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They both looked up. “Frasier just told us that he’s going to improve security,” Charlotte said. “For the birds.”
Zoey walked down the steps. “Who dotheyneed protecting from?”
“Good question.”
When Zoey reached the landing, she said, “Mac, I’m glad you’re here. First, thank you for last night! Dinner was amazing. I’ve never had anything like it in my life.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Second, do you have a copy ofDancing with the Dellawisps?”
“No, sorry. I never read it.”
“Darn. I can’t find a copy anywhere. I was up for hours last night looking for it online. I was going to buy one for my birthday next week.”
“Your birthday is next week?” Charlotte asked. Zoey nodded. “Then we need to celebrate.”
Zoey sighed. “Well, I’ve got nothing but time now.”
“So, the great condo cleanse is over?” Mac asked.
“Yes.”
Mac nodded. Then he hesitated and turned and walked away.
“Have you noticed that he doesn’t seem to know how to say goodbye?” Zoey asked.
A man who doesn’t know how to say goodbye. There were worse things in the world than to have a man like that as a friend. Just a friend, for however long she was destined to stay in this place.
“I need to get ready for work,” she said, turning to go. Her bank account wasn’t going to grow by itself.
Zoey followed, saying, “Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?”
When Mac got back to his condo, he washed the dishes in the sink, a meditative chore he’d always enjoyed. But this morning all he could think about was tiny Charlotte and her voracious appetiteas she’d eaten the johnnycakes. Leaving the dishes drying in the rack, he grabbed his tablet and went to the couch. When he sat down, Fig immediately jumped in his lap. He rested his tablet on her, which she liked because of the warmth of it, and typed inThe Church of McCauley.
There weren’t many mentions, and most of them were from local Vermont media reports a decade ago. He clicked on a short editorial piece whose headline read:THE CHURCH OF MCCAULEY, ONE YEAR LATER.
This week marks the first anniversary of the federal raid on the camp run by The Church of McCauley in Hunter’s Run. The church’s leader, fifty-two-year-old Marvin McCauley, went quietly and the small arsenal he’d managed to acquire was seized without incident. Most who knew him would never call rangy Marvin McCauley a particularly charismatic man, but he did have a knack for attracting local residents at low points in their lives. He recruited them at bus stops and food pantries, promising them a loving, religious family who would be fully self-sufficient on his twenty acres of wooded land. We all know the famous ones. Branch Davidians. Heaven’s Gate. A few years from now, no one will remember The Church of McCauley. It was small, and so much less brutal. But one thing we should never forget, if only for the sake of the handful of malnourished children who were taken from the camp that day, is that we always need to protect the most vulnerable members of our society.
Mac read everything else he could, most of it sketchy. The conditions at the camp were apparently poor—no electricity or running water except in the church building where Marvin McCauley’s well-appointed living quarters were located. The thing that stood out to Mac was how many times the underweight children were mentioned. Camille had taught him that food was love. So to him there was no clearer indication that love was lacking in those children’s lives than the fact that they went without food.
He moved Fig off his lap and went to the kitchen. It was muscle memory, learned from years of being at Camille’s side. This is what you do when you don’t know what else to do. This is how you show you care.
He turned on the oven and started bringing out ingredients.
When Charlotte got home from work, she found a Tupperware container on her patio table. On it, Mac had taped a note that read,Just because.
She opened the container, and the scent of chocolate and butter burst from it like from a Christmas cracker. She gave a startled laugh. Inside were the biggest chocolate chip cookies she’d ever seen, each the size of her whole hand.
She automatically turned to Mac’s condo, even though she knew he was at work. Lucy Lime’s curtain moved slightly.
Charlotte took a cookie out and held it between her teeth while she turned back to unlock her door.
Smiling around the cookie, she closed the door behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
NORRIE BEACH, CALIFORNIA
