Page 41

The nurse helps Mom into bed and tucks her in. “I just started working on your discharge paperwork,” she says. “We should have you out of here within an hour.”
“Take your time, dear.” Mom pats the nurse’s hand. “I know how busy you are. I’m just grateful for all you’ve done.”
As soon as the woman leaves the room, my mother’s face changes. It contorts back to the miserable one reserved just for me. I’ll never understand what I’ve done to deserve so much hatred. Then again, I suppose, my being born was enough of a burden on her.
“Did you even bring me clean underwear? I can’t be going into God’s house without my privates covered.”
“You almost died a few days ago. You were on life support. Don’t you think maybe you should just go home and rest?”
“The Lord doesn’t rest. Besides, it’s Sunday. Where else would I go after my life has been spared but to thank our maker? I’m walking out of here on my own. It’s a miracle.”
“Or,” I mumble under my breath, “it’s antibiotics.”
“Iheard that.”
Forty-five minutes later, we’re in my car and on our way. My mother looks over as I merge onto the highway. “It’s disrespectful to wear dirty sneakers to church.”
“Your shoes don’t look dirty.”
Her eyes narrow. “I meantyours. Do you have a change of shoes in this fancy rental car somewhere?”
I smile and keep my eyes forward, focusing on the road in front of me. “Not planning on going in, Mother. I’ll take you, if that’s what you really want. And I’ll happily help you inside. But after that, I’ll be waiting in the car.”
Mom purses her lips. Though at least she keeps quiet the rest of the drive. I arrive at Saint Matthew’s fifteenminutes before mass starts. Father Preston is already at the door, all smiles and handshakes, greeting the early congregants as they arrive. I pull to the curb and shift the car into park.
“Would you like me to help you out, or are you just going to smack my hand away again?”
Mom ignores me and reaches for the door handle. Considering she was almost dead only a week ago, she really has a good amount of pep in her step when she wants to. She disappears inside the church. I sit watching the locals gather, dressed in their Sunday best. After a few minutes, I grow bored and start to fiddle with my phone—at least until a family crossing the street catches my attention.
Ivy.A child holds each of her hands—boy with a collared dress shirt on one side, girl in a blue dress on the other. Seven or eight years old, at best. I know there must be one younger, too, because she bought diapers that time I saw her, but there is no baby today. The man next to her must be her husband. He’s wearing a suit, but I can still tell the shirt underneath is too tight. His potbelly is testing the limits of some bulging buttons. Church could be dangerous today—a parishioner might lose an eye. Behind them trails a third child, a teenage boy looking down at whatever gaming device is in his hands. He doesn’t even look up as they cross the street, same as every Gen Z with a cell phone on the streets of Manhattan.
Father Preston’s face lights up as they approach.
Looks trustworthy, doesn’t he?
A man who will lull you into telling him anything. My mother. Ivy.
I tap my fingernails on the steering wheel as I watch.But what does he do with it?
I’m still tossing that question around when Ivy and her family disappear inside. Right behind them is a man I didn’t even notice coming.Chief Unger.Dressed in his uniform. He nods at the priest and walks on in. A few minutes later, a man I don’texpect turns up.
Noah.
He’s shoulder to shoulder with Little Miss Sundress from the other night. Her blond hair is pulled back, and the sundress is pink today, but it’s definitely her. Noah says something and she laughs, grabbing his bicep as they cross the street.Minnie?Was that her name? No, Ginny. Definitely Ginny.
“She’s just a friend,” he said.
They reach the door, and Noah’s hand goes to the small of her back in a familiar way. Looks like more than friendship to me.
Another few minutes go by. Father Preston waits for a family jogging to the door before he reaches up, releases the mechanism holding the door open, and begins to shut it. As he does, he looks around once more for stragglers. But his eyes catch mine. He nods and waits. When I don’t offer anything in return, he frowns and disappears inside.
I stare at the closed door for a long time. The entire cast of characters is at church today, isn’t it? My mother, Ivy, Father Preston, Chief Unger, Noah. There’s a niggle, reminding me there’s another person, too—one who might not be a suspect, but her presence irks me in a different way. Noah’s companion.We’re just friends.
I run my tongue along my bottom lip, remembering the way I did that to Noah last night, right before sinking my teeth in. He liked it, said I was different from the women from these parts. I can’t help but wonder if Little Miss Sundress does things like that for him.
My mind bounces around among all the people I’ve seen in the last ten minutes . . . so many questions, so few answers.
What does Father Preston know?