“I’ll go!” Madison ran to the entrance to answer the knock on the door. She straightened her blouse one last time and then yanked the door open. “Hello, Grandmother. Please come—”

“Finally. What took you so long?” Without waiting for a reply, Grandmother Eileen marched past her.

“…in,” Madison finished under her breath, closing the door.

With a strained smile, Sherry hurried toward them and held out her hand. “Good evening, Mrs. Fielding. Happy Thanksgiving. Wonderful that you could join us.”

Her grandmother barely took Sherry’s hand before letting go again. “Good evening.” She inspected the hall as if seeing it for the first time. “Where’s the boy?”

Madison walked to Sherry and took her hand. “Jake is helping Rita Mae in the kitchen.”

Grandmother Eileen’s jaw dropped. “You’re raising the boy to help the staff?”

Madison let go of Sherry’s hand to take her grandmother’s coat. She sucked in a deep, but unfortunately not calming, breath. “He likes helping her. Besides—”

“I hope you have scotch. I’m not sure I can endure this sober.”

Wow. Even for her standards, Grandmother Eileen was bitchy today. But this is our home, and she doesn’t have the right to talk to us like that here. “You can’t stand this sober? Well, in that case we don’t have to worry, do we? The last time you were sober was probably in the Reagan era.”

“How dare you?”

Sherry caressed Madison’s arm. “I think Rita Mae needs another helping hand in the kitchen. Would you mind, Madison?”

Maybe Sherry was right; it was best she left before she said something she would regret later. She nodded and walked off, wondering how Sherry could stay so calm.

Sherry watched Madison leave for the kitchen. Then she turned to face Mrs. Fielding and gave her a smile. “Shall we head to the living room? I can serve you a glass of scotch there.”

Mrs. Fielding stalked silently past her.

In the living room, Sherry saw over the kitchen counter how Madison was bending down to Jake, making him laugh with something she said.

Mrs. Fielding shook her head in disapproval. “She will never grow up.”

“You’re wrong.” Sherry opened the cabinet with several bottles of alcohol beside the dinner table and got a glass and a full bottle of scotch out. Madison hasn’t touched any alcohol for a while. A smile stole itself onto her face when she walked to the kitchen counter and held the glass up, so that Madison, without any words necessary, could put some ice cubes into the glass while winking at her.

Sherry winked back and returned to Madison’s grandmother.

As soon as Mrs. Fielding took the glass from Sherry, she took a healthy swig and hummed approvingly. “You don’t know Madison as I do.”