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“Hey, there,” Arrington said.
“Hang on, I’ll put you on speaker; Peter’s here, too.” He pressed the button and Peter came and sat on the edge of the bed.
“How’s the house coming along?” Stone asked.
“Beautifully,” she replied, “if I do say so. I did a brilliant job of packing at the old house, and everything is going right into place. We’re hanging pictures tomorrow.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Stone said. “Peter has a new friend.”
“Yes, I do,” Peter said, then launched into a monologue about Hattie and how brilliant she was.
“Whew!” Arrington said when he finally paused. “That’s the longest I ever heard anybody talk without taking a breath!”
“She’s quite a girl,” Stone said.
“Well, Peter, why don’t you ask her down for our housewarming? It’s next Saturday night. You can ask her folks’ permission at dinner tonight, and tell them they’re invited, too.”
“That would be wonderful, Mom,” Peter said.
“Come down on Friday, so we’ll have all of Saturday and Sunday together,” Arrington said. “You can fly back on Monday morning. Will the school let you do that?”
“I pretty much make my own schedule,” Peter said.
“Stone, you’d better take Peter to get a new tux. His old one isn’t going to fit. And don’t forget to get some riding clothes for yourself. I’ll have the perfect horse for you.”
“I’ll do that.”
“I can’t wait for you to see the house. It’s going to look like it’s always been here and we’ve always lived here. Architectural Digest is coming on Friday to photograph the place.”
“Who’s doing your PR?” Stone asked.
“I am. Paige Rense, the editor, is an old friend.”
“Are they going to photograph us?” Stone asked.
“No, just the house.”
“When will the piece run?”
“I don’t know; not for some time, I expect. They have a long lead time.”
“Well, I suppose everything will be more settled by then.”
“Mom,” Peter said, “I’ve got a new room upstairs.” He told her about his plans for his suite.
“That sounds perfect for you, Peter. May I speak to Stone alone for a moment?”
“Sure. Good-bye, Mom. I’ll see you on Friday.” He padded back to his own room.
“Is he gone?” Arrington asked.
“Yes, we’re alone.” Stone picked up the phone. “What’s up?”
“There’s something I have to tell you about,” she said.
“All right.”
“Tim Rutledge will be around this weekend for the photo shoot and for the housewarming, of course. He’s from an old family in the county, and everyone here will know him.”
