“Daisy used to be a history teacher, Mom.” Claire grinned at me, her dark eyes shining.
“Oh, God, sorry again. Forgot about that. And I haven’t gotten around to sending out invitations yet, but will you come to Claire’s birthday party? It’s the night before Halloween.”
I smiled at Claire. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Mommy said we wouldn’t do it on my actual birthday, because all my friends would be trick-or-treating.”
“That’s true. And besides, you deserve your own special day. Can’t wait until you see what I got you. It’s a special present from me. And from Cyril, too.”
“Ooh! What is it? Can I guess?”
“Nope.” I exchanged a glance with her mother. Especially not here, surrounded by dollhouses. Too many clues. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Patsy winked at me. “You know, Daisy, Angus has been just awesome. I’m helping out more and more here lately. Thanks again.”
When Angus had been in prison, and then in the hospital, I’d suggested that Patsy step in and handle the bid calling in order to keep the business going. Betty Backstead was too nervous to get up on the stage herself, but Patsy turned out to be a natural auctioneer.
“In fact, I might be able to quit the diner one of these days and get that little place we’ve been dreaming of.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Patsy and Claire lived with Patsy’s sister at Quarry Ridge, in the same development as Serrano. They had the whole finished basement to themselves, but it wasn’t the same as having your own house.
Patsy put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Well, kid, let me get you that soda I promised you before the action starts. See you later, Daisy.”
They headed toward the snack bar and I spotted Ardine Smalls making last-minute adjustments to some of the dollhouses on display. I went over to her, and we walked around together during the presale inspection. She seemed to have a story about each one. Which competition it had won, and in which year, or at which auction Harriet had outbid her to buy that particular house.
The hall was filling up quickly, so I told Ardine I’d catch her later. I recognized some of her gray-haired compatriots from the competition milling around. There was so much to be sold tonight that Patsy and Angus were going to trade off the auctioneering, an hour at a time. I brought Claire backstage with me. We’d be in charge of lining up the dolls in the correct order for the assistants to carry out to the podium.
Once the auction began, I started marking my catalog with the winning bids, but after a while I gave up, stunned by the huge amounts. They were already way over what I’d thought, and the reserve prices Angus had established. Although as he’d often told me, it’s the marketplace that sets the market value, not the auctioneer. Ardine had spent a fortune herself by buying five of the bigger dollhouses.
During a break in the action, I went outside for some fresh air. The lot was jammed full, with cars spilling onto the surrounding fields. There were license plates from New Jersey, Maryland, Delaware, even as far away as New York and Ohio.
As I passed the snack bar on my way back inside, there was a long line of men laughing and joking with Martha as she served up the wings and meatballs as fast as she could go. Cyril was glowering and pouring sodas and hot coffee.
He stepped out from behind the snack bar when he saw me. “Could I have a word?”
“Sure, Cyril.”
I summoned my meager supply of patience as he worked his way up to whatever it was he wanted to ask.