The arched oak door they stood before looked a little too stately for the aging brick rambler to which was mounted. Mara leaned to the right, looking for a doorbell, and, not finding one, leaned to the left. Behind her, Diana reached over Mara’s shoulder and banged the tarnished brass door knocker mounted directly in front of them.
“Why does Ned have a castle door installed on the front of a generic suburban home?” Mara asked.
Diana knitted her brow. “Don’t be rude. Ned thinks the arches give his home a more welcoming vibe, invites in the good spirits.”
“I forgot he’s one of your enlightened New Agey friends,” Mara said.
“How you turned out to be so judgmental is beyond me. Perhaps if I had spanked you as a child, you’d have learned to have more respect for other people’s beliefs. Just
