“I’m touched that you considered me,” she said, handing over the cookies. What was it with her and baking? Now she could use it to summon the end of relationships she hadn’t even known were a possibility.
He moved to leave, and she followed, to see him out. “About your friend and Paul Kirkland,” he said as they reached the front door. “The friend isn’t you, is it?” She could feel color rushing into her cheeks. In front of a detective. Damn it. She couldn’t have him think she was passing him over for Paul.
“I’m not interested in him,” she said quickly. “But it might be the other way around.” Come to think of it, her initial relief aside, she really was surprised the detective didn’t know about the Second Date Update call. It had been aired with only the thinnest veil of discretion. What else could the authorities, even the most earnest of them, have missed?
He looked at her for a long moment. “In that case,” he said, “between us, as friends? Since you asked…”
“Friends,” she repeated, nodding.
“If I did have a gut feeling, it wouldn’t necessarily be that Kristin and the twins are gone because he put them in the ground. But it might be that the reason they’re gone has more to do with him being who he is than it has to do with money.”
“And who do you think he is?”
“I can only say who I think he’s not: The good doctor who means well but is wrapped up in his work, the prince charming who swoops in and saves the day when she’s widowed and pregnant. Those descriptions don’t add up for me, at least not in such simple terms. I’d be careful.”
She knew that in some ways she’d been horribly selfish lately. But in other ways maybe she should have thought of herself a bit more. Or at least in a higher regard.
“I was a terrible witness for you,” she blurted out. “I remember so little of that night—only flashes, mostly of things I said, not anyone else. I was embarrassed to admit it, when you questioned me…”
“I got the gist.”
“I hope I didn’t let Kristin down. Or you.”
He touched her arm. “If you’re going to have too much wine, from an officer’s standpoint a neighbor’s backyard is the perfect place to do it. No rowdiness, no driving. You didn’t let anybody down. You didn’t do a thing wrong.”
“Well. Thanks for trying so hard to find her. And the twins. Nothing is the same without them.”
She opened the door, and he started down the walk. She used to watch Abby and Aaron from here, pedaling their bikes as Kristin trailed behind them, and think how cozy it was. How quaint. Now she thought of Paul packing up the remnants of their lives there. Clara revealing her tragic, traumatized side. Hallie launching an underground newspaper. Randi and Rhoda holding court in their shop. The neighborhood really was a different place now. What was it Randi had called the energy? Off balance. She supposed scrutiny could do that to a group of people.
“Detective?” He turned, and she saw that he somehow already had a half-eaten cookie in his hand. He shrugged guiltily, and she laughed. “I know it’s not likely, but call me if you ever leave the force.”
He took a few steps back toward her. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s not likely.” He grinned mischievously. “But call me if you ever bake too many of these again. They’re delicious.”
He was standing close enough now that she caught a whiff of his cologne—something run-of-the-mill, maybe an inexpensive drugstore spray, but still nice. He caught her hand in his, and before she even registered his touch brought it to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. She couldn’t help smiling as she headed back inside.
It was an oddly gallant end to a mess of a day.
37
Items in the Lost and Found will not be held indefinitely. Please take inventory of your child’s belongings daily, as well as of your own (coffee carriers, keys…). We cannot be held responsible for anything gone missing, or for authenticating claims of ownership.
—Memo to all Circle of Learning parents
Halloween had never looked so friendly as it did at the Circle of Learning. The lobby was filled with artwork assembled with a level of care that Clara would have been hard-pressed to replicate with her lone one-year-old underfoot, let alone a whole building full of toddlers. Maddie loved nothing more than to rip paper, no matter whom the paper belonged to—and thus Thomas was understandably losing his enthusiasm for art while his sister was on the premises. But here, the youngest children had made orange paint handprints that the teachers had cleverly transformed with black marker into five little fingertip pumpkins sitting on a fence. The preschoolers had pressed googly eyes and pipe cleaner hair onto silly monster shapes formed from homemade playdough, which had then been carefully arranged in a miniature pumpkin patch shelved in a Plexiglas display case. Clara smiled at the few that had more eyes than hair. Glittery bats hung from the ceiling, and in the corner a few bales of real hay framed a plywood mural of sunflowers with holes for the children to poke their faces through.
Clara was overcome with affection for the place in spite of herself. As much as she’d joked with Kristin about the over-the-top policies—why not let kids be kids and eat a little Halloween candy?—the truth was, she loved the school. Thomas had been well cared for within these walls, and as a first-time mom whose own mother was several states away, so had she. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d turned to the preschool teachers for advice the way other parents consulted pediatricians. Do you think this is just a heat rash? Is it normal for his letters to be backward sometimes? And the Circle of Learning’s coordinated cuteness eased some of the pressure to achieve a perfect Pinterest parenthood, freeing her to focus on her own kind of less photogenic but never wavering love.
It had been easier to be angry with Pam than to feel hurt or betrayed. But now, she felt none of those things. Only determined.
Miss Sally was standing just inside the office, laughing with the director, when Clara stepped in. She immediately recognized this as one of their “Silly Hat Days”—Pam was in a wizard’s cap while Miss Sally wore a crown of flowers, ribbons trailing her shoulders. Thomas loved these days, even though he always wore the same thing—his red plastic fireman’s cap, really not very silly at all. At the sight of her, Miss Sally’s smile brightened even as Pam’s faltered.
“Clara! Oh, Miss Lizzie and the kids have all been missing Thomas. How is he? Will he be ready to come back soon?”
Ready to come back? Clara frowned. Had Pam not had the decency to tell the staff she’d asked Thomas to leave?
Never mind. It was better, perhaps, if she hadn’t. Clara didn’t want any lingering tension with anyone. A lack of communication might work in her favor if she played along.
Clara matched the wattage of her smile. “Absolutely. He wouldn’t miss next week’s Halloween party for the world! And neither would I. The lobby looks amazing.”
Sally clapped her hands together in delight. “You know, I think I have a few extra dough monster kits, if you’d like to take a couple home to him and Maddie? You’d just have to watch that she doesn’t try to mouth the tiny eyes.”
“Really? They’d love that!” She wasn’t being polite. They would love it.
“I’ll run and get them. Have him bring his monster when he comes back, and we’ll add it to the display.” She disappeared through the doorway in a flourish of rustling ribbons, and only then did Clara take the seat Pam was gesturing toward with barely masked reluctance.
Clara perched on the edge of the chair, not wanting to seem too comfortable. “You probably gathered I’m here to tell you Thomas will be back next week.” She held her smile.