“I take it you’re looking for your mother,” the priest says. He must notice my look of surprise because he adds, “I know Laura quite well. You look just like her.”
“That’s news to me,” I murmur, glad for the semidarkness that hides my embarrassment. “Not that I look like her, I mean. The other part.”
He smiles. “She drops by on a regular basis,” he says neutrally enough so I don’t feel embarrassed. After all, she’s my own mother and, like with many other things, it turns out, I haven’t the slightest idea what she’s been up to. “And I’ve been at this church for decades. I know everyone in town by name.”
“Was she here just now?” I ask.
“She was. Not just now, a little earlier. She came in, like she always does, only for a few minutes. She lit a candle. And then she was on her way.”
“Did she say anything?” I prompt. “Did she look upset?”
He frowns slightly. “What is this about?”
“We can’t find her,” Luc pipes up. “And Stephanie is a little worried.”
“I don’t often talk heart-to-heart with your mother, Stephanie,” the priest says. “And what she tells me in the confessional is, I’m afraid, confidential.”
Luc and I exchange a glance. He’s at least as bewildered as I am.
“She did say something when she came in earlier,” the priest says. “She said the time has come to set everything right. But she didn’t look upset, not at all. On the contrary, she looked happy and at peace.”
I look at the stand with the candles behind him. Sure enough, there’s only one new candle burning amidst short little stubs.
“Does she do this often?” I ask. “The candle, I mean.”
“Every time she comes in,” he confirms.
“And how long has it been?”
“Oh, years. Since before you were born.”
“And you have no idea where she could have gone?”
“Absolutely no idea. But if you ask me, there’s no reason to be worried. She looked like she knew what she was doing.”
Excuse me if I don’t find that too reassuring. I say a polite goodbye to him and let Luc help me along to the truck even though I’ve figured the crutch out and I don’t need the help. I shut the door while he gets into the driver’s seat.
Just as he drives out onto the street, his phone rings.
“It’s my dad,” he says, relieved. “Could you pick it up?”
So I get his phone from the cupholder where Luc keeps it. I hesitate for a moment but then answer.
“Mr. Bergmann—”
“Stephanie!” He doesn’t sound all that surprised. “I got Luc’s message. What’s going on?”
Part of me feels grateful. After all, Frank has every right to start asking me what the hell I’m doing driving around with his married son in the middle of the day.
“It’s Laura,” I say. “My mom.”
“What’s the matter?”
I briefly tell him how she took off, how we can’t find her, and then what the priest at the church told me.
“She said she was going to set everything right, huh,” Frank says.
“Yeah. The priest didn’t seem worried, but I am. I’m afraid that—” I choke, and it’s difficult to get the words out “—I’m afraid that she could harm herself. We really need to find her as soon as possible.”
“I agree with you,” he says. “I agree with you wholeheartedly. That’s very alarming. Why don’t you keep looking, check with her friends, stuff like that. I’ll do my part. And I’ll call Luc if I find her. Sound good?”
I thank him profusely and then hang up and put the phone back. I notice Luc is looking at me with a strange expression.
“What?” I snap, a little sharper than I had to.
“Laura has a secret double life as a born-again Christian,” he says. “Who would have thought? Did you know anything about this?”
“I had no idea,” I say. “I’m as surprised as you are. I mean, what else don’t I know about her?”
Luc shakes his head sadly.
“I don’t need the look of pity,” I seethe. “Especially from you.”
“It’s not pity,” he says. “It’s just—for someone with a journalism degree, you’re really not very attentive.”
“Oh, I’m inattentive?”
“If I’m being honest, yeah, kind of. You end up missing major details because you’re mired in your preconceived notions.”
