to face her mother. “No, I mean, what’s he doing here—in my house?”
Janet March smiled that unsettling smile again. “He’s going to be staying here at the house with you dunng Bob’s visit.”
Rosemary’s eyebrows shot up at that. “I beg your pardon?”
Her mother opened her mouth to reply, but Willis raised a hand to stop her. “Allow me, Mrs. March.”
He looked down at Rosemary, silently for a moment, as if he were trying to figure out just how to say what he had to say so that an imbecile would understand it. She felt her back go up. Fast.
“Your house is situated perfectly for me to view Bobrzynyckolonycki,” he said. “The trajectory—” He stopped, as if he feared any word with more than two syllables might be too big a challenge for her.
“I know what a trajectory is,” she told him crisply.
He seemed genuinely surprised. “Do you?”
She nodded, but suddenly felt less certain. “I think.”
“Well, let me just put it this way,” he began again. “Your house is situated perfectly for me to observe both the comet’s approach and its departure.”
“Why my house?”
“It’s well outside the city limits and up here on a hill all by itself. There are no lights from downtown Endicott to interfere with my viewing of the night sky. And the chemical reaction from traffic and industry is minimal—thus they won’t interfere with atmospheric conditions. And it’s quiet and secluded, which will be enormously helpful while I’m collecting and analyzing my data. Best of all, your attic windows are almost perfectly aligned with the comet’s path—all we’ll have to do is take out the slats. And with your attic being the massive size that it is, I can set up my telescope with little difficulty.”
“You see?” her mother concluded with a smile, taking each of Rosemary’s hands affectionately in her own. “This is the perfect place for Willis to perform his work. So he’ll be staying here in the house with you for the duration of his study.”
Rosemary looked first at Willis, then at her mother, then back at Willis. “The hell he will,” she said.
Her mother frowned at her. “Rosemary, don’t you dare swear in my presence.”
She felt immediately and properly chastened, and blushed deeply. “I’m sorry, Mom.” However, she quickly recovered enough to add, “But he can’t stay here.”
“Of course he can.”
“No, he can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want him to.”
Janet March’s smile returned, and it grated on Rosemary even more than usual. “Darling, that’s perfectly understandable,” her mother cooed, “given the history the two of you share.” She dropped one of her daughter’s hands and curled her fingers around Willis’s solid arm to include him in the discussion. “But you’re both adults now, and I know you’re above all that adolescent bickering you used to engage in.”
“But, Mom—” Rosemary began.
Janet turned to her and interrupted, “And, Rosemary, darling, not only is Willis working on a very important study for the scientific community, what he’s doing will add beautifully to the festival.”
“But, Mom—”
“Imagine the media coverage. It will be good PR. And you know how important that is to Endicott.”
“But, Mom—”
“The revenue generated during the Comet Festival is what keeps this town afloat. And I don’t have to remind you that we only have the opportunity to take advantage of it every fifteen years.”
“But, Mom—”
“And besides, darling, this is still my house.”
Well, that certainly shut Rosemary up. Her mother had never invoked ownership privilege for anything before.
“And speaking as both mayor and citizen of Endicott, I’m inviting Willis to be a guest in my house for as long as he needs to be.” She fixed her gaze intently on her daughter. “Will that be a problem, Rosemary?”
Rosemary returned her mother’s gaze, feeling a heavy weight descend upon her shoulders. Her mother was right—the house belonged to her. She could invite whomever she pleased to be a guest, and there wouldn’t be a whole lot Rosemary could do about it. Still, it would have been nice if, just once, her mother had taken her daughter’s feelings into consideration over what might be best for the community.
But Janet March was a much better mayor than she had ever been a mother. It’s why she’d spent three consecutive terms in office and would doubtless be elected to another.
It wasn’t bitterness on Rosemary’s part that caused her to draw such a conclusion. It was simply a fact of her life that her mother had never taken as much interest in the wants and needs of her children as she had her own civic activities. Oh, Janet had been a nice enough mother, and even considerate in her own, rather shortsighted way. But she’d never been particularly good at mothering. And, if pressed, even Janet herself would probably laugh and admit that such a thing was true.
Rosemary knew there was no way her mother would bend on the idea of having Willis stay right here in the big English stucco with her. Short of moving out herself, Rosemary was stuck with him as a house guest for the next few weeks, if that was what Mayor Janet March decreed. And there was no way Rosemary would be moving out. Even if she could have afforded to rent something else for that length of time, thanks to the Comet Festival, there wasn’t a room available within a hundred miles of Endicott.
And even though Angie and Kirby would probably open their homes to her, Rosemary couldn’t find it in herself to impose on her friends for that length of time. Angie’s apartment was barely big enough for one. And besides, Angie was way too busy investigating the appearance in town of that lowlife, scumbag, murdering slug Ethan Zorn to want Rosemary bothering her.
And although Kirby had an extra bedroom at her house, Rosemary didn’t want to crimp her friend’s style trying to snag a man. Even though there was little chance that Kirby, the Endicott equivalent to Mother Teresa, was ever going to land herself a local boy, because all the local boys just thought Kirby was far too sweet and far too nice to ever try something like...like...like that with her. Not that Kirby hadn’t tried.
It was a big house, Rosemary told herself. With any luck at all, she and Willis wouldn’t even have to see each other during his stay. With any luck at all, he’d banish himself to the attic with his notebook and his telescope and his scientific equations, which he found infinitely more interesting than he found her anyway. With any luck at all, he’d leave her alone and keep to himself.
And with any luck at all, she thought further with a helpless sigh, she wouldn’t find herself feeling like the know-nothing jerk she’d always been convinced she was whenever she was around Willis.
“Fine,” she capitulated reluctantly. Swallowing a groan, she turned to her old nemesis and
