“Got it. And what are the kids’ names?”
He swallowed, straining to filter this previously minor information from his memory. “Abby,” he said, remembering her picture on Dopp’s desk. “And Ethan.”
The cab pulled up in front of a house on a cul-de-sac lined with basketball hoops and neat lawns. His parents’ black sedan was already parked on the curb.
On the doormat, Trent noticed the Christian fish symbol next to the word WELCOME. His parents had a similar mat. He stepped on it as he rang the bell.
As he heard cheerful dings echo inside the house, Trent felt oddly removed, as if he were watching himself on the doorstep, watching the door swing open.…
And then Dopp was before them, burly and smiling. He wore a red collared shirt and khaki slacks, the first time Trent had seen him without a suit and tie.
“Trent, so good to see you!” he exclaimed, pulling him into a hug that felt uncomfortably close. Trent smelled tangy cologne on his neck and fought the urge to stiffen. Upon release, he inched back.
“Uncle Gideon, this is Arianna. Arianna, Uncle Gideon.”
Arianna smiled and leaned in to kiss his clean-shaven cheek. “Nice to meet you.”
Trent looked down, as if privy to a vulgar sight.
“Likewise,” Dopp answered. “Merry Christmas,” he added, looking only at her.
“Same to you,” she said, extending the chocolate cake. “Thank you for having me.”
“How nice,” Dopp said, taking it. “Come on in. What happened?” He pointed to her cane.
“I had a bike accident last week,” she replied.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Arianna took off her coat, wearing underneath a red satin dress cut in a straight line above her breasts. No one could fault it for being too revealing, as it showed no cleavage, but Trent thought it somehow inappropriate. It teased her curves, exposed her naked collarbone.
He breathed in the house’s warm, spicy aroma, like the inside of a cinnamon candle. The smell was pleasant, though his throat seemed unnaturally narrow. He took Arianna’s hand as they followed Dopp through the foyer into a living room where his parents and Dopp’s wife were sitting. His parents rose at the sight of them. Trent smiled tentatively and felt his nervousness escalate, the way he used to feel when he acted in front of his theater class in high school: unable to lose himself in the character, aware that everybody could see through his pretense anyway.
“Merry Christmas,” he said to them, arms outstretched. They chorused it back, both hugging him. Trent noticed they looked stiffer than usual; his mother’s embrace felt mechanical, and his father’s smile—usually so genuine—was surely a veneer that concealed the wheels of judgment spinning behind his eyes.
“Mom, Dad, this is Arianna,” Trent said. “Arianna, my parents.”
“So pleased to meet you both,” Arianna said. She leaned in to kiss his father’s cheek. Dopp’s wife rose with effort from the couch, and Dopp hurried to her side to help her up. She was heavily pregnant, and looked haggard, with stringy brown hair and swollen legs. She had a small oval face with chiseled features; Trent had seen a pretty picture of her before, but in person, he noticed the bags under her eyes and the effort with which she smiled first at him, and then at Arianna.
“Welcome,” she said, giving Trent a one-armed hug and then shaking Arianna’s hand. “I’m Joanie, Gideon’s wife. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Arianna said, glancing sideways at him, and then back to Joanie. “Are the kids upstairs?”
“Oh, no,” Joanie responded. “They’re at a kids’ event at our church that’s held every Christmas Eve. They look forward to it every year. Sorry you won’t get to meet them.”
“That’s too bad,” Trent said, contemplating the irony that the adults had banished the children for fear that honesty might disrupt their grown-up machinations.
Dopp smiled at Trent as though he could read this thought, and put an arm around his wife’s waist. Like an airborne virus, awkwardness struck. They stood in a silent cluster, and Trent knew they were all wary of speaking first, paralyzed by the fear that the slightest slipup would doom them all. In the corner of the room, he noticed a twinkling six-foot-tall tree decorated in gold bulbs. Shiny boxes lay wrapped beneath.
“You have a beautiful tree,” he remarked.
“Thank you,” Dopp said. “I did it all myself this year.”
“That’s not true,” Joanie said. “I put up a few of the lower bulbs.”
“You weren’t supposed to help,” Dopp replied, kissing his wife on the cheek.
“When are you due?” Arianna asked her.
“January thirtieth.”
Arianna smiled. “Just a few more weeks to go.”
“Five,” Joanie said.
“It’ll go by before you know it.”
“So is it too early to break out the champagne?” Trent asked.
Heads shook all around.
“I’m starving,” his mother said. “Any chance the chicken is ready?”
Dopp nodded. “Just about. Why don’t we all go sit down. Trent, would you like to help me serve?”
“Sure.”
Joanie led Arianna and his parents out into the dining room, while Dopp escorted him the other direction into a large kitchen that smelled of rosemary.
“So?” Dopp said, setting Arianna’s cake dish on the granite counter. “Any progress since yesterday?”
Trent thought of the deserted alley and the decrepit church.
“Not yet,” he said.
A troubled look clouded Dopp’s face. “Do you ever feel dirty around her?”
Trent nodded guiltily, surprised at Dopp’s perceptiveness; lying had never felt right to him, even when he knew it was.
Dopp turned to face the sink and thrust his hands under the sensor-activated faucet. “Like after being with her, you can never be fully cleansed?”
Oh, Trent thought, that kind of dirty. He watched the water spraying off his boss’s hands. “Yeah,” he lied. “I know how you feel.”
Dopp dried his hands. “So did you confess anything like we talked about?”
“Not yet.” What could he confess to her?
“Do it tonight, after you leave.”
“I will.”
“Now, let’s get back out there. I should get to know her a little better.”
* * *
As soon as they were all seated with plates full of chicken, yams, and broccoli, Arianna lifted her fork to a table of
