Two
“Oh, good, Meredith,” my stepmother said, looking up from the broad mahogany dining table with a thin smile. Celestine Brixton—now Hallowell—had only been my stepmother for two weeks, but she’d dated my father for three years before that. I knew exactly what she was going for from the moment she beckoned our household manager to the table.
The serving staff had just laid out our dinner plates. The meaty smell of my roast beef in its pool of gravy filled my nose. It was a strange time to call any of the family employees in for a chat. But right now those employees should also have been taking their dinner, and no doubt my stepmother wanted to remind Meredith that while the manager ordered around the lower staff, the lady of the house ordered around the manager.
Celestine paused to st
