Page 196 of The Seven Rings
“So do I. We’ll take that back, too, and make it a happy place. I think it was, Cleo. I think it was a happy place.”
Sonya began to sketch again. “It’s a really big day.”
“And it’s not over yet. Here comes the rest of us.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Joy burst into the room in the form of floppy-eared, tail-wagging Mookie. It was matched by a happy Yoda. Jones acknowledged both, accepted the licks and sniffs as Pye looked on with dignity. The wrestling match started quickly.
“Okay, boys and girl.” Trey set a bottle of champagne on the island before walking to the door. “Take it outside.”
“You brought champagne.”
“We figured outmatching a crazy dead witch earned the bubbly. Kudos,” Owen added.
“Since you’re filled in on that, I have to say: But wait, there’s more.”
Trey paused in the act of lowering his head to kiss her. “She came at you again?”
“No.” She curled her finger. “And when you finish that thought, I’ll tell you.” She rose on her toes to meet his lips.
“Is the champagne on hold, or am I popping it?” Owen asked.
“Oh, definitely popped.”
“Great. And something smells amazing in here.”
“Several things,” Cleo told him. “I need a cake plate. Son, champagne flutes.”
“On that. Pop that baby, and we’ll get this started.”
The dumbwaiter motored its way from the basement. Sonya immediately thought of red-eyed rats.
“I’ve got it. And the glasses.”
“It’s going to be a cake plate. From Molly. That’s what it’s going to be.” But Sonya kept her distance.
“And that’s what it is.” Trey took out a white pedestal dish with a glass dome.
“That’s perfect.” Cleo took the plate as Owen released the cork with a muted pop. “You can always count on Molly.”
“You can.” Sonya waited until Owen poured all the glasses, then lifted hers. “And here’s to Molly, the magnificent housekeeper of Poole Manor.”
She sipped, then beamed. “I saw her today. I saw her, heard her voice—a lovely, musical Irish voice. I saw Grimes, the head butler when Molly first arrived from Ireland, and Hobson, the head housekeeper, Mrs. Steele, in charge of laundry. I saw Rory—not sure of his position—and two maids, Gracie and Frances.”
“You talked to them?”
She shook her head at Trey. “No, I was the ghost.”
“Took a trip through the mirror,” Owen said.
“Yes, but not like the other times. I was downstairs. I wanted to take another look at where I want the game room, get an idea of exactly what I want, how I want it. Cleo was just coming down—taking a break from creating a magnificent feast—and I was wishing out loud that I could see that space the way it had been so we could, well, pay homage. And wouldn’t it be great if I could see Molly in there.”
She took another sip, gestured with her glass. “Here’s what happened.”
Once she’d taken them through it, she opened the sketchbook. “This is Molly, the day she came to the manor.”
“Cute kid,” Owen said.
