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.

Wait, could her mother wish to go back? Noli knew she’d been missing Boston lately, but hadn’t given much thought how their situation might wear on her mother. How she might wish to return home to Boston, permanently, but hadn’t wanted to give up on both her shop and Father. That, to her mother, this surprise visit might be a blessing in disguise.

Noli eyed Mama, who didn’t appear to be too upset by the whole situation, despite her small protests in the parlor. “True, a fresh start may not be a bad thing, but you know Grandmamma, she’ll have me married off by Christmas.” Mama piled shoes in the bottom of the now-empty trunk. “She isn’t that quick—it would take her at least to the end of the season. We’ll tell her that the matchmaking needs wait.”

“What if … ” If Noli didn’t speak now, she’d wake up in her grandfather’s house in Boston, her social calendar for the next year full.

“What is it?” Her mother filled the trunk with the contents of her wardrobe and dresser—nightdresses, gloves, corsets, petticoats, handbags …

Noli drew her knees to her chest. “It’s not that I don’t wish to get married, because I do … eventually. But my dream is to attend the university and become a botanist. Not all men oppose women being educated. V and I talked about going to the university together. There are coeducational ones and some where the men’s and women’s universities are next to each other.”

“You what?” It didn’t come out harshly, but more surprised, as Mama held up one of Noli’s gowns, frowned, and placed it in a different pile on the bed. “When did you decide that?”