Page 9 of Pieces of Perfect
Reagan grimaced. “Ew. Don’t call him that.”
Lorelei shuddered, too. “I feel the same. Anyway, I’m sure conditions have improved. They got a new corrections commissioner a little while ago.”
“Those are big problems that can’t be fixed overnight,” Reagan pointed out.
“At least we know what to expect,” Serenity told her. “I wanted to picture what Bernard Greenstone’s life has been like for the past twenty years.”
Serenity researched everything. That was probably what made her so good at her job. Lorelei had only read up on the prison hoping that knowledge would raise her comfort level and lower her anxiety. “Did you ever think we’d meet Greenstone when we figured out how we were related two years ago?”
“I’ve never had any desire to,” Reagan responded. “I just came to see you two.”
They’d reached the sally port, where they had to be scanned and searched, but it didn’t take long until they were allowed to go into a waiting area, after which they were bussed to the appropriate unit.
“The visitor center looks okay,” Reagan commented as they were led inside.
“After all the bad press, I’ll bet the officials would make sure of that,” Serenity said.
Lorelei didn’t add anything. One of the correctional officers had already opened the door on the other side of the room, and the inmates were filing through, hurrying over to the friends and loved ones who’d made the trek to see them.
She knew the instant she spotted a distinguished, white-haired gentleman that she was looking at “Father” Greenstone.
He seemed to realize who they were, too, because he smiled as he came toward them. “Wow. You all have the same dark hair and blue eyes. It’s uncanny how much you resemble each other.”
Lorelei had no idea what to say. Reagan and Serenity didn’t say anything, either, which surprised her. They were rarely at a loss for words.
He continued to smile even though the color had drained from Serenity and Reagan’s faces—and likely her own. Fortunately, he was courteous enough to pull his chair out an appropriate distance rather than sit too close.
Lorelei hauled in a deep breath. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt with black and white striped pants like the rest of the inmates, but he was significantly older than the others in the room.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Serenity said.
Lorelei was relieved that her sister had taken charge. She was more comfortable sitting back and watching and listening for a while.
“Of course.” He put the Bible he’d carried in with him on the table. “It’s the least I can do.”
Serenity gestured at the book. “Is there any particular reason you brought the Bible with you?”
He looked down. “I keep it with me always. It’s how I find peace in here.”
“I see.”
“I know it must seem odd to you,” he added, “but…I’ve managed to retain my faith despite my sins and my situation.”
Lorelei did find that odd, but she made no comment.
“Do you remember the women you slept with—our mothers?” Serenity asked.
He shook his head helplessly. “I’m afraid you’d have to give me something more to go on.”
Of course. There were probably more girls than just their mothers. The Church had moved him from one parish to another before they were even born. And it was now nearly forty years since he’d been with Serenity and Reagan’s biological mothers, and thirty-seven years since he’d been with hers. Lorelei had been so focused on trying to find out who killed her adoptive mother that she hadn’t allowed herself to think too much about her biological one. The need to know more about her, too, suddenly hit hard.
“The secrecy surrounding our adoptions has made it impossible for us to learn much,” Reagan explained.
What she didn’t say was that their birth mothers hadn’t yet gotten a DNA test through 23andMe or Ancestry.com, two of the biggest companies that did that sort of thing, or the matches would’ve shown up in their profiles. That signified, at least to Lorelei, that their mothers weren’t interested in being found,which was why she probably would never pursue it. She needed to feel as though she might be welcome in order to do that.
“Where are you from?” he asked. “That might help jog my memory.”
“I’m the oldest, and I’m from the Bay Area,” Serenity told him.
