Hid from Our Eyes by Julia Spencer-Fleming

Author:Julia Spencer-Fleming
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

39.

Clare was finishing a tomato and mayo sandwich when she heard Elizabeth de Groot’s voice calling from down the hall. “Clare? We’re back, and we have a visitor!”

Clare stuffed the rest of her sandwich in her mouth, felt something wet give way, and managed to get her hand up in time to keep a blob of mayonnaise from staining her blouse. Unfortunately, she wasn’t deft enough to prevent the stream of tomato juice and seeds from hitting her right on her bosom, which was larger, since she was nursing, than it had been at any other time in her life.

She was rubbing her chest with a paper towel when Elizabeth stepped in. “Really, Clare.”

“Sowwy,” Clare mumbled around the remains of her sandwich.

“Get yourself presentable and come out to the sanctuary. Joni’s mother is here, and we want her to be impressed.”

Clare wiped her hands and tossed the paper towel into the wastebasket. She showed her teeth to the deacon. “Okay?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Good enough. Don’t grin too much.”

As they approached the sanctuary, Clare could hear Joni repeating the same history-of-St.-Alban’s tour she had been given two days ago. When Clare and Elizabeth entered, her intern was at the back of the church, pointing out the “unique herringbone pattern laid with reclaimed Civil War–era bricks.”

“Hello,” Clare said. She didn’t have to raise her voice: the church had been designed to carry sound in an era before microphones and speakers. “I’m Clare Fergusson.”

Joni’s mother bore a striking resemblance to her daughter; tall and athletic with an angular face and a thick swoop of hair that was probably kept red at great expense. “Audrey Langevoort.” She held out a hand that still had dirt beneath clipped fingernails. “I’m so pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine.” Clare shook hands, feeling more relaxed about her tomato-scented blouse. Mrs. Langevoort’s outfit was very much like Margy’s summer uniform: cropped jeans, a T-shirt, and a light shirt thrown over all. Several sizes smaller than Clare’s mother-in-law’s, and it didn’t come from Kmart, but Clare recognized the look of a passionate gardener.

“I had to pick up some things at the Agway,” Mrs. Langevoort said, “and I thought I could stop by so we could meet before Friday night.”

“Thank you so much for being willing to open your home on such short notice.”

“I’m glad Joni thought of it. We had already planned a get-together honoring Kent’s successor; this gave me an excuse to open the party up to our delightful neighbors instead of just having stuffy financiers.” She gestured toward the rose window above the brass-and-marble high altar. “What a lovely church.”

“Thank you,” Clare said. “We have a wonderful congregation to match.”

Mrs. Langevoort smiled. “We’ll have to join you some Sunday before we go back to New York.”

Clare gestured to the center aisle, and they walked toward the front of the church. “Are you headed home soon?”

“Usually the county fair marks the end of our summer—we head south to the city the weekend it closes. This year, I’ll be staying on.

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