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“I’m still not sure. It’s like he wanted to make amends. He said my sister Cat told him I was sick. He followed the bride and groom case. He said he wanted to tell me how proud he was of me.”
“That was months ago.” Jill snorted, taking a bite of a chicken-and-avocado wrap. “He sure took his time.”
“That’s what I said.” I nodded.
Cindy shook her head. “He just decided after twenty years to show up at your door?”
“I think it’s a good thing, Lindsay,” injected Claire. “You know me—positive.”
“A good thing that after twenty years he marches back in with a guilty conscience.”
“No, a good thing because he needs you, Lindsay. He’s alone, right?”
“He told me he got married again for two years, but he’s divorced. Imagine, Claire, finding out years after the fact that your father got married again.”
“That’s not the point, Lindsay,” Claire replied. “He’s reaching out. You shouldn’t be too proud to accept it.”
“How do you feel?” inquired Jill.
I wiped my mouth, took a sip of iced tea and then a long breath. “The truth? I don’t even know. He’s like some ghost from the past who brings back a lot of bad memories. Everything he’s touched has only hurt people.”
“He’s your father, honey,” Claire said. “You’ve carried this hurt around since I’ve known you. You should let him in, Lindsay. You could have something you never had before.”
“He could also kick her in the shins again,” said Jill.
“Gee.” Cindy looked over at Jill. “The prospect of motherhood hasn’t exactly made you all soft and gooey, has it?”
“One date with the reverend,” Jill chuffed back, “and suddenly you’re the conscience of the group? I’m impressed.”
We looked at Cindy, all of us suppressing smiles.
“That’s true.” Claire nodded. “You don’t think you’re going to get off the hook, do you?”
Cindy began to blush. Never since I’d known her had I seen Cindy Thomas blush.
“You guys do make quite the couple.” I sighed.
“I like him,” Cindy blurted. “We talked for hours. At a bar. Then he took me home. The end.”
“Sure.” Jill grinned. “He’s cute, he’s got a steady job, and if you’re ever tragically killed, you don’t have to worry about who will preside over your service.”
“I hadn’t thought of that one.” Cindy finally smiled. “Look, it was one date. I’m doing a piece on him and the neighborhood. I’m sure he won’t ask me out again.”
“But will you ask him out again?” said Jill.
“We’re friends. No, we’re friendly. It was a great couple of hours. I guarantee, all of you would have enjoyed yourselves. It’s research,” Cindy said, and she folded her arms.
We all smiled. But Cindy was right—none of us would have turned down a couple of hours with Aaron Winslow. I still got chills when I remembered his talk at Tasha Catchings’s funeral.
As we crumpled our trash, I turned to Jill. “So, how’re you feeling? You okay?”
She smiled. “Pretty good, actually.” Then she linked her hands around her barely swollen belly and puffed out her cheeks as if to say, Fat… “I’ve just got this last case to finish up on. Then, who knows, I might even take some time off.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Cindy chortled. Claire and I mooned our eyes in support.
“Well, you just might be surprised,” Jill said.
“So what’re you gonna do?” Claire turned to me as we got up to leave.
