Page 44 of The Banned Books Club

Her mother scowled, but she didn’t warn Gia to be careful of what she said as she normally would have. “Cece’s divorced and back in town—has been since last spring—and your father and various other people have seen them together here and there.”

Gia took a drink from her water bottle. “You mean...just the two of them?”

“Just the two of them,” she confirmed.

“What were they doing?”

“One day last month, your father drove past the park and saw them sitting at one of the tables in the picnic area, talking so earnestly he’s pretty sure they didn’t notice him. My hairdresser mentioned that she saw them both leaving Sheldon’s office last week—she couldn’t remember exactly what day. And when Roberta Peden, from church, called to check on me this morning, she said she’s seen his truck parked in front of Cece’s house a number of times. She lives on the same block.”

“That certainly sounds suspect to me...”

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Margot...” her mother suggested.

“I don’t think so. She would’ve told us if that was the case.”

“I’m not convinced she would,” her mother argued. “I’m guessing she doesn’t want to upset us.”

Given Ida’s health, Gia could see that and backed off a little herself. “It could be that they’re just friends,” she said. “There’s no law against being friends with a former boyfriend or girlfriend. I’ve asked Margot how she and Sheldon are doing, and she insists they’re fine.”

“How do you know she wasn’t going to tell you about Cece last night?”

“Because if she thought Sheldon was cheating, she would’ve told me that already.”

Her mother didn’t look convinced, but her phone rang before she could argue. She’d left it in the home office, so Gia jumped up to get it for her. “It’s Dad,” she called back and answered so that her father wouldn’t be transferred to voicemail. “Hey, Dad.”

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Good. Mom ate almost a whole tuna-and-pickle sandwich for lunch, so that’s good. And she had quite a few of the date bars I made for dessert.”

“She loves those things,” he said. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing.”

His gratitude was nice but also made her feel guilty. “I’m glad I came home.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that, especially because...well, I know you have good reasons for wanting to be anywhere else.”

“I’m an adult now. I’ll get through it,” she said, even though there were moments when the anger and outrage welled up and it was so strong she wondered how long she could truly last.

“Do you need me to stop by the store and pick up anything for dinner? I’m on my way home...”

“No, I’m planning to make a chicken pot pie, and I already have everything.”

“Sounds delicious. It’s great to have some different meals than what I was preparing.”

“I’m happy you’re enjoying them. Here’s Mom,” she said.

While her parents talked, she walked into the backyard to peek over the fence. She’d done that periodically throughout the day, hoping to see the rock she’d left on Cormac Hart’s back porch gone, so she’d know her message had been received. But it was still there, with the paper sticking out underneath.

“Damn,” she muttered. She should’ve put the note on his front porch. Then he would’ve seen it when he went to work.

She considered going over to move it. But she was afraid he’d pull up right when she was on his front stoop. Or that he’d bring his sister or someone else home with him, and they’d discover her note together. She was feeling defensive enough that she preferred her message to be private.

Deciding he’d find it whenever he found it, she turned to go back to the kitchen. But then she noticed the darkening sky, pictured it getting wet and falling apart and hurried over to grab it.

She didn’t need to talk to Mr. Hart’s son. She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed.

And yet, later that night, after Ida and Leo took Miss Marple with them and went to bed, she found herself obsessed with the house behind her—couldn’t stop watching it from her bedroom window since the weather was too bad to go outside. She wondered what Cormac was thinking about finding his message gone and no response. Was he assuming she must be as bad as he’d always believed?

Why did she care? she asked herself. He was never going to be her friend. They’d known each other but never really been friends even back in high school. And that encounter at her locker when his father was fired loomed large in her memory.

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