Maybe This Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

said, putting her suitcase down on the floor. “You must be Mrs. Crumb. I’m—”
    â€œAndromeda Miller. Mr. Archer told me.” Mrs. Crumb nodded, her arms folded over the aggressively flowered apron that covered her equally aggressive bosom. “He tells me everything. He trusts me like I was his own mother.”
    The enormity of the lies in that short speech left Andie stunned, not just at the thought of North telling the old lady everything—North didn’t tell
anybody
everything—but also at him somehow collating Lydia and Mrs. Crumb.
    â€œI know what’s best, so you do as I say, and we’ll all get along fine.” She smiled at Andie, but her eyes were cold. “That’s Carter,” she went on, jerking her head toward the boy without looking at him, “and that’s Alice, and they’re your students. Everything else,I take care of.” She transferred her reptile smile to the little girl. “I’m the one who stays with the little lambs. They know I’m the one they can count on.”
    The girl ignored her, but the boy looked back at her, his eyes like stone.
    If that kid is a lamb, the wolves are toast,
Andie thought.
    â€œSo now that you understand how things work,” Mrs. Crumb went on, “I’ll take you to your room.” She took a step closer and Andie caught a whiff of peppermint and booze. “But don’t you get any ideas about me working for you.”
    Andie looked at her, exasperated. She might just be feeling threatened—
    Mrs. Crumb made a short nod toward Andie’s suitcase. “You’ll have to carry that. I’m not your servant. And I’ll be needing some help around the house, so don’t think you’re too good to pick up a broom.” She sniffed. “I know your kind.”
    â€œI’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” Andie said, stepping on her temper. “I’m not a nanny. And for the next month, I’m the one in charge.”
    â€œOh?” Mrs. Crumb smiled again, false pity in the tilt of her head. “Mr. Archer put somebody he doesn’t even know over me?” She chuckled without humor. “I don’t think so. You’ll do as I say or I’ll tell Mr. Archer. And then we’ll just see what happens.”
    The little girl continued scooping orange whatever, but the boy was watching now.
    â€œMiller is my professional name,” Andie said. “My married name is Archer.”
    Mrs. Crumb’s smile froze in place.
    Andie shoved her ringless left hand in her coat pocket. “Mrs. North Archer. My husband sent me here for a month to fix whatever’s wrong.” She walked over to the table and looked into the bowls, since meeting Mrs. Crumb’s eyes after that lie was not easy. “After we make our assessment, we’ll decide on the children’s future.”
    â€œYour
husband
?” Mrs. Crumb said, sounding torn between outrage and fear.
    Andie pointed to the kids’ bowls. “Mrs. Crumb, what are the lambs having for dinner?”
    â€œMacaroni and cheese.” Mrs. Crumb put her chin up. “That’s good for them.”
    â€œAnd . . . ?”
    â€œAnd what?”
    â€œWhere are the vegetables? Fruit? Protein? Grains? Dairy? You have fat, starch, and yellow dye number two covered, now let’s try fiber and vitamins.”
    â€œI don’t need to listen to this,” Mrs. Crumb said, her smile gone now.
    â€œActually, you do.” Andie went over to the cupboard and opened it to see boxes of mac and cheese and jars of pasta in some kind of toxic orange sauce. “Oh, my God.”
    â€œYou fancy city people,” Mrs. Crumb said as Andie opened the refrigerator.
    There was a jar of jam, a loaf of white bread, a gallon jug of milk that was almost empty, and two squares of American cheese.
    She turned back to the table. “You’re going to have to do better than