by Ingrid Thoft
“Your bodyguard looks unhappy,” she commented.
“I am not a good client,” Fina admitted. “I don’t like having someone hanging around.”
“I suppose temporary inconvenience is better than permanent injury.”
Fina paused her fork midway to her mouth. “When you put it that way, it sounds so reasonable.”
When they parted, Fina promised she’d be in touch. She wanted to ditch Chad, but tried to keep Ceci’s comment in mind. She wasn’t put off by the idea of a physical fight, but she’d had a cast on her wrist over the summer and not being able to bathe herself was a nightmare. She conjured up the image of sponge baths and greasy hair and reluctantly unlocked the passenger door for her companion.
As they made their way to Nadine’s neighborhood, Fina kept coming back to Ceci’s remark about making Chloe do things when she was younger. Unlike Ceci, Carl still controlled his children using a variety of tactics, including thinly veiled bribes and threats. He held things over his children’s heads to force them to behave, and Fina had tried to turn the tables when she threatened to expose Rand’s misdeeds. She wasn’t proud of it, but she was desperate. Rand was also desperate, and she had to wonder: Was he holding something over their father?
• • •
Evan wasn’t home, so Fina couldn’t return the boxes of files, and Ronnie wasn’t around, either. His wife, Mary, suggested she swing by the local firehouse, where he was wont to hang out.
“You need to stay in the car for this one,” Fina told Chad.
He shook his head. “What’s the point of having me if I’m not providing protection?”
“No one is going to attack me in a fire station, and if they do, I’ll have EMTs right there to provide care.”
“You have an excuse for everything.”
“I prefer to think of them as reasons, not excuses.”
The station was a two-story structure fronted with three enormous garage doors and a flagpole flying the Stars and Stripes and a POW/MIA flag. Fina stepped inside and nearly collided with a firefighter.
“Is Ronnie McCaffrey around?” Fina asked.
He pointed down the hallway. “He’s in the lounge.”
She followed the sounds of laughter and TV and arrived at a space that looked like a tired living room. There were two big couches on which three firefighters were lounging, watching ESPN. A table anchored the other side of the room. Two firefighters sat at it with Ronnie McCaffrey, the only person other than Fina who was wearing civilian clothing.
Conversation quieted when she entered the room, and Ronnie looked up at her.
“I’m really sorry to interrupt, Ronnie. Do you have a minute?”
“Ronnie, what are you up to?!” one of the guys hooted. “Wait until Mary hears.”
“Mary sent me,” Fina said with a wide smile.
There were a couple of whistles and comments, and Ronnie grinned and pushed back from the table. “All right, that’s enough. I can’t help it if the rest of you are losers,” he said.
He gestured for Fina to follow him down the hallway and into the garage where the trucks were parked. He steered her to a ragtag group of office chairs off to the side.
“What can I do for you?” he asked once they were seated.
“Just a couple of quick questions. Sorry to interrupt your visit.”
“It’s okay. Any news on Nadine?”
“There are some leads, but nothing concrete. I see that Evan and Molly are back in the house.”
“Yup. I think it’s good for them, being back in the neighborhood.”
“Definitely. Molly must have missed her friends.”
He shook his head. “I know everybody breaks up these days, but it’s terrible for a kid to have to live in two places.”
“How long have you and your wife been together?” Fina asked.
“Forty-one years.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
He looked at her. “It’s worth it.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s a relief to Evan that he and Molly are back for good.”
Ronnie shrugged, but didn’t respond.
“Evan gave me the minutes from the neighborhood association meetings,” Fina said. “I think it might be the greatest neighborhood in the whole city.”
He smiled. “I think so.”
“How long have you lived there?”
“Forty years. These days, young people talk about starter homes, but I don’t see the point of moving around. What? So you can buy new furniture?”
“I guess. My parents like to move around a lot. They always want something fancier or bigger.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. It’s an empty nest before you know it; why get more space?”
“I bet people think twice about moving out of your neighborhood,” she said.
He nodded. “It’s definitely one of the best in the city.”
“In the meeting minutes,” Fina said, shifting her weight in the broken-down chair, “it seemed like Nadine was kind of a pain.”
Ronnie folded his arms across his chest. “She could be opinionated.”
“That must have been frustrating.”
“We always worked through it.”
“I saw that she was unhappy about the sky lanterns that you lit for New Year’s. She worried about them being a fire hazard or creating litter?”
“Fire’s scary to a lot of people,” Ronnie said.
“And she complained about the food options at the holiday party?”
“It all worked out.”
“I guess some people are just killjoys,” Fina noted.
He pushed himself out of the chair. “Was there anything else?”
“Nope. That’s it.”
He walked Fina to the door and pulled it closed behind her.
Most people, given the chance, spilled a little dirt. Ronnie’s equanimity suggested that either he was an extremely nice man or a very tight-lipped one.
• • •
“Can you turn that down?” Christa snapped. Her husband, Paul, looked at her and reached out to silence the car radio.
“Try to relax. You’re going to stress her out,” he said, glancing at McKenna in the backseat.
Christa turned in the seat and looked at her daughter. “She doesn’t seem stressed to me.” The girl was watching the scenery go by, humming a tune.
They pulled into a visitor’s parking space and followed the signs to the admissions office.
“Remember to look people in the eye and shake their hands,” Christa told McKenna.
“I know, Mom. You already told me that.”
A long staircase led to a green quadrangle bordered by gray stone buildings. Christa took a deep breath and admired the scene. It looked like a university, the kind of place where the leaders of tomorrow would debate lofty ideas and craft groundbreaking theories. She reached for Paul’s hand, and they walked to the main entrance.
During McKenna’s interview, Christa and Paul were left to wait in an anteroom. Paul flipped through copies of the alumnae magazine, but Christa couldn’t keep still. She paced the small space and glanced at her phone, as if it might provide an update on the activities in the office next door.
“I’m worried that you’re getting your hopes up,” Paul said after watching her do another circuit of the room. He tossed the magazine he was scanning onto the side table.
“Of course my hopes are up. Aren’t yours?”
“You know what I mean. I want McKenna to get in and be able to go here, but if she doesn’t, it’s okay.”
“Well, of course you think it’s okay. You’ve only got one job; I’ve got three between work, the girls, and managing McKenna’s education.”
He sighed. “Let’s not do this now.”
“I’m not say
ing that you don’t work hard, Paul. I know you do. And I know that night school is incredibly demanding, but at least you get a moment to yourself.”
“We talked about this. I can take a semester off.”
“No. Let’s just get it done. The sooner you finish, the sooner I’ll get some relief.”
“If this doesn’t happen”—he gestured to the room—“we’re going to have to figure out a way to manage.”
“I know.” She looked out the window at the green space. It was the break between classes, and students were making their way across the grass. They were laughing and bumping into one another. They looked so carefree.
What was that like? Christa wondered.
NINETEEN
Fina knocked on Frank and Peg’s front door, Chad right behind her on the front steps. She could feel his breath on her neck.
Frank opened the door and greeted her with a look of surprise.
“Since when do you wait to be invited in?”
“Since I have a guest with me.”
“Please come in,” Frank said, and stepped back. He raised an eyebrow to Fina.
“This is Chad, and this is Frank,” she told the men. “Could I speak with you privately?” Fina asked Frank.
“Do you want me to clear the house?” Chad asked.
Frank chortled, and Fina pulled him down the hall to the master bedroom. It was a small space with a three-piece furniture suite and a headboard shaped like a scallop shell.
“I’m going crazy,” she confessed.
“Is this a date?” A grin curled the edges of his mouth.
“Hilarious. He’s my security detail.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently, there’s a contract to give me a beatdown.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “Well, that’s not good.”
“No kidding, but I’m beginning to think that I’d rather be beaten up than have a shadow for another minute.”
“What possessed you to hire him? It’s very unlike you.”
Fina sat down on the end of the bed. “I don’t know. It seemed like I should.”
“Since when do you do what you should?”
“Since this feels different. Someone is going to a lot of trouble to make my life difficult. It feels more organized than my past troubles.”
“Sure, but when that guy jumped you in the supermarket parking lot, that seemed organized.” Frank took a seat next to her.
Fina shrugged.
“And when he ran you off the Pike, and you flipped your car, a fair amount of planning went into that.”
She massaged her temples. “Where’s this going exactly?”
“Peg would kill me for saying this, but I’m not convinced this is so different from all the other times.”
“True.”
He looked at her. “So what’s really going on?”
Fina considered his question. “It’s Cristian,” Fina admitted. “I feel like I’m supposed to do things differently because of our current status.”
“Which is?”
“Dating? Involved? More than what it used to be.”
“So if you weren’t dating, you wouldn’t have hired your friend out there?” He gestured toward the living room.
“I doubt it. He’s complicating things, not making them easier.”
“Are you talking about Cristian or Chad?”
Fina was silent.
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Frank said, “but you need to do what you need to do.”
She digested his words. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
“Don’t tell Peg about this conversation,” Frank cautioned as he followed her down the hall.
“It’s our secret.”
“Chad,” Fina said as he stood up from the couch, “you’re fired.”
• • •
One and a half days. Not even thirty-six hours. That was Fina’s limit for having a bodyguard. She’d always known that she was independent and liked to work by herself, but her brief experience with Chad made her realize just how deep her free spirit ran. Maybe in another life she was an Aboriginal male on a perpetual walkabout.
Back at home, reveling in her freedom, she answered a call from Matthew while lying on the couch.
“Hey.”
“Hey. There’s going to be a family thing at the club, and I need you there.”
“What kind of family thing?”
“Just dinner.”
“When?” she asked.
“Tomorrow night,” Matthew said. “It was just going to be me, Sydney, Rachel, and Mom and Dad, but I’m having second thoughts.”
“As you should.”
“Can you come?”
“Will Rand be there?” She closed her eyes as if to ward off his response.
“I assume Mom invited him.”
“For you, I’ll be there. I’m dying to meet the woman who’s going to make an honest man out of you.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Before you hang up, I have a question.”
“Okay.”
“What do you think is the worst thing that Dad’s ever done?”
Matthew was silent for a moment. “What kind of question is that?”
“It’s an odd one, I’ll give you that, but I’m curious.”
“I have no idea. That’s not something I want to contemplate, and I don’t think you should, either.”
“Why not?” Fina struggled into a sitting position, the conversation demanding her full attention.
“Because that kind of speculation can’t lead anywhere good.”
“Please, you make your career on speculation.”
“I’ve got to go. Let’s not continue this bizarre conversation later.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize it would be such an upsetting topic.”
“Good-bye, Fina.”
Matthew and Scotty were ruthless lawyers, but when it came to family, they had blind spots. Fina wished she suffered from the same affliction, but she was never good at putting things out of her mind.
It was a trait that made her good at her job and bad at keeping the home fires burning.
• • •
Fina made the trip the next morning to CRC eager to learn more about the leadership committee meetings. Unfortunately, neither Greg nor Gabby were there, according to Betty, so Fina returned to the parking lot, ruing the wasted trip.
Music emanating from a car one row away caught her attention, and she glanced toward it. Fina could see two passengers in the front seat and decided to take a closer look. This wasn’t high school, after all; who would be hanging out in the parking lot blasting music?
Fina slowly approached the Ford Fiesta and laid eyes on Gabby Gatchell and a young man. They were facing each other, laughing and smiling. Fina crouched down behind a nearby car and watched. Gabby reached over and touched the man’s shoulder and flipped her hair.
Fina couldn’t imagine that Pastor Greg would approve of the scene, and she surreptitiously snapped some photos with her phone. She waited, hoping she’d be rewarded with a make-out session, but nothing materialized. Five minutes after she arrived on the scene, the passenger-side door opened, flooding the parking lot with a cheesy love song.
Fina waddled around the car on her haunches so as not to reveal her presence. Gabby’s laughter bubbled through the air, and she exchanged words with the driver, but Fina couldn’t make them out. A moment later, the door slammed, and Gabby sauntered back to the front door of the church. Fina scooted out and snapped a picture of the young man’s license plate before he roared out of the parking lot.
’Cause nothing says cool like hanging with the pastor’s wife in your Ford Fiesta hatchback.
• • •
Fina offered to
buy Cristian lunch, but he’d already eaten. He was interested in an ice cream cone—one of his few vices—so they planned to meet at Mirabelle’s, an ice cream parlor near Mass Ave. First, she called her contact at the Registry of Motor Vehicles and left a message asking for a callback. She wanted an ID on Gabby’s youthful friend, but it wasn’t a favor she wanted to commit to voice mail. The request for the plate information wasn’t legal, but Fina couldn’t worry about that. She’d never get anything done if she got caught up in legalities and ethics. Canoodling wasn’t illegal, but if Gabby was misbehaving, it might help convince Chloe that the Gatchells weren’t holier-than-thou after all.
After claiming a parking spot a few streets away from Mirabelle’s, she fell into step behind a group of Goth kids. Fina firmly believed that teenagers should be free to express themselves during those difficult years, but she just didn’t get the Goth thing. Were they trying to look dead? Like vampires? Were they purposefully blunting the edges of their genders? And didn’t they get hot under all those layers of heavy black clothing and pancake makeup?
Cristian was waiting for her inside Mirabelle’s, contemplating the chalkboard menu mounted overhead.
“You’re studying it as if you might actually order something different,” Fina said, resting her chin on his shoulder.
“I just wanted to see if anything new caught my eye.”
Fina looked at the options. “Oooh. Black sesame. That sounds like something you’d enjoy.”
He shook his head and stepped up to the counter, motioning for her to order. Fina got two scoops of salted caramel with jimmies, and Cristian opted for his usual pistachio.
“Where’s your protection?” he asked, pulling napkins from a dispenser.
“That’s part of why I wanted to see you.”
“Do you mind walking?” he asked. “I need some air.”
Armed with their cones and napkins, they walked in the direction of Commonwealth Ave and the grassy strip that bisected it. They focused on their ice cream until they arrived at the Boston Women’s Memorial and took a seat on a bench with minimal bird droppings.
“So you don’t have a bodyguard because . . .” Cristian prompted.
“I tried, Cristian, I really did, but I couldn’t do it.”
