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there. You go.”
    Queenie went over to where Doll was standing and peered through the door under Doll’s arm.
    “Liberty?” Vidrine yelled up the stairs.
    Queenie winced and put her hands to her ears.
    Vidrine surveyed her surroundings as if she were taking inventory, bending over to a painting on the wall, rubbing her hand along the hall table.
    “Look at her,” Queenie muttered. “She still got those awful eyes that are way too big for her head. Make her look like she stuck her finger in an electric socket.”
    Doll never did understand Mr. Graham’s attraction to the woman. Besides the manic eyes, Vidrine had the habit of looking sideways over her nose as if she were constantly smelling poop. Thank goodness Miss Ibby looked more like her father, Doll was thinking.
    Queenie nudged her. “Go on out there and get Miss Ibby’s suitcase like I told you.”
    “Maybe Miss Vidrine will just leave it in the hall and go,” Doll said, not budging.
    Queenie craned her neck. “Don’t look like she going nowhere to me.”
    “Liberty Bell, come and get your damn suitcase!” Vidrine screamed.
    The door to Miss Fannie’s room opened, and there were footsteps in the hall.
    “Now look what you done,” Queenie said. “Miss Fannie’s coming out. Hurry. Go out there and see if you can stop her.”
    But it was too late. Fannie was already making her way down the hall toward Vidrine. To Doll’s surprise, Fannie was dressed and had on a bit of makeup.
    “Why Miss Fannie smiling? She hates that woman,” Queenie said.
    “Oh no,” Doll said.
    “What?” Queenie nudged Doll. “What now?”
    “Remember what we was just talking about? I believe Miss Fannie’s getting ready to ask Miss Vidrine about Ibby living in this here house with her. Why else would she have a smile on her face? Miss Fannie only smiles real big like that when she wants something from somebody. And she must want it awful bad, from the look of that big grin.”
    “Well, Fannie, how long has it been?” Vidrine asked icily.
    Doll was expecting Fannie to say something like
not long enough
.
    “A pleasure to see you again, Vidrine,” Fannie said cordially, extending her hand.
    Vidrine lurched back and raised her hand in the air as if Fannie had just pointed a gun at her. “I just came to drop off Ibby’s suitcase, not to make amends. She forgot it in the car. I have to go.” She started toward the door.
    Fannie hurried after her. “Wait a minute. Please. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
    “I don’t have time.” Vidrine opened the front door, the suitcase still in her hand.
    Fannie grabbed her arm. “Where are you going, anyway?”
    Vidrine yanked it away. “None of your business.”
    Fannie grabbed her arm again, this time harder. Vidrine struggled against her grip.
    “Ohhhh . . . we gone have a catfight,” Queenie said excitedly to Doll.
    Fannie let go. “Just hold on a minute. I’m not asking because I care where you’re running off to. You can go to India as far as I’mconcerned. I’m asking because I wondered if you would let Ibby stay here with me.”
    Vidrine rubbed her arm. A bruise was beginning to form where Fannie had grabbed it. “Now look what you’ve done!”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Sorry? You’re sorry all right. What are you prattling on about anyway? Ibby is staying with you, like we agreed. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to go.” Vidrine opened the door wider.
    Fannie closed it with her foot.
    Vidrine turned toward her. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
    “I mean for good. I want Ibby to come live here.”
    Vidrine put her hand on her hip. “I asked if Ibby could stay with you for a while. I didn’t mean forever.”
    “I know,” Fannie said. “But I think she might be better off here. With me.”
    “With you? And just what the hell do you mean by that, better off with you? I’ll be the judge of who Ibby’s better off with, thank you very much. And if you hurl any more