She crossed her fingers on the strap of her purse for luck and walked straight up to the ground-level doors.
Lifting one of the brass knockers, she gave three firm raps.
Inside, Stella came down the steps with Parker. It was her turn to walk him. She called out, "I'll get it. "
Parker was already barking as she opened the door.
She saw a girl with straight, fashionably ragged brown hair, a sharply angled face dominated by huge eyes the color of a robin's egg. She smiled, showing a bit of an overbite, and bent down to pet Parker when he sniffed at her shoes.
She said, "Hi. "
"Hi. " Where the hell had she come from? Stella wondered. There was no car parked outside.
The girl looked to be about twelve. And very pregnant.
"I'm looking for Rosalind Ashby. Rosalind Harper Ashby," she corrected. "Is she home?"
"Yes. She's upstairs. Come in. "
"Thanks. I'm Hayley. " She held out a hand. "Hayley Phillips. Mrs. Ashby and I are cousins, in a complicated southern sort of way. "
"Stella Rothchild. Why don't you come in, sit down. I'll go find Roz. "
"That'd be great. " Swiveling her head back and forth, Hayley tried to see everything as Stella led her into the parlor. "Wow. You've just got to say wow. "
"I did the first time I saw it. Do you want anything? Something to drink?"
"I'm okay. I should probably wait until. . . " She stayed on her feet, wandered to the fireplace. It was like something on a television show, or the movies. "Do you work in the house? Are you, like, the housekeeper?"
"No. I work at Roz's nursery. I'm the manager. I'll just go get Roz. You should sit down. "
"It's okay. " Hayley rubbed her pregnant belly. "We've been sitting. "
"Be right back. " With Parker in tow, Stella dashed off.
She hurried up the stairs, turned into Roz's wing. She'd only been in there once, when David had taken her on the grand tour, but she followed the sounds of the television and found Roz in her sitting room.
There was an old black-and-white movie on TV. Not that Roz was watching. She sat at an antique secretary, wearing baggy jeans and a sweatshirt as she sketched on a pad. Her feet were bare, and to Stella's surprise, her toe-nails were painted a bright candy pink.
She knocked on the doorjamb.
"Hmm? Oh, Stella, good. I was just sketching out an idea I had for a cutting garden along the northwest side of the nursery. Thought it might inspire customers. Come take a look. "
"I'd love to, but there's someone downstairs to see you. Hayley Phillips. She says she's your cousin. "
"Hayley?" Roz frowned. "I don't have a cousin Hayley. Do I?"
"She's young. Looks like a teenager. Pretty. Brown hair, blue eyes, taller than me. She's pregnant. "
"Well, for God's sake. " Roz rubbed the back of her neck. "Phillips. Phillips. My first husband's grandmother's sister - or maybe it was cousin - married a Phillips. I think. "
"Well, she did say you were cousins in a complicated southern sort of way. "
"Phillips. " She closed her eyes, tapped a finger in the center of her forehead as if to wake up memory. "She must be Wayne Phillips's girl. He died last year. Well, I'd better go see what this is about. "
She got up. "Your boys settled down for the night?"
"Yes, just. "