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Page 170
her of neighborhoods in Pennsylvania towns of her time. Jess's gray stone home was set behind a vine-covered brick wall. It was smaller than Mike's house, its feel of wealth more sophisticated.
The bright sun of early afternoon slanted in Abby's eyes as Mike parked in the circular drive. She worried that he had not gone straight home to rest after his mishap that morning, but he claimed to feel fine.
He opened the front door with a key. "Hello," he called. "Anyone home?"
A tall, portly woman in a black dress waddled down the front hall. "Well, Michael Danziger. It's about time you came for a visit. Your aunt asks about you all the time."
Mike introduced Abby to the woman, whose name was Grace. She had dark hair mottled with patches of white, a nose resembling the beak of a talking parrot Abby had once seen in a traveling circus, and a brief, damp handshake.
Mike managed a quick, wry smile. "If I came more often, you'd complain I was a bother," he said.
"Maybe," Grace grumbled. She turned her back. "Come on. She's waiting."
As they followed, Mike whispered, "Don't mind Grace. She used to terrorize me even when I visited here as a kid. For a housekeeper, she thinks she's queen, princess, and first lady all rolled into one."
Grace led them down the long center hall and through a glass-paneled door into a room

 
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