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“But I am trying to help Davey. To do that I really need to know what you’ve observed. You’re closer to the two of them than anyone.”
    The housekeeper appeared placated by the explanation. “That’s true enough,” she said. “I suppose since it’s for Davey’s sake, I could tell you what it seems like to me. I’ve been with the family since Davey was a toddler. The two of them adore each other. Always have. That’s why it’s been so sad, seeing how Mr. David spends all his time at the office these days. He claims it’s because he’s got more work than he can handle, but the truth of it is that he just can’t bear to be in this house.”
    “You mean since his wife died?”
    Mrs. Larsen nodded. “This place was Miss Alicia’s choice. Her touch is on every room. I doubt he’s admitted, even to himself, how much that bothers him. Asked him once why he didn’t move after she was gone. He liked to bit my head off.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “I haven’t said another word about it. He’ll snap out of it one of these days. It’ll just take time.”
    “And in the meantime, Davey’s suffering,” Kate murmured, more to herself than the housekeeper.
    When Davey came back and they were seated at one end of the huge, formal dining room table, Kate suggested they draft a schedule of the time Davey wanted his father to spend with him.
    “And he’ll have to do what I ask?”
    “We’ll negotiate,” Kate explained. “But yes, I think he’ll agree to most of it.”
    Breakfast every morning, he suggested, glancing at Kate for approval. She nodded and made a note. An hour each evening before bedtime. Saturday and Sunday afternoons. One all-day outing a month on a weekend. The requests seemed pitifully small and yet it was clear from the hopeful gleam in his eyes that they would mean so much to Davey.
    As Kate drew up the list, she used her own childhood as a model, then modified that optimum to allow for David Winthrop’s current emotional state. It would be pointless to demand that he correct everything overnight. If she could get him to commit to making small changes, the big ones would come eventually. Coaching one of those teams his son was on, perhaps. A weekend fishing trip. An honest-to-goodness vacation.
    Kate thought back to the special relationship she had shared with her father. He had always been there for her and Ellen, cheering them on in sports, encouraging them with their schoolwork.
    Only recently had she discovered that he hadn’t even been Ellen’s natural father. Yet he had never openly differentiated between the two of them. If Kate and he had shared a special bond, he had done his best to balance that by spending extra time with her sister. She couldn’t imagine what life would have been like if he hadn’t played such an integral role in their family.
    To Kate’s growing irritation, David Winthrop still wasn’t home by Davey’s bedtime. Mrs. Larsen found them in Davey’s playroom, a huge, cheerful room filled with games, long-neglected stuffed animals, a rocking horse, sporting equipment and a state-of-the-art computer. The colorful storybook murals on the wall had obviously been painted with loving attention to detail. Davey had confirmed that his father had done them.
    Mrs. Larsen observed Kate and Davey silently from the doorway for a moment before saying firmly, “Bedtime, young man.”
    “But I have company,” he protested, glancing up from the Monopoly board. “Besides, Ms. Newton owes me a bundle. I’ve loaned her a lot of money and I’m about to foreclose on her last property.”
    Mrs. Larsen gave Kate an understanding look. “The boy’s destined to be a real estate mogul.”
    “He’s sneaky,” Kate added. “Had me in hock up to my eyeballs before I realized what he was up to.”
    The housekeeper’s mouth curved faintly in what probably passed for a smile. “Then it’s definitely bedtime. We adults have to stick together. Davey, I’m sure Ms.