“Thank Charlie’s mother too,” I said. “In all the years I knew her, Marnie never knowingly caused another person pain. She had a truly generous spirit – not a moralizing bone in her body.”
“Glenda’s mother, Beverly, is cut from more rigid cloth,” Zack said dryly.
“You’ve met her, then.”
“Sure. She’s the one who hired me. I had to go to Calgary so she could check out the cut of my jib.”
“She interviewed you?”
Zack frowned at the memory. “Not exactly. She tried to convert me.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her my billable rate was $600 an hour, and she was on the clock. It didn’t stop her. She’s a True Believer.”
“She believes in The Rapture,” I said. “I read about it when I was doing research for my book. Legions of the Antichrist on the march. A final showdown in Armageddon. The Second Coming. And of course, the grand finale when the True Believers ascend into heaven, sit on God’s right hand, and watch their enemies suffer the horrors of the damned.”
“Nice precis,” Zack said. “Beverly was more discursive. She went on for about an hour and a half.”
“And you charged her?”
“You bet I did, and now that I’ve seen the way she treats Glenda, I wish I’d billed double.”
“I still remember the Bev Parker of Sam and Bev,” I said. “Her hair was the colour of toffee, and her voice sounded the way good toffee tastes – melting and sweet with a little burn to give it edge.”
“Well, now her hair is – what’s that really blonde blonde?”
“Platinum,” I said.
“Right,” Zack said. “And her voice is hard and very angry.” Zack fell silent, seemingly engrossed in the efforts of a squirrel trying to break into the squirrel-proof bird feeder the girls had put up during the summer. When the squirrel gave up and moved along, Zack turned to me. “You think he’ll find something to eat?” he said.
“Sure. The girls left nine dollars’ worth of sunflower seeds on the ground by that tree where he has his nest.”
“A lot of stuff goes on around here that I don’t know about,” Zack said.
“I’ll start sending a daily update to your BlackBerry.” I picked up the coffee carafe and refilled our cups. “I wonder what happened to turn the Bev I remember into the Beverly you met.”
Zack shrugged. “I’m no expert. The only time Sam and I discussed his wife was over a bottle of Scotch late one night. He is absolutely loyal to her. And he either can’t or won’t talk about what caused her to change. All he told me was that when Judgment Day rolls around, Beverly believes she’ll have a front-row seat to watch her enemies suffer.”
“And it doesn’t trouble her that her only child will be among the sufferers.”
“That doesn’t seem to be a matter of concern.”
He stared at his empty bowl as if seeing it for the first time. “Is there more porridge? This was really good.”
I stood up. “I’ll get it.”
“I can get it,” Zack said. He balanced his bowl on his knees and wheeled towards the kitchen. When he took the pot from the stove, he peered at it with interest. “What’s in this anyway?”
“Oatmeal, of course, but also poppy seeds and dried cranberries. There are supposed to be sunflower seeds in there too, but the girls gave them to your pal, the squirrel.”
He wheeled back into the sunroom and started eating. “Do you think Charlie will be up yet?”
“You want to talk to him?”
“I need to know who he told about that sentence he edited from the tape.”
“My guess is no one, but if you’re anxious, give him a few more hours of sack time before you pay him a visit. Charlie isn’t a morning person.”
“Fair enough,” Zack said. “So what are you up to this morning?”
“I promised Madeleine I’d teach her how to make pancakes. After that, Mieka and I are taking all the girls into Fort Qu’Appelle to the farmers’ market. It’s the last one till next summer.”
Zack looked wistful. “Sounds like fun.”
“You’re welcome to come,” I said.
“I’ve got way too much work.” He covered my hand with his. “It’s not always going to be like this.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this,” I said.
The kitchen in the Hynd cottage caught the early light, and Lena had found a patch of sunshine on the floor in which to test out the bouncing properties of Tupperware. Madeleine was at the table with a whisk and a bowl and when she saw me she waved her whisk in the air. “I broke four eggs,” she said.
“Without getting a single piece of shell in the bowl,” Mieka said approvingly.
“Her mother’s daughter,” I said. “Let me wash my hands, and we’ll get started.”
When I rolled up my sleeves, Mieka glanced at my fingers. “You’re not wearing your wedding ring,” she said
