“No, Molly,” Mr. Preston says. “You won’t lose your job. In fact, Mr. Snow will talk to you and to Juan Manuel about that himself.”
“Really?” I say. “He won’t fire either of us?”
“He said you’re both model workers and that you exemplify what it means to be Regency Grand employees,” Mr. Preston says.
“But what about the trial?” I ask.
“That won’t be for a long while,” Charlotte replies. “We’ll prepare for it, and that will take many months. But hopefully, by working with Detective Stark and her team, we’ll be able to put Rodney behind bars for a long time.”
“That seems appropriate,” I say. “He’s a liar, an abuser, and a cheat.”
“He’s also a murderer,” Mr. Preston adds.
I say nothing.
“Detective,” Charlotte says, “I’m sensing my client is tired. It’s been quite a day for her, given that this morning she was wrongly accused of murder and now she’s having tea in her living room with her accuser. Was there anything else you wanted to say to her?”
Detective Stark clears her throat. “Just that I, uh, regret that you were…detained.”
“That’s very kind of you, Detective,” I say. “I hope you’ve learned an important lesson.”
The detective shifts in her chair as if she’s seated on a sharp pin. “I’m sorry?” she says.
“Perhaps you jumped to some conclusions about me. You expected certain reactions that you consider normal, and when you didn’t see those reactions, you assumed I was guilty. You made an A-S-S out of U and Me.”
“That’s one way to put it,” she says.
“My gran always said that to live is to learn. Maybe next time you’ll avoid assumptions.”
“We’re all the same in different ways,” Juan Manuel adds.
“Huh,” she says. “I suppose.”
With that she stands, thanks us for our time, puts on her boots, and leaves.
Once the door clicks shut behind her, I slide the rusty dead bolt across it and breathe a huge sigh of relief.
I turn around and instead of emptiness, in my living room I see the faces of my three friends. They are all smiling, the kind of smiles that reach their eyes. For the first time in my life, I think I understand what a true friend is. It isn’t just someone who likes you; it’s someone willing to take action on your behalf.
“Well?” Mr. Preston says. “That detective just ate so much humble pie I think she might explode. How does it feel, Molly?”
I’m relieved beyond measure, but there’s more to it than that. “I…I’m not quite certain what I did to deserve this,” I say.
“You didn’t deserve any of it,” Charlotte says. “You’re innocent.”
“I don’t mean the crimes. I mean the kindness the three of you have shown me, for no good reason.”
“There’s always a reason for kindness,” Juan Manuel says.
“You’re right,” Mr. Preston says. “And you know who used to say that to me all the time?”
“No,” I say.
“Your good ol’ gran.”
“She never did tell me how you two knew each other,” I say.
“No, I expect she didn’t,” he replies. He takes a deep breath. “We were engaged, once upon a time.”
“You were what?” Charlotte says.
“That’s right, I had a life before you, my dear, a life you know very little about.”
“I can’t believe this,” Charlotte says. “I’m learning this only now?”
“So what happened?” Juan Manuel asks. He settles himself into the detective’s empty chair.
“Your grandmother, Flora, she was a wonderful lady, Molly. She was kind and sensitive. She was so different from other girls her age, and I was completely besotted. I proposed to her when we were both sixteen, and she said yes. But her parents wouldn’t allow it. They were well-to-do, you know. She was miles above my station, yet she never acted that way.”
I’m surprised by what I’m hearing, utterly shocked. But perhaps I should have known that Gran had her secrets. We all do, all of us.
“Oh, how your gran loved you, Molly,” Mr. Preston says. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“And you kept in touch with her over the years?” I ask.
“Yes. She was friendly with my wife, Mary. And from time to time, when Flora was in trouble, she’d call me. But the real trouble happened early.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Did it ever occur to you that you had a grandfather?”
“Yes,” I say. “Gran called him a ‘fly-by-night too.’ ”
“Did she?” he says. “He was many things, but never that. He’d never have flown away if he’d had a choice. He was forced. Anyhow, he was known to me. A friend, you could say. And you know how things happen when love is fresh and the blush is still on the rose.” Mr. Preston pauses to clear his throat. “As it turns out, Flora was with child. And when she could hide it no longer and her parents found out, that’s when they really turned their backs on her, for good. Poor girl. She wasn’t yet seventeen. She was just a child secretly running away with a child of her own. That’s why she became a domestic.”
It’s hard to imagine, Gran on her own like that, losing everything, everyone. I feel a heaviness on my shoulders, a sadness that I can’t quite name.
“She was bright, your gran. Could have won scholarships to any school,” Mr. Preston says. “But in those days, as an unwed woman with child, say goodbye to education.”
“Now, wait just a second, Dad,” Charlotte says. “Something doesn’t make sense. Who was this friend of yours? And where is he now?”
“The last I heard, he has a family of his own that he loves very much. But he’s never forgotten Flora. Never.”
Charlotte’s head cocks to the side. She eyes her father in a funny way that I don’t quite understand. “Dad?” she says. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“My dear girl,” he says. “I think I’ve said quite enough already.”
“Did you know my mother too?” I ask him.
“Yes. Now, she was a true fly-by-night, I’m afraid. Your gran had me try to talk some sense into her when she shacked up with the wrong fellow. I went to see her, tried to pry her from the flophouse she was living in, but she wouldn’t listen. Your poor gran, the pain of that…of losing a child the way she did…” Mr. Preston’s eyes fill with tears. Charlotte grabs his hand.
“Your gran was so good, that she was,” Mr. Preston says. “When my Mary was struggling near the end, your gran came to her rescue.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Mary was in extreme pain and so was I. I sat by her bedside holding her hand, saying, ‘Please don’t go. Not yet.’ Flora watched it all, then drew me aside. She said, ‘Don’t you see? She won’t leave you until you tell her it’s time.’ ”
That’s exactly what Gran would have said. I hear her words echo in my head. “Then what happened?” I ask.
“I told Mary I loved her and I did as Flora said. That’s all my wife needed to rest in peace.”
Mr. Preston can’t hold back his sobs any longer.
“You did the right thing, Dad,” Charlotte says. “Mom was suffering.”
“I always wanted to repay your gran, for showing me the way.”
“You have repaid her, Mr. Preston,” I say. “You’ve come to my aid, and Gran would be grateful.”
“Oh no, that’s not me,” Mr. Preston says. “That’s Charlotte.”
“No, Dad. You insisted on this. You convinced me we had to help this young maid you worked with. I think I’m starting to see why it was so important to you.”
“A friend in need is a friend indeed,” I say. “Gran thanks you. All of you. If she were here, she’d say it herself.”