grunted as she resumed banging the poor plastic girl against the fluorescent yellow wall.

In a gentle voice, I said, “Sarah, can I please have the little girl?”

She continued to hammer the girl against the house like a weapon, ignoring me. Jayne placed JJ on the floor, then knelt in front of Sarah. “She’s been doing this all day—it’s like she’s made up her mind that girls going through walls is the right way.” Jayne held out her hand. “May I please have the girl? I’ll put her to bed inside so that she’s all rested for tomorrow.”

Sarah solemnly dropped the toy into Jayne’s outstretched palm. With an apologetic glance at me, Jayne said, “Like I said, we’ve been doing this all day. She has a very firm belief in the way things should be.”

“I wonder where she gets that from,” I said, curious as to which branch of Jack’s tree that particular trait might have fallen out of. I thought of his parents and figured it had to go further back than that.

Jayne was looking at me oddly. “Yeah. I wonder. So, Melanie, could I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I said, hoping she was about to suggest replacing the furniture where it had been.

“I don’t want to go back to that house on South Battery until it’s fully renovated. I find it . . . unsettling.”

I struggled to keep my expression neutral. “All right. I understand. You did tell me that you didn’t like old houses, so I’m not surprised. Are you saying you changed your mind about keeping it?”

She shook her head. “No. I agreed to keep the house for now out of respect for Miss Pinckney’s wishes and to see if the house’s aura changes any with the renovations. But she didn’t say I had to live in it. For now, I really have no desire to cross the threshold in the foreseeable future.”

I hoped she didn’t see my relief. “That’s not a problem. I spoke with Sophie today and she’ll be happy to lead the restoration, determine if any grants might be available, and if she can use parts of the work as curriculum. She’ll figure out the numbers so she can discuss them with you, and any major decisions will have to be signed off by you. I’m sure for the sheer happiness of working on the house she won’t mind being in charge.”

“What about the doll?”

I shuddered, remembering the doll standing by the opened attic door. “Sophie spoke with her friend the doll expert and he’s eager to take a look. He’s stopping by tomorrow to pick it up and says it will take a few weeks before he can get back to us.”

“Tell him to take as long as he needs.”

I smiled. “Will do. Well, then, we’ll see you in a couple of hours. Hopefully we’ll find something in the archives that will tell us more about the house. Maybe even something about the family.”

I kissed the children good-bye, then turned toward the door. Jayne called me back.

“Melanie?”

“Yes?”

“Nola’s friend—Lindsey. Do you know her well?”

I shook my head. “I met her the first time when you did. She says her mother and I went to college together—I don’t remember her. I need to pull out my yearbook to see if I recognize her. Why?”

JJ reached his arms to be picked up again and Jayne lifted him, her eyes focused on his little face. I couldn’t help wondering if she was using him as a reason to avoid eye contact with me.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s just, well, you know how some people seem . . . haunted?”

“A little,” I said, glad her focus was on JJ.

“Well, that’s the sense I get from her. As if she’s being dogged by something.”

“Because she brought the Ouija board?”

“No,” Jayne said, finally looking at me. “I think because she reminded me a little of myself when I was that age. All alone, even in a roomful of people.”

I nodded, unwilling to admit that I knew exactly what she was talking about. It hadn’t been that long ago that I’d felt the same way—before Jack, and before I’d reconciled with my mother and father. There was something about being raised with absent parents that made a permanent scar in a person’s psyche.