Chapter 7: The Terms

At seven the next morning, someone rang my doorbell and held the button down.

I was in my robe at the stove, making pancakes shaped like horses for two girls who liked to be asked what they were.

The headlines had gone up overnight.

"Hidden Wife Walks Out of the Dark." "Rancher's Fiancee Meets the Real Mrs. Draper."

Odette had sent me fourteen links before I woke.

I opened the door on the chain.

Conal stood in the hallway in yesterday's gray suit, with a paper tray of coffees in one hand.

He had not shaved.

"Give me ten minutes," he said. "I'll go if you say go."

"How did you get my address?"

"Your friend with the red lipstick wrote it on my hand," he said. "She told me to ring at seven, not a minute before."

I looked past him down the hall.

Odette's door was open a crack, and I could see one red-lipped smile.

I took the chain off the door.

Maisie was already at the table, kneeling on her chair, with syrup on her chin.

"The tall man," she announced.

"This is Mr. Draper," I said. "He's a friend of Mama's."

"He is not," Maisie said. "He cried at the show."

"I did not cry," Conal said.

"Your eyes were all wet."

"That was the lights."

"Okay," Maisie said, in a way that meant she did not believe him, and went back to her pancake.

Bea sat very straight beside her sister and watched Conal over her fork.

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