Noli put her tool-belt in her room, washed her face, then returned to the kitchen to clean up the mess. There wasn’t much for supper unless she made soup—which would take too long. She could make griddle cakes, but there wasn’t butter or syrup, only a little brown sugar.

Someone knocked on the front door. Her mother frowned. “Whoever could that be?”

She bustled off to answer it. Noli followed behind, peeking into the entryway, curious as to who’d come a-calling after dark. Not that anyone ever came a-calling.

“Papa, what are you doing here?” Unhappiness colored Mama’s voice.

Noli poked her head out so she could see. Grandfather Montgomery stood at the door, a shadowy figure in the low light, but still him, nevertheless. Panic whirled inside Noli like a dervish. If Jeff noticed the state of the house, Grandfather certainly would. They’d worked so hard to hide everything from him so he wouldn’t make them return to Boston forever.

“Why are you answering the door, Edwina? Are you expecting someone?” Disapproval at the impropriety of answering one’s own door dripped from Grandfather’s cultured voice.

“No, Papa. It’s … it’s only Noli and I. Please, come in. I’ve just made tea.” Mama cowered in front of him like a naughty little girl.

Theodore Montgomery, Noli’s grandfather, strode through the door, looking ever the gentleman in an evening coat and top hat. He surveyed the dark entryway with critical eyes and frowned. “You’re making your own tea and answering you own door? Why are there no lamps lit?” His nose wrinkled. “What is that smell—is something burning? Whatever are you wearing? For heaven’s sake, what is going on?”

Her mother stood there, face frozen in a look of total and utter terror.

“Good evening, Grandfather.” Noli forced herself into the room in an attempt to deflect the attention from her mother. “What brings you to Los Angeles?”

“Magnolia? My have you grown.” He gave her a hug. “Well, I think you’ve grown, I can’t see you in the dark. The new museum opened last night. Some of my friends are behind it and they invited me to their opening parties. Since my favorite girls live here, I thought I’d see the new art and you. It’s been ages since I’ve visited.”

“Oh, V was talking about the museum. Something about a collection of Dutch Golden Age paintings he’d like to see.” She grinned. V had a mild obsession with Dutch painters.

Grandfather nodded. “There are some very nice paintings there, as well as some lovely antiquities. I could do without the exhibit on faeries.” He made a face as if he’d eaten something bad. “Bah, why must grown men believe in such things? There is a rather beautiful gem, such an extraordinary color, even if it having once belonged to a faery queen is complete fable.”

“It’s probably a tale told to give a bit of pretty glass value,” Noli replied. Odds were that’s exactly what happened. Most of the artists and writers got the details about the Fae folk wrong, just like many of the artifacts “proving” their existence were fabrications.

“Here, let me take your hat and coat and I’ll light a lamp in the parlor.” Noli hung his hat and coat on the seldom used rack by the door. She walked into the parlor, which she always kept neat and mostly dust-free, just in case. Like everything else in the house it had seen better days. Noli lit a single gas lamp on the wall. Because, of the cost they mostly used candle lamps. Perhaps she’d start a fire in the seldom-used fire place. Wait, they had no wood.

Grandfather Montgomery looked around the dimly lit parlor and frowned.

“Have a seat, Grandfather. I’ll bring tea.” Noli put a hand on her mother’s arm in reassurance. Him arriving spontaneously and discovering the situation they’d so carefully hidden from him must devastate her.

Noli got the silver tea service out, hoping it wasn’t too tarnished and the good china. They had no cookies to put with the tea. She poured the last of the milk and the brown sugar into the proper containers and arraigned everything on the silver tray. Taking a deep breath, she carried the tray out to the sitting room, trying to smile like she was glad he’d come.

“Eady, please tell me your servants have the day off and my eyes are getting old.” Her grandfather’s voice was kind, concerned. “I’ve heard the most dreadful tales, that you and Noli are living alone and in poverty, and that you’ve actually taken up a trade. But I hadn’t believed it or I would’ve come sooner.”

Where would he hear such things? Then again, not everyone had the aversion to airships her mother did. Someone could have run into him at a party in Boston— or even while he was traveling on business. It wasn’t as if all of Los Angeles society didn’t know of their situation.

Noli set the tray on the low table. “I … I’ll leave so you may talk.”

Her mother’s hand caught her. She looked into Noli’s eyes. They said stay. Noli nodded and took a seat on the uncomfortable rose-covered settee, since her grandfather and mother occupied the two matching chairs. Everything in the room smelled faintly of disuse.

Mama, ever the lady, poured the tea. In the lamplight she looked older, rings around her usually jolly eyes, the faint wrinkles on her pale skin more pronounced, though she still looked beautiful. Like a fine lady. Yet tonight, even her chestnut waves looked duller in its simple coif.

“Is it that dreadful for a woman to have her own business?” Her mother handed grandfather a cup of tea.

“You’re a lady, not a woman. Also, owning it is one thing, actually engaging in the trade is something else.” He went to add sugar to his tea and frowned.

“I’m sorry, we’re out of white sugar,” Noli muttered. “Yes, I opened a shop. But it’s doing well.” Her mother added milk and sugar to her own tea. Noli gripped her dainty cup, not adding either.

Grandfather’s dark eyebrows rose, his hair the same color as her mother’s, with only a touch of gray, which added elegance. “Well? Eady, if your shop was doing well you wouldn’t be answering your own door in the dark and have no white sugar. How are you handling callers? Isn’t Noli of that age?”

Her mother’s cheeks pinked in two near-perfect circles, like on the doll Jeff had won her.

“We’re doing the best we can, and Noli’s going out into society and such. Yesterday she attended a tea.” She looked to Noli. “Was Missy Sassafras there? You really do need to get her recipe for scones. Food is the way to a man’s heart, you know.”

What was it with Missy Sassafras and her ridiculously superior scones? Noli would rather dine with the high queen of the Otherworld than engage in willing conversation with that social-climbing dollymop.

“I thought Jeff was supporting you?” Grandfather prodded. “That’s what you tell me every time I offer assistance.”

“Mama’s saving it for my dowry and the season,” Noli half-lied as she clutched her tea. “We’re planning on hiring a housekeeper. We just haven’t yet. Good help truly is hard to find.”

His eyes narrowed with an intensity that made her squirm. “Girls, don’t lie to me.”

“I’m sorry, Papa.” Mama drooped over her teacup. “We tried the best we could. I … I wanted to do things myself, and well, I kept hoping … ” Her eyes drifted to the photograph of Noli’s father hanging on the blue striped walls.

“I’m shocked, utterly and totally shocked—that not only would you hide this from me, and outright lie, but that you would allow yourself to live like this. You are a Montgomery, Eady. Have you no pride?” Grandfather clucked his tongue in disappointment and even Noli’s cheeks burned with shame.

Ironically pride was why her mother had hidden this from him.

“And what of your daughter? If all of Los Angeles society knows your plight, how do you expect her to marry befitting her station?” He gave her mother a look that had her writhing in her chair. His expression softened. “Oh, I see. That was why you mentioned coming to visit. Your mother would invite Noli to stay, she would accept, all would be well, and no one would be the wiser. Clever, clever girl.” He patted Mama on the knee. “You and I are far too much alike. But truly, I don’t appreciate you keeping things from me.”

“I … I’m sorry, Papa,” she sniffed, pulling out a lacy handkerchief and dabbing her eyes.

“Pack your bags, we’re leaving in the morning.” He sipped his tea and Noli could see that he tried to not make a face as he swallowed. It wasn’t very good tea, cheap and watered down.

“Papa, if I leave then Henry won’t know where to find me when he returns.” Her mother’s knuckles whitened as she clutched the delicate teacup so tightly Noli feared it might break.

“Eady … ” Grandfather gave Mama a gentle look. “It’s been nearly seven years. It’s time.”

Tears streamed down her mother’s face. “No, Henry’s coming back. He is.”

“He’ll look for you in Boston, Mama,” Noli soothed, remembering Jeff’s words and trying to be helpful. “It’s his home, too.”

“Noli, dear, is there any food in this place or do I need to get takeaway?” Grandfather asked. “I could take you out. How long has it been since you’ve had a nice supper?”

As nice as a good meal sounded, she couldn’t stomach the thought of putting on a fine dress and going out to places where people like her grandfather dined and making nice with all the fake people and gossips.

“There are a few places open this time of the evening for takeaway. I’ll help Mama pack.” It might be beneficial for her mother to return to Boston, to not have to worry so much.

“You should go pack your own things.” He smiled at her fondly. “If you forget anything, all you’ll have to do is smile and your grandmamma will buy you whatever you wish.”

Noli nearly dropped her teacup in her lap. “I’m going as well? But I don’t want to go to Boston.”

“Papa, we’re fine, truly,” her mother insisted.

“Balderdash. We are going to Boston tomorrow, all three of us. Noli, I can’t leave you here unchaperoned. This is not up for negotiation.” He held up a hand. “I’ll come up with a suitable story—no one needs to know about your situation.”

Mama sniffed into her crumpled handkerchief. “I’ve worked so hard.”

“Sometimes hard work and good intentions aren’t enough,” he soothed. “It is better for everyone this way, truly.” Grandfather stood. “Now, I am going to find something edible. You girls best get to packing.”

Mama appeared in the doorway of Noli’s room, a dark green dress in her arms. A dress meant for a Christmas ball V was supposed to accompany her to.

“Noli, pack this dress. It’s unfinished, but it will be gorgeous when I’m done.”

“I’m not going to Boston.” Noli flopped onto her bed, the room only illuminated by the single candle lamp on her desk. “You said we didn’t have to go.” It came out more pout than intelligent argument as she stared up at the ceiling.

Her mother laid the dress on the back of the desk chair and sat down on the bed. “I … I know. But what do you expect me to do, refuse?”

“Yes. You’re a grown and married woman. Tell Grandfather we’re staying here.” She put her head on her mother’s knee. Part of her wanted to believe that Boston wouldn’t be so dreadful. Soon the holidays would be upon them with parties and balls, then the season. Grandmother would certainly make sure her entry into society was wellappointed; perhaps she’d even throw Noli a ball of her very own.

No. Noli shoved the thoughts of parties and gowns aside. There’s more to life than balls.

Like what? the sprite argued. I want a ball.

“Noli, are you well?” Mama’s brows furrowed. “You have that look on your face. I … ” Her mother eased Noli off her and stood, going to the trunk at the foot of the bed, which had barely been unpacked. It had finally returned from her misadventures at Findlay House.

Her mother opened the trunk, making three efficient piles on the bed.

Instead of helping, Noli lay on the bed, staring. Unless physically forced, she would not go to Boston. The possibility of that scenario did exist. Many women needed to be sedated for airship travel—her mother included.

“As much as I adore your random bouts of ladylikeness and how you’ve grown out of your awkward phase, you … ” Her mother added a ball gown to a pile as her lips pursed in a way which meant she was forming her words carefully. “You haven’t been quite right since Findlay. There, I’ve said it.” The piles grew as she sorted with rapidfire quickness. “I know you’re upset about V, and I’m not saying that we should to go to Boston to find someone else for you, I’m saying that we should go to Boston for a fresh start. This isn’t a new idea; we’ve spoken about this before. It might be good for both of us to begin anew.” She turned to Noli’s wardrobe, adding clothing to one of the piles.