“What?”
“You heard me.”
The housekeeper looked at him.
Twelve years.
She had been there before he married.
Before the daughter-in-law ever entered the family.
She had cared for the matriarch after hip surgery.
She had sat beside the husband’s father in hospice during the nights when the family could not bring themselves to remain in the room.
She knew where every Christmas ornament belonged.
She knew which medication the matriarch forgot unless reminded.
She knew the husband hated cinnamon in coffee even though he pretended not to mind.
Now she watched the man she had known since his twenties decide whether to throw her out because his wife had screamed louder.
His wife stepped closer.
“Tell her to leave.”
The husband looked toward the housekeeper.
“What happened before we came in?”
“I entered with towels.”
“And?”
“She was standing over the tea.”
His wife scoffed.
“She’s changing the story.”
“No, I’m not.”
“What did she have in her hands?”
The housekeeper looked at the island.
“A spoon.”
The husband turned toward his wife.
She answered immediately.
“I was making tea.”
“For Grandma?”
“Yes.”
The matriarch finally spoke.
“You never make my tea.”
The daughter-in-law paused.
“I wanted to do something nice.”
The elderly woman looked at the cup again.
“What kind?”
“Earl Grey.”
The matriarch’s eyes narrowed.
“I stopped drinking Earl Grey last year.”
The daughter-in-law went still.
The husband noticed.
“So what is in the cup?”
She looked toward the box beside the kettle.
“I thought that was what you drank.”
The matriarch said nothing.
The daughter-in-law recovered.
“That has nothing to do with her tampering with it.”
The housekeeper said, “Test it.”
Everyone turned.
The daughter-in-law stared at her.
“What?”
The housekeeper looked at the husband.
“Don’t argue. Don’t guess. Test the tea.”
The daughter-in-law gave a nervous laugh.
“Test it for what?”
The housekeeper replied, “I don’t know.”
Then she looked directly at her.
“You tell us.”
The husband’s expression changed.
His wife saw it.
She stepped toward him.
“You are seriously listening to her?”
“I’m listening to everyone.”
“No, you’re treating me like a suspect.”
“Because right now two people are giving completely opposite accounts.”
“One of them is your wife.”
“And one has worked for my family twelve years.”
The daughter-in-law’s mouth opened.
The sentence had landed badly.
Not because he meant to rank them.
Because she heard that he had not automatically chosen her.
Something about that frightened her.
She glanced toward the island.
Then toward the doorway.
The husband noticed.
“Where are you going?”
“I need air.”
“Stay here.”
She stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Until we understand what happened.”
“You don’t order me around.”
“I’m not ordering.”
“It sounded like it.”
The elderly matriarch tapped her cane once against the floor.
“Enough.”
The room fell silent.
She pointed toward the cup.
“No one touches that.”
Then toward the housekeeper.
“Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were just struck.”
The housekeeper hesitated.
Then sat on a stool.
The matriarch looked toward the daughter-in-law.
“You too.”
“I don’t need—”
“Sit.”
She did.
The old woman then looked at her grandson.