Dinner that evening, for Percy, was surprisingly uneventful. He asked his Stepmother where the box containing his baseballs, glove, bats, footballs, and toys was. Stephanie Anderson coldly replied to her stepson in her finest British accent, "I haven't a clue, Percy dear. I though you told the movers to put it in the moving van. Did you forget to do it, my dear?" "No, Stepmother. I am positive I told them to get it. I don't know what could have happened. Could it be lying around here somewhere?" "No, my dear. I am quite certain everything has been unpacked. I suppose we'll just have to replace them." "Does this mean I can get a new glove, Stepmother. And a new bat? Several bats? And some new toys?" "Perhaps, Percy. Perhaps." Then Stephanie added coyly, "Of course, your behavior must improve, Percy." "What do you mean!?" Percy responded defensively. "We'll talk about it in the morning, over tea, in the parlour, precisely at nine o'clock." "B...B...But, Stepmother...that's not fair!" His Stepmother laughed mockingly. "Why, of course it's fair, Percy. Besides, you really have NO choice in the matter, now do you? And you can start by clearing the table and doing the dishes." Percy defiantly responded, "That's girls' work!" "Take it or leave it, Percy." And with that, his beautiful Stepmother got up from the dining room table, smoothed out Her skirts, and went to Her bedroom, shutting the door behind Her. Percy clinched his fists in anger. How dare Her! He couldn't stand that b&^%$! And then he laughed to himself about how he had gotten away with sneaking into Her bedroom while She had been gone. After all, She hadn't even mentioned it at dinner. So at least She couldn't hold that over him. Percy grudgingly cleared the table, though, washed and dried the dishes, and thought about that key on Stepmother's vanity. And for the next hour, upon going up to his room, little Percy recalled his brazen morning excursion into the deep feminine confines of his strikingly beautiful stepmother's boudoir. Now he knew Her most intimate secrets surrounding Her extensive collection of expensive, lavishly lacy lingerie. And...ohhhhhh.....those petticoats!! HER petticoats!! And now he had located that evasive key to his favorite armoire. Around eight o'clock that evening Percy gave in to his temptation to wander by his Stepmother's bedroom, with the hope that he just might catch a glimpse of Her. And he wasn't disappointed! Deciding not to creep quite as closely as he had the previous night, when the floor creaked, Percy stood from afar, gazing at his beautiful Stepmother, seated comfortably at the feminine settee in front of Her vanity mirror, a gold hairbrush in Her hand, slowly brushing Her long golden blonde hair, and wearing only the beautiful lacy white satin half slip he had caught glimpses of earlier in the day, and a matching bra. Suddenly, the telephone in Her bedroom rang. Getting up to answer the bedside white French provincial telephone with gold trim, She laughed, listened intently, whispered a few things into the phone, and ended the call by saying, just loudly enough for Percy to hear, "Perfect!! Thank you for calling, Nancy. I'll be in touch." And with that, Stephanie Anderson hung up the phone, returned to take Her place on the settee, lowered Herself onto the pink cushion and smoothed her lacy satin slip as She sat down. Then, crossing Her legs, She daintily took the four-inch lacy hem between her forefingers, and draped it carefully over Her crossed legs. Percy slipped away into the dark corner of the main hall, processing what he had just witnessed, and asking himself, "Nancy? Who is 'Nancy?' I remember that name from somewhere..."