Mother of All Secrets(16)

“Of course. Of course,” Louise said, flashing us an ever-so-brief “oops” look. “I hope I haven’t said too much. But talking about it with friends helps me. It makes me feel like everything will be okay. That there’s an explanation. Of course, the bloodstains are most concerning . . .” She crossed the room and started rubbing Connor’s back. He looked visibly uncomfortable, and I could understand why. Tim and my mom had been close, but it had never gotten further than a very brief, friendly hug. This back rub was on a whole other level.

“Bloodstains?” I played dumb, pretending that Kira and I hadn’t seen the stains for ourselves.

Louise nodded and drew and released a deep breath. “Yes. Unfortunately, they found six large bloodstains between the house and the river—a few on the sidewalk, a few in Riverside Park. It’s Isabel’s blood type, A positive. They’re running more tests to see if it’s actually hers. It’s a common blood type, A positive. It’s easy for me to remember, too, because I always told her that it made sense that she had A positive blood because she was such an A-plus girl! Always trying her hardest, always looking on the bright side. She never gives up. She always finds a way.” She looked at Connor and smiled proudly, expecting him to share in her admiring reflection on Isabel’s character.

Instead, Connor said only, “Louise, please.” He shot her a scathing look, which she either didn’t register or completely ignored. I was liking her more and more, and him less and less.

“Could she have, like, cut herself?” I asked lamely.

“The stains aren’t consistent with a minor injury,” she explained. We looked at her. “Too much blood,” she elaborated, in case we weren’t following, choking a bit on the word “blood.”

“Louise,” Connor warned once again. He was trying to keep his cool, probably since we were there, but it was clear he was becoming exasperated.

“I know, Connor—sorry. But these ladies are her friends, and they’re worried about her. And besides, maybe they know something that could help.” She looked at us and opened her palms to us, as if prompting us to go ahead and offer up what we knew.

“If that’s the case,” Connor broke in, “I’m sure the detectives will talk to them. And, I’m sorry—you’re going to have to remind me who you are, exactly. I know she’s in a yoga class for moms—is that you?” He was looking at us with an even combination of suspicion and annoyance.

“No, that’s not us,” Vanessa said. “This is more like a support group for new moms. To talk about issues with feedings, naps, whatever. We meet once a week at the West Side Women’s Center.” She was looking at Connor carefully, to see if any of these clues raised any recollection whatsoever on his part.

But Connor was looking at me now. “Have we met before?”

This brought me up short. “No, we haven’t. I don’t think so. I live a couple of blocks away, though, so it’s possible we’ve passed each other on the street.” He did seem familiar to me, too, but it was hard to say why or where from, especially now that I had googled him.

“Right.” He didn’t take his eyes off me, which was disconcerting.

Vanessa was looking at me now, too. “Anyway, we should get going,” she interjected. “We don’t want to impose any further during such a sensitive time.”

Right on cue, both Phoebe and Clara started fussing a bit on the floor. The perfect wingwomen. I couldn’t recall ever being grateful to Clara for fussing, but I was getting uncomfortable and was glad to have an excuse to hurry out.

“Please,” Vanessa went on as she bent down and scooped up Phoebe, “let us know if there is anything at all we can do for your family while you search for Isabel. Or anything we can do to help in the search efforts.” I started wrestling my carrier back on.

“Thank you so much for coming by,” Louise said. “Come back anytime. I’m going to be staying here, helping with Naomi. For as long as Connor needs me.” She nodded firmly, punctuating her renewed commitment to him. Connor’s facial expression remained blank, but I thought I saw irritation flash in his eyes.

We said goodbye in the kitchen, insisting that they not take the trouble of walking us to the door. I had a feeling Louise was in for a lecture as soon as we left.

On our way to the door, a framed eight-by-ten of a late-term ultrasound picture of Naomi caught my eye. It was such a beautiful idea—the very first picture of mom and baby together, really. I made a mental note to frame one of Clara’s ultrasound pictures, too. It made me sad, though, because all I could think was, Will Naomi get her mom back? I glanced at Vanessa, who was also registering the ultrasound picture, emotion visible on her face; she must have been feeling the same way I did.

I took a huge gulp of air as soon as we got outside. I felt like I hadn’t really breathed the whole time we’d been in there. I wanted to debrief with Vanessa, but I had to tread a bit carefully, since we weren’t that close. I didn’t want to seem gossipy or insensitive, but at the same time, I was curious to get her take on Connor and Louise.

“Louise seems very nice,” I offered as we walked away. Nice and way too forthcoming and jumpy and really pretty for an older lady and a little weird with her son-in-law? And also I dug her fanny pack? But I couldn’t say all these things. I also couldn’t deny that I liked her immensely. She reminded me a little bit of my own mom—quirky and honest and somehow perfect in her imperfections.