by Traci DePree
She heard a sigh and a sniffle.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said.
“I’m sorry I reacted so strongly,” Livvy said in a quiet voice. “I’ve been sitting here feeling just awful.”
“I should’ve thought before I spoke. I know that James is a good guy. It was wrong of me to assume otherwise—”
“No,” Livvy interrupted. “That’s where I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was judgmental of me to think that my children are above something like that. Everyone has weaknesses. My boys could very well make those choices too—and nobody is beyond forgiveness.”
Kate smiled at her friend’s words, thankful that she could still call her friend.
“I actually asked James about it when I got off the phone,” Livvy said.
“You didn’t.”
“Not in so many words. I asked him if he and Anne have been tempted...He was mortified at first, but then he told me he wouldn’t do anything like that. He knows how important it is to respect her and to respect his future wife.”
Relief flooded over Kate. “That’s good news.”
“I also asked for suggestions about how to understand what kids these days care about. He suggested you open a FriendsForever account to connect with the kids in the youth group.”
“When you mentioned it before, I wondered the same thing,” Kate said, not sure she felt comfortable with the idea of joining such a group. How would the kids react to having an old lady in their “space”? And how much would they be willing to share with her?
“I monitor our boys’ online activity pretty closely on that site, and it all seems pretty clean. I mean, they are still teenagers, so you have to take some of the things they say with a grain of salt. But nowadays, it’s how kids keep in touch with each other. They’re constantly chatting online. They always know what’s going on with each other. Hey, even Barbara Walters has a MySpace account. That’s a similar site.”
“Could you help me set it up?”
While Kate fared pretty well on the Internet, she knew her limits, and Livvy was a pro at such things.
“Stop by the library tomorrow morning. I’ll be happy to help.”
Chapter Six
The library had been open for half an hour when Kate came in the next morning. Not a single patron was there except Kate. Livvy was nowhere in sight. Kate stood in front of the horseshoe-shaped counter near the front door and glanced at Livvy’s office. A placard on the door read “Olivia Jenner” and below that were the words “Head Librarian.”
Kate poked her head through the doorway to see if Livvy was sitting at her desk, but she wasn’t there either. Deciding that she must be upstairs at the high-speed computers, Kate climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Sure enough, Kate found Livvy staring at a monitor. She glanced at Kate and offered a smile of greeting. Kate was warmed by the gesture. Livvy patted the second chair she’d pulled up alongside her.
“I thought I’d get a head start on this,” Livvy said. “I have a toddler reading hour in half an hour.”
Kate nodded and gazed at the screen, where her name, e-mail address, and home address had already been filled out. Livvy hit Submit and waited.
“You’ve got it all set up,” Kate said, impressed.
“Actually, you need to go into your e-mail account and click on the link they just sent you that ensures you are who you said you were.”
Kate did as she was instructed, and soon had the site back on the screen. Livvy hit another button to upload a photo of Kate to the profile.
“Where did you get the picture?” She leaned in to examine it more closely. It was a close-up of her at the diner, a cup of steaming tea in her hands.
“I have my ways,” Livvy said with a raised eyebrow. “There’s still a lot to do.” She pointed to the screen. “You need to complete your profile and build a network of friends. See, here is where you can invite people to join your FriendsForever circle.” She clicked around the screen, showing Kate the many features of the site, including photographs, private e-mail, and a bulletin board where people could type public messages to one another.
Before long, Livvy excused herself to get back to work, and Kate invited kids from the youth group as well as any others she could think of to be her “friends.” Once they accepted her invitation, she would be able to chat with them about their day, see their photographs, and post messages.
Brenna Phillips must have been in a computer lab at the high-school library because she accepted the invitation minutes after Kate sent it. She posted “Great to see you here, Mrs. Hanlon” on Kate’s bulletin board.
Kate typed, “What are you up to?” and hit Send.
Within moments, Brenna’s response came. “I’m bored at the library. Marlee says hi.”
Kate’s heart went out to the girl whom she’d learned so much about over the past two days. A minute later, Marlee had accepted her invitation.
Her message read, “RU OK?”
Kate stared at the letters for a second before she realized that they meant “Are you okay?”
She typed, “Yes, I’m just fine. Why?”
“Not many adults come on here” was the reply.
“I thought this would be a good way to get to know the youth group better now that my husband and I are taking over for Max.” Then she had an idea. “Are you two coming on Sunday night?”
“We’ll be there,” Marlee typed, then “G2G.”
Kate would definitely have to study her Internet slang if she was going to understand what these kids were saying.
She finished her invitations, then took a few minutes to study Brenna’s and Marlee’s pages. Both were basic, listing favorite TV shows and songs, with messages back and forth to their friends. Kate decided to study them in depth later when she had more time. There was bound to be some slipup, something that might confirm her suspicions about Marlee.
Then she made her way to the library’s reference room, which was also on the second floor of the building. She decided to start with the Waters family, the other family Malcolm Dekker had mentioned.
Kate scanned the Chronicle’s indexes, searching for the name. There weren’t any newspaper articles about them, other than the lone obituary, dated only two years earlier. Kate jotted down the names of the woman’s three teenage daughters—Kim, Maureen, and Suzanne—along with their ages. According to her calculations, the youngest, Suzanne, would have been in ninth grade at the time of her mother’s death, making her a junior this year.
Then she pulled out several of the small microfiche sheets dated ten years prior and began to scan for any mention of the Jones’s tragic loss. It took several sheets before the obituary appeared on the screen.
It was dated October 4. There was a photograph of the young mother with the name “Maridee Jones” under it in bold letters. Kate read the short obituary that listed her parents; in-laws; husband David; and five-year-old Marlee, as her surviving family. She whispered the last line aloud to herself, glad there was no one else in the room. “Funeral services will be held October 6 at Faith Briar Church with interment at Mound Cemetery.” Kate printed the page.
“I know where you’re headed next,” Livvy said with a grin from the doorway.
Kate chuckled when she realized that Livvy had heard her and knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Do you have some old phone books?” Kate asked as she wrote down the information from the Jones obituary.
“Phone books?”
Kate nodded.
Livvy led her to the reference section, but the phone books there were recent. “I need old ones, three years ago to last year’s,” Kate clarified.
“Sure, I’ll go get them.”
A moment later, Livvy returned with three Copper Mill phone books and handed them to Kate.
Kate paged through the W’s in the oldest volume, then scanned the other two before looking at Livvy.
“Riley Waters had a list
ing three years ago,” she began, “but then nothing the year the mother died. Near as I can guess, they moved right after her passing.”
“Or they got an unlisted number,” Livvy suggested.
“I could understand a single mother making the number unlisted for safety reasons, but it doesn’t seem as likely for a single father. Do you have last year’s Copper Mill High yearbook?” She glanced at her notes from the microfiche.
Livvy gave her a “What are you up to now?” look, then led her to the shelves that held thirty years of Copper Mill’s yearbooks.
Kate scanned the titles for the previous year’s edition, paging through until she found the section for the sophomores, the grade Suzanne Waters, the youngest of Riley’s children, would have been in that year. Kate studied the faces. Then for good measure, she looked through both the freshman and junior sections of the book. But there was no Suzanne Waters listed.
“They moved,” she said simply, handing the book to Livvy.
“You’ve gotten good at this, haven’t you?” Livvy laughed.
“A lot of it is pure instinct.”
She tucked the obituaries into her handbag and said, “I think it’s time to see what the cemetery has to offer.”
MOUND CEMETERY on the outskirts of Copper Mill was like any cemetery in America—a quiet, peaceful place surrounded by popsicle-shaped trees as well as towering oaks. The ground was a bit wet, since spring had just arrived, so Kate stepped carefully, glad she’d worn boots.
She walked the rows of headstones, beginning in the southeast corner and working her way methodically along the rows so she wouldn’t miss any. There were headstones with crosses, but none with the telltale Celtic cross she was looking for. There were headstones with photographs of the deceased, and some with military honors. She passed row after row, then finally she saw the words she’d been looking for: “Maridee Jones—mother, wife, gone too soon.” Below were the words “Never gone from our hearts,” and beneath that was an ornate Celtic cross.
Chapter Seven
As she made her way back into town, Kate prayed for Marlee, imagining what it would be like to go through the stages of pregnancy alone as a young woman. With no one to talk to her about the changes in her body, and no one to tell her that everything would be okay, that her life wasn’t over, that she still had a life to look forward to, that a baby could be a blessing.
She made her way to the Country Diner, where she was meeting Renee Lambert and Betty Anderson to discuss their part in the afterprom planning.
Kate had been thinking of Marlee ever since she’d seen the headstone. But her thoughts turned to Arlene Jacobs too. Perhaps after school was out, she’d head to the Mercantile to see if the mortician’s niece was working.
The town gathering place, with its blue vinyl booths and blue gingham curtains, was filled with lunch patrons. The hum of their conversations filled the air. LuAnne Matthews flew from table to table.
Renee Lambert was already at a booth that looked out on the Town Green. She waved Kate over.
“Betty called and said to order without her,” Renee said. “Sounded like she was running late.”
Kisses poked his little head from the depths of her designer tote and gave a yelp of greeting as Kate sat.
“Shh,” Renee murmured, petting him and setting his bottom deeper in the tote’s depths. “I don’t know what’s up with him today. He keeps trying to get out of his tote.” She leaned down to the pooch and said in a baby voice, “Does my Little Umpkins want to run around the restaurant today?”
The dog gave her a look that clearly said he thought she was nuts, then he settled down to sleep and was soon snoring.
“Cute outfit.” Renee pointed to Kate’s sailor-blue tunic with embroidered white daisies that wove around her torso.
“Thanks,” Kate said. “It was a gift from my daughter Rebecca.”
Kate scooted farther into the booth and glanced out at the spring day. The sky had become overcast and sleepy looking. A car motored slowly up the street.
“Makes you want to take a nap, doesn’t it?” Renee said, following Kate’s glance. “That’s how I always feel when it’s cloudy like this, like I should climb back in bed and sleep for a few hours, until the sun decides to make up its mind about getting up.”
“I did that cost comparison,” Renee said, reaching into a macramé bag she carried in addition to Kisses’ domain, then pulling out a printed sheet of paper. She set the paper on the table and turned it for Kate to read. “Tony’s is five cents a slice cheaper than making it ourselves,” she went on. “Of course, it depends on the toppings and whether we would make the crust from scratch. But I based this on ready-made pizza dough at SuperMart in Pine Ridge and a regular pepperoni-and-extra-cheese pizza, which I think kids would prefer.”
Kate nodded, impressed that Renee had already completed the task. “Then Tony’s it is,” Kate said with a smile.
She leaned back as Renee grinned, obviously satisfied with herself.
LuAnne came by their booth just then. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get over here,” the plump, red-headed waitress said in her honeyed voice, looking at them over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses. “Do you want menus?”
Not waiting for an answer, she laid two of the tall menus on the table between them.
“I know what I want,” Kate said with a glance at Renee.
LuAnne took the menus back and tucked them under her arm, then pulled out her pencil and order pad.
“I’ll take the blackened-chicken salad,” Kate said. “And can I get the dressing on the side?”
LuAnne nodded and turned to Renee.
“What’s the soup today?” Renee asked.
“French onion.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Betty Anderson appeared at the booth then, a bit winded. Her cheeks were flushed, and she said, “Sorry I’m late. I had a perm job that went long.”
Betty owned Betty’s Beauty Parlor in town. She was a whirlwind of a woman, always ready with a smile and conversation. She must’ve touched up her hair recently because her roots were blond like the rest of her hair, instead of dark like the tip of a matchstick.
“Did you run to get here?” Renee asked, leaning over to look at her more closely.
LuAnne moved aside so Betty could take a seat next to Kate.
Betty ignored Renee’s question and looked at LuAnne. “I’ll take the chef’s salad. Does that come with cherry tomatoes?” she asked.
“It can.” LuAnne winked at her, then left to place the order.
“So what are we talking about?” Betty asked.
“We were just talking about the food,” Kate said.
“I wish I could help with more than just the fund-raising,” Betty said. “But prom is one of my busiest times of the year at the salon.”
“It’s not just fund-raising,” Kate said. “That’s a huge part of the party.” She sat back for a moment in thought. “To be honest, I think the biggest hurdle we face right now is getting the youth excited about it so they’ll turn out and bring their friends. I mean, what’s the point if the teens don’t actually show up?”
Kate heard a whimpering sound from the other side of the table. Renee turned toward it and lifted her designer tote onto her lap. She patted Kisses’ shivering head and slipped him a snack that she kept for him in her purse. The dog chewed eagerly, and little crumbs fell down his chest and into the tote. Then he disappeared inside the bag, and Renee set it back on the seat beside her.
Kate went on as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “We need to recruit.”
“I’ll ask the high school if they can make an announcement over the intercom,” Betty offered. “Maybe they’d let me put up some posters asking for volunteers too.”
LuAnne returned with their orders, and they bowed their heads for a brief prayer before digging into their meals.
Kate took a bite of her blackened-chicken salad, following it with a taste of a soft bread stic
k that practically melted in her mouth.
There was a flurry of activity near the front door of the restaurant as a large bouquet of gerbera daisies came in, followed by the short delivery person who carried it.
“Is Betty Anderson here?” the man said.
Betty lifted her head, a look of shock on her face. “Did you say Betty Anderson?” she asked.
He looked at the card again and said, “Yep. That’d be the one.”
Betty placed a hand on her chest and said, “How did you know to find me here?”
He set the beautiful bouquet of colorful flowers on the table between the ladies and said, “I stopped at the beauty shop, and Alicia said to bring it here. Said it’d be a bigger surprise.” He shrugged as if unimpressed, then he turned to go.
Betty glanced at the others before she reached for the card that peeked out of the bouquet. Her brow furrowed as she read.
“Who is it from?” Renee asked, lifting her face and squinting her eyes.
“It doesn’t say,” Betty whispered as she glanced around the noisy diner. She handed the card to Kate.
“To a woman who inspires me,” it began. “I’ve admired you for a long, long time.” Kate turned the card over. The back was blank.
“It isn’t signed,” Kate said.
“I know.” Betty looked perplexed. “My husband rarely does anything this romantic...,” she said.
“Maybe he’s trying to spice things up?” Kate suggested.
Betty shook her head. “It doesn’t seem like him. Don’t get me wrong, he’s very sweet. But flowers aren’t his thing.”
“Maybe a customer sent them?” LuAnne offered, coming to the table and wiping her hands on a towel.
“At the salon?” Betty guffawed. “I do mostly women’s hair. Which of my clients would go to this much trouble? Morty Robertson?”
Kate pictured the retired man who volunteered regularly at the library. He had a lighthearted laugh and loved watching Oprah.
Renee laughed. “Morty is even less likely than Bob,” she said, referring to Betty’s husband.
“It doesn’t have to be a man,” Kate observed. “A woman could’ve written that too.”
