By noon on Sunday Angie had ticked off most of the to-do items on the long list she had written Friday night: they had unpacked and stocked the kitchen, found their offices and the film and video editing suite—Tony was still slightly in shock, and Angie had rarely seen Rivera so enthusiastic—and met the neighbors. The van had been resuscitated by a mechanic named Carlos who seemed pretty much unfazable, and they were ready for the first, all-important meeting with Zula Bragg on Monday morning. Sunday afternoon they would spend at a birthday party for Miss Junie Rose, an invitation issued by her eldest daughter, Harriet Rose Darling, and accepted by Tony for all of them. Angie was wondering if she could plead exhaustion when the doorbell rang.

Tony, shaken for once out of his usual languor, raced upstairs with Rivera just behind him.

“Miss Zula is here,” he said. “She just dropped by.” He pushed both hands through his hair so it stood on end.

“She’s got a half dozen relatives with her,” Rivera said. “It’s like oral exams all over again. What if they don’t approve of us? Can they fire us?”

“Calm down, winkie,” Angie said. “That won’t happen. Miss Zula just wants to establish who’s in charge; that’s good, in a way. This isn’t the way we planned it, but it’ll be okay.” She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Give me your first impression.”

Rivera closed her eyes and then opened them. “Daunting. Regal. Inscrutable.”

Angie nodded. “We expected that, right? And we’re up for it. We better call and make apologies about the birthday party.”

“Not necessary,” said Tony. “Miss Zula and Miss Maddie are on their way there, too, they said so.”

The Braggs had come from church, the women in dresses and hats, the men in suits, their shoes highly polished. Zula Bragg was a small, strongly built woman with a willing smile, but her eyes missed nothing at all. If she meant to put Angie on guard, then her sister Maddie was there to offset that effect. Miss Maddie might have been Zula’s twin in body and face, but she was the kind of older woman who clucked and petted and cooed and most probably never said a bad word about anyone. She had brought them an applesauce cake, which was a relief, as they had nothing to offer visitors but beer, coffee, cold pizza, and a half pack of stale Oreos.