Gail Bowen - The Last Good Day

“Makes sense to me,” I said. “When in doubt, proceed as if life is going on as usual.”

Not long after Rose and the girls left, Zack drove in. I walked out to the driveway to meet him. He was pale and clearly exhausted.

“Bad day?” I asked.

He grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

“Would a large gin and tonic help?”

“I’m not certain,” Zack said. “But I’m willing to give it a try.”

We took our drinks out to the porch, where there was at least the chance of a breeze. The scent of nicotiana, heady and seductive, drifted through the screened windows.

Zack sipped his drink and sighed contentedly. “On the drive back I was thinking about how nice it is to have someone to come home to.”

“Whoa, there,” I said. “What’s my favourite colour?”

He laughed. “You don’t think I know enough about you to move in?”

“I don’t think we know enough about each other to pass a couples’ quiz in Cosmopolitan magazine.”

“We can remedy that,” Zack said. “After the Friends of Clare Mackey leave tonight, come sit on my deck. We’ll watch the sunset – no sex, just the sharing of information. What do you say?”

“I’ve never been a big fan of either-or.”

“Neither have I. So let’s do both. Now, how was your day?”

“About as grim as yours,” I said. My account of the scene with Lily was brief, but I didn’t gloss over the punch-in-the-stomach gratuitous ugliness of Lily’s attack.

Zack was visibly shaken. “How did Gracie take it?”

“She was stunned, of course. She was trembling and so pale that I thought she might be on the verge of shock. Lily either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Her only concern was where the rocks for the Inukshuk came from.”

“Why would it matter?” Zack said. “The kids showed me what they’ve done. It looks like good work to me.”

“I agree,” I said. “And if there’s a happy ending to this story, it’s that Gracie didn’t let her mother destroy what she and the other girls made. As soon as Lily left, Gracie started building again.”

Zack’s smile was faint. “Way to go, Gracie,” he said.

“Kids have amazing resources,” I said.

“But no one’s resources are inexhaustible,” Zack said. “Lately, Blake has been running on empty.”

“There aren’t many things more draining than a bad marriage,” I said. “Lily’s clearly miserable. Why doesn’t Blake just accept the truth?”

Zack shrugged. “He’s in love with her, and once in a while she loves him back.”

“And that’s enough for him.”

“I guess it is. I know he’s absolutely faithful to her.”

“I underestimated him,” I said. “When I met Blake, I didn’t like him. I had him pegged as a ladies’ man.”

“How did you have me pegged?”

“As the prince of darkness,” I said.

“So you were wrong on both counts.”

“Was I?”

Zack laughed. “Probably not entirely. But I have the rest of the summer to convince you that you were wrong about me.” He finished his drink and placed the glass on the wicker table.

“Can I get you a refill?”

“Thanks, but no. I spent most of the lunch hour talking to my client, then I had an errand to run. I forgot to eat.”

“You should have said something. I’ll make us some sandwiches. Is ham okay?”

“Ham is perfect. I’m starving, and the prospect of going out to a restaurant does not appeal to me.”

“Can’t you cook?”

“Can’t even boil an egg.”

“Is that the truth or a ploy?”

“A ploy,” he said. “I’d do anything to get you to make me that sandwich.”

I brought back a tray with our sandwiches and a pitcher of milk. When we’d finished eating, Zack sighed with contentment. “You know, I might just live.”

“That’s good news.”

“You don’t look very happy about it.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I wish Clare’s friends weren’t coming out here tonight. I feel as if I’ve betrayed them.”

“Because you alerted me to the fact that they were asking questions? Joanne, if they want answers, you’ve helped them. You’ve expedited the process. Clare’s friends don’t have to jump out of the bushes and scare me. I’ll stay here and answer any questions they have.”

“I think your presence might just exacerbate matters.”

“My presence has been known to do that,” Zack said. “But I’m not sure why it would in this case.”

“Because if you’re waiting for them, it will appear that Falconer Shreve is trying to control events. Clare’s friends are trying to create a situation in which people can come to them.”

“Fair enough,” Zack said. “But at least let me tell you what I know – just to clear the air.”

“And I can pass this information along?”

“Every word. For the record, I believe Clare Mackey is working for a law firm in Vancouver.”

“But you’re not certain.”

“You were at the Canada Day party, Joanne. You saw the number of juniors Falconer Shreve has. Unless I’m working with one of them, I don’t keep track.”

“So you didn’t know that Anne Millar came to Falconer Shreve to find out why Clare had left so precipitously.”

“No. I knew that,” Zack said. “It came up at a partners’ meeting. We decided that, out of respect for the privacy of those involved, we wouldn’t disclose the circumstances under which Clare left. To be honest, two adults having a love affair that went wrong didn’t seem to be anybody’s business but theirs.”

“Are you saying the woman in Chris’s life was Clare Mackey?”

“You sound surprised,” Zack said.

“I thought that Clare might be the one,” I said. “But until this moment I wasn’t certain.”

“I guess each of us just knew half of the story,” Zack said. “I didn’t learn about the pregnancy and abortion until you told me that night at Magoo’s. Then of course I put two and two together.”

“But you didn’t say anything to me?”

“You and I were just getting to know one another; Chris had been my friend for over twenty years. He’d kept Clare’s pregnancy secret when he was alive. I didn’t see any point in bringing it up after he was dead and Clare had started a new life.” Zack moved his chair closer. “Does that make sense to you?”

“It makes sense,” I said.

“Then we can watch the sunset together?”

I reached over and touched his cheek. “You look so tired. Go home and get some sleep. Willie and I will stop by on our walk in the morning. Sunrises are just as nice as sunsets.”

He grinned. “And this time of year they come early. Lots of time to fool around before I have to go back to the city. Hey, I got you an electric toothbrush today at lunch. It’s in the car. I’ll plug it in as soon as I get home. Like me, the toothbrush will be ready when you are.”

The members of Clare Mackey’s Moot Team arrived on the dot of seven o’clock. Anne Millar had come with them, and it was clear from the outset that she had meshed easily with the other women. They were an appealing group. All were blond, all were fit, all were dressed smartly and informally – young professionals on casual Friday. Despite their smiles of greeting, they were sombre. When the introductions were over, I started to show them into the living room, but Linda Thauberger, who appeared to have been designated group leader, asked if we could use a room with a table. I led them into the kitchen. As generations of women had done before us, we took our places and began to talk, but our topic was not men, children, or the vagaries of our own flesh, it was Clare Mackey, and her story was murky and troubling.

“As far as we can tell,” Linda Thauberger said, opening her smart red briefcase and taking out a file, “this is where it all begins.” She placed the file at the centre of the table.