by Ingrid Thoft
“No,” the boy said evenly.
Cristian sighed.
Fina stuck a fork into a green bean and put it in her mouth. “That’s so good,” she said, washing it down with a swig of beer.
“See?” Cristian said. “Fina likes them.”
“Ina.” The boy pushed his plate in her direction. “Eat mine.”
Cristian sighed.
“He’s very generous,” Fina noted, mussing his hair.
“Okay, buddy, but no sweets if you don’t eat your beans.”
Cristian rose and started clearing the dishes from the table. When his back was turned, Matteo crammed the two beans into his mouth and chewed laboriously.
“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Fina asked.
“Beans are yucky!” he said, sliding off his chair and running into the living room.
“I finished all my beans,” Fina said, rising and leaning against the counter as Cristian rinsed the dishes. “What kind of sweets do I get?”
Cristian grinned. “What do you have in mind?”
“Actual sweets,” Fina clarified. “That wasn’t a double entendre.”
He reached into a cabinet and took out a bag of Oreos. “This is all I’ve got.”
“It’ll do.” She grabbed one and twisted apart the two layers of cookie. “I interviewed Evan Quaynor last night.”
“Yeah? What’d you think?”
“That church certainly did a number on his marriage.”
“That church seems to be very polarizing.”
“That’s why I don’t go to church,” Fina said. “It’s so divisive.”
“Uh-huh. I assume you’ve spoken with Christa Jackson?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your take on her?” Cristian asked.
Fina cocked an eyebrow. “Now you want to share information?”
“I’m interested in your expert opinion.”
“Well, she was surprisingly frank about Nadine’s less than appealing qualities.”
“According to Nadine’s mother,” Cristian said, “the cousins had a falling-out.”
“Christa didn’t mention that. Has anyone else confirmed it?”
“I’m working on it.”
“And what was the falling-out over?” she asked.
“Don’t know that, either.”
“Let me guess: You’re telling me so that I find out and report back to you,” Fina said.
“I’m just trying to be cooperative.”
“Sure you are.”
“Teo, come get your cookies!” Cristian put two cookies and a glass of milk on the table. “After this, it’s time for your bath.”
The boy sat with his legs wrapped around the chair legs, his head nodding to some secret rhythm. He dunked a cookie into his milk, pulling it out only when it was limp and soaked.
“I should get going,” Fina said, leaning over and giving Matteo a kiss. “Bye, buddy. See you soon.”
“Bye, Ina,” he said, his open mouth a mishmash of black cookie and white filling.
“You don’t want to stay awhile?” Cristian asked.
“I’ve got work to do, but thank you for dinner.”
He followed her to the door, where they shared a long kiss.
“Talk to you soon,” Cristian said as Fina started down the hallway.
Her recent interactions with Cristian had been stilted and awkward. The lines they’d worked so hard to draw over the past ten years were starting to bleed, and Fina didn’t know where she stood—as his date or as his colleague.
She also didn’t know how she felt about his domestic situation. She loved Matteo, but a more serious relationship with Cristian also included a more serious role in the little boy’s life.
Aunt Fina was one thing, but Stepmom Fina? That was a whole other kettle of fish.
• • •
The weekend brought little progress in the investigation, which Fina found frustrating, but she supposed a forced respite wasn’t a completely bad thing. It had taken some time and some phone calls, but she’d discovered that former CRC member Kyle Roady hadn’t moved away like Chloe thought. He was living in Medford and working at H. M. Brody’s, a rug and upholstery repair company in Brighton. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be in until Monday, so Fina filled her time with family events.
Her nephews played in enough soccer games to rival the qualifying rounds of the World Cup, and Fina provided her assistance while Scotty and Haley baked snickerdoodles, her brother’s specialty. Her assistance entailed licking various bowls and beaters and testing for doneness, but everybody contributes in their own way.
Fina considered attending CRC on Sunday, but quickly came to her senses. She doubted she would glean any new information by sitting through a service, and it would certainly irritate her. The Lord designated Sunday as a day of rest, and there was nothing restful about listening to Pastor Greg pontificate.
Instead, she met up with Risa at the high school pool.
“You really do spend all your time at sporting events,” commented Fina when she took a seat next to her friend in the concrete bleachers overlooking the pool. A swim meet was about to get under way, and the pool deck was buzzing with activity. Tween swimmers were outfitted in snug suits and various whistles blew through the space.
“A lot of parents do.”
“I don’t think Elaine did.”
Risa arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. Her ash-brown hair was cut stylishly short and diamond studs winked from her earlobes. “You sure about that?”
“I don’t remember her on the sidelines of my field hockey or lacrosse games.”
Risa opened her large purse and dug around for a minute.
“Please tell me you have snacks,” Fina said. “I didn’t fuel up for this event.”
“Watching a swim meet?” She handed a small Tupperware container to Fina. “Yeah, you’re going to burn a lot of calories sitting on your butt.”
“Yum,” Fina exclaimed, examining the contents.
“Those are peanut butter brownies, and those are grasshopper.” She handed her a napkin. Risa was a gourmet cook and baker extraordinaire, and Fina was a frequent beneficiary of her wares.
“So what makes you so sure my mom attended our events?” Fina asked, licking chocolate ganache from a finger.
“I don’t know if she was around for your stuff, but Melanie always made it sound like she was very involved with Rand’s activities.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. As far as she’s concerned, he’s the Second Coming.”
Risa considered that for a moment. “He kind of was, when you think about it.”
A whistle cut through the noise on the pool deck, and groups of kids lined up at the end of the lanes. Fina watched a few shake out their legs and windmill their arms before ascending the starting blocks. Crouched down, poised over the water, they resembled bugs with their shiny cap-covered heads and goggled eyes.
“What do you mean?” Fina asked, before taking another bite.
“Do you guys ever talk about Josie?” Risa asked, her question punctuated by the starter pistol.
“No. It’s an off-limits topic.” Josie’s brief life and shocking death cast a pall over the Ludlow family history, but it was a forbidden topic.
Risa pulled off a corner of peanut butter brownie and put it in her mouth. She chewed slowly. “I’m not surprised, but it’s too bad. Hearing about that time might give you some insight into your parents.”
“You have insight into my parents?”
“I know what Melanie heard, either from your mom or from Rand.”
“And what was that?” Fina inhaled the sharp tang of the chlorine-scented water.
“The sense I got was that your mother went into a deep depression after Josie died and Rand’s birth helped get her out of it. That’s
what I meant when I said ‘Second Coming.’ Rand brought your mom back from the edge.”
“Uh-huh.” Fina savored the sweet and salty tang of peanut butter.
“If Rand gave her a reason to keep going, it’s no wonder he can do no wrong in her eyes.”
“Say I agree with that, just for argument’s sake,” Fina said. “How do you explain her treatment of me?”
Risa’s gaze drifted down to the pool, and she watched the swimmers’ progress. She was silent.
“Aha!” Fina said. “You can’t explain it.”
“As a parent—”
“Here we go.”
“Just listen,” Risa insisted, patting Fina’s hand. “As a parent, there comes a moment when you have to accept the child you have, not the one you wanted or the one you expected.”
Fina loosened another brownie from the container.
“If you’re able to do this, life is much better. If you’re not, and I’m not suggesting it’s easy, then life can be a struggle.”
“So I’m not the child my mother wanted? She wanted my sister and ended up with me?”
Risa gave her a pitying smile.
“Just to clarify,” Fina said, swallowing a bite, “is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“Does understanding your mother’s behavior make you feel worse?” Risa asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe? You’re saying that my mother wanted Josie and will never be happy without her. That I’m a poor substitute.”
Risa cringed. “It sounds awful when you put it like that.”
“How would you put it?”
“I guess I’m saying that you’re always unhappy with your mother, and wouldn’t it be better if you at least understood why she is the way she is?”
“And accept who she is. Isn’t that the part you’re leaving out?”
“For your own well-being, yes, you might want to consider accepting that.”
“You sound like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Not your situation, but remember, Fina, I was adopted. I’ve had many occasions to contemplate why mothers behave the way they do.”
“And you have kids.”
“And I have kids and am reminded daily of my shortcomings and inadequacies in the parenting department.”
“Sounds fantastic. Sign me up.”
Risa grinned.
“Okay. So what would you do,” Fina proposed, “if one of your kids joined a religious organization of which you didn’t approve.”
“As an adult?”
A swimmer slapped the surface of the water in triumph. Fina couldn’t believe the race was already over.
“Yeah. Say Jordan decided to become a Pentecostal and give them all his money?”
“I haven’t ever considered that possibility, but thanks for adding to my list of parental worries.”
Fina smiled. “Off the top of your head, what would you do?”
“I would try to convince him otherwise, but once he’s an adult, it’s up to him.”
“And there’s the rub.”
Risa shook the Tupperware container in Fina’s direction.
“No, thanks,” Fina said. “They were delicious, but I’m good.”
“I think Jordan’s race is next,” Risa said, tucking the brownies back into her bag. She waved to get her son’s attention, and he responded with a quick gesture before turning his attention back to his coach. “Haley stopped by the other day. Actually, she’s been spending a lot of time at my house.”
“Really? Any particular reason? I mean, in addition to your amazing food?”
“No. I love having her over, but I can’t help but think she should be spending more time at her own house.”
“She’s having a tough time. Rand is back.”
Risa cocked her head. “I would have thought she would welcome his return.”
Fina contemplated, not for the first time, sharing Rand’s dirty little secret with Risa. But when the starter pistol rang out, and Risa rose to cheer on her son, Fina decided it wasn’t the moment.
“Teenagers,” Fina said over the crowd’s cheers. “They’re a mystery.”
THIRTEEN
On Monday morning, Fina pulled into the parking area of Kyle Roady’s workplace, H. M. Brody’s Carpet and Upholstery. There was a door marked OFFICE and two large garage doors, one of which was open. Fina started across the parking lot and passed a man with a large rolled carpet on his shoulder in conversation with a woman in yoga pants and a shiny, fitted parka.
Fina stepped through the open garage door and was struck by the noise echoing through the vast space. Workers were on their hands and knees on the open second story, performing some kind of rug repair. In the far corner, there was an enormous machine tended by three guys wearing headphones and safety glasses. A nearby area filled with carpet sample books and remnants acted as a showroom of sorts.
Fina entered the office area on the other side of a bank of windows. A man sat behind a desk, and two other desks were empty. He rose and came to the counter.
“Can I help you?”
“Wow. It is noisy and cold out there.”
“Sure is.”
“I’m looking for Kyle Roady. Do you know where I might find him?”
Fina knew that she had already found him—thank you, Facebook—but was curious to see if he would fess up.
“Who are you?” A small vein on his eyelid twitched.
“My name is Fina Ludlow, and I’m a private investigator.” She handed him her ID. “I have some questions about Covenant Rising Church.”
He returned the ID. “Sorry. He’s not here right now, but I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
Fina folded her hands on the counter. “Kyle, I’m not working for the church. I’m investigating the church and have some specific questions about the leadership committee. I promise I’m not going to get you in trouble or make your life difficult.”
His shoulders sagged. He reached down and pulled a release so a portion of the counter could be tipped up. “Come on back.”
She followed him to his desk and took a seat. “I’ve been hired to look into the church before a member makes a large donation. It’s just standard due diligence. My understanding is that you’re no longer a member. Do you keep in touch with any of the members?”
He shook his head. “No.” He was wearing a long-sleeved knit cotton shirt with a collar, dark-wash jeans, and a braided leather belt.
Fina decided to hold off on mentioning Nadine.
“Which member is making the donation?” he asked.
“Chloe Renard.”
Kyle smiled weakly. “I always liked Chloe.”
“Why does Chloe think you moved away?” Fina asked.
He shrugged. “I guess she just assumed that when I stopped going to church.”
“Why did you stop going?”
He picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers. Fina waited while he gathered his thoughts.
“I had a crisis of faith.”
Fina examined him. “What does that mean exactly?”
Kyle took a deep breath. “It means that everything I thought I knew or believed, I began to doubt. The things I took for granted no longer made sense.”
Fina nodded. “That is a crisis.”
“Are you religious?” he asked.
“No, but I understand what you’re talking about.” Her mind moved to Haley. “I’ve questioned what I thought I knew, and I’ve tried to make peace with some ugly truths.”
Kyle nodded. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“It can be,” she admitted. “I know this is a very personal subject, and I don’t want to pry,” Fina said, as a preemptive disclaimer. “Can I ask if it was the theology that caused the crisis, or your fellow members?”
“It was both. I was drawn to CRC because it was so welcoming, and they do lots of projects in the community. I liked being of service, and I liked that someone just told me where to show up to make a positive contribution. It felt like a no-brainer.”
“But?”
“But then I felt like certain groups were being marginalized. I don’t support homosexuality, but I don’t think people should be excluded.”
Fina didn’t support homosexuality any more than she supported heterosexuality. She didn’t see how other people’s sex lives were any of her business. And really, who wanted to contemplate other people’s sex lives? Either get busy with your own or find a hobby.
“Did you voice your concerns?” she asked.
“Initially, but after a while, I just kept quiet.”
“There were no like minds?”
“No one would admit that. If you had a differing opinion, you were seen as being disloyal, not truly committed to the church.”
“Was that stated explicitly?”
“Eventually, but at first, it just got really uncomfortable. People gave me the cold shoulder, and I wasn’t included the way I had been before. My opinions were dismissed or ignored by the other members of the leadership committee.”
“Did the committee have any real oversight?”
“Of the accounts we were privy to,” he said.
“The committee wasn’t privy to all the accounts?”
Kyle glanced out toward the factory floor. “I don’t know anything for sure. I’m just saying that the math didn’t always make sense.”
“What did the other committee members make of that?”
He looked at his shoes. “I don’t know.”
“You may not have heard, but one of your former committee members recently passed away.” Fina wasn’t usually a fan of employing euphemisms for death, but Kyle seemed like he could use a gentler approach.
He looked genuinely surprised. “Who?”
“Nadine Quaynor.”
“Nadine died?”
Fina nodded.
“What happened?”
“She was found in her home. The cause of death is unclear.”
Kyle was quiet.
“I heard that Nadine didn’t get along with some of the other committee members,” Fina said, taking a leap.
