Chapter 8: The Lake House

The lake house stood at the end of a gravel road, white and long and lit up.

It was seven in the morning.

Nathaniel had driven the whole way with one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee, saying nothing.

Because there was nothing left to say.

His lawyer had called twice on the way.

The paper was real, signed by a judge who golfed with Constance.

It said Polly was to stay with family while the claim of a mother "of uncertain standing" was reviewed.

It said nothing about a father who objected.

"It won't hold," Nathaniel said at the last curve. "I'll have it vacated by noon."

"Noon is five hours."

"I know."

"She's six, Nathaniel. She's in a stranger's house in her pajamas."

"I know that too."

At the gate, two men in dark jackets stood with their hands clasped.

"Sir," he said to Nathaniel. "Your mother asked us not to let anyone through."

"I'm her son."

"She was specific."

"I'm her son, and this is my property, and I will have you off it by lunch."

"Sir."

Behind the house, on the lawn that ran down to the water, white tents stood in rows.

Waiters in black carried trays.

Forty or fifty people in linen and sunglasses were drifting through the grass with mimosas.

It was the Foundation's summer breakfast, I realized.

Constance had scheduled the whole morning around the one place no one would dare to make a scene.

I got out of the car.

"Della," Nathaniel said.

"Go around the side. Find Polly. I'll keep her busy."

"Her?"

"Everyone."

I walked straight at the two men.

I did not break stride.

I walked between them, and one reached for my arm.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Caution! Cute Baby Alert! from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.