by Robin Roseau
“Pastor Grace said you’re sitting with us today,” Sue Ellen said.
“That’s what she told me, too.”
“Good.”
And then we set to the real cooking.
* * * *
Four of us sat in the front, just to the left side of the center aisle. I found myself with Sasha on my right and Sue Ellen on my left, with Lisa Jean past her. The service was, in some ways, about what I expected, but in many ways it was quite different as well.
I’d been to weddings and funerals. I had an idea what a church service was like. There was a lot of standing up and sitting down. There wasn’t any kneeling, like there had been at one of the weddings I’d attended.
And there was singing, and while I thought they borrowed from some Christian music, it was different than I expected. There wasn’t an organ. Instead, there was a small band, and they were good. Even better, most of the songs were quite upbeat, happy songs. Oh, it wasn’t like the movies of some southern black churches – I didn’t even know what denomination those churches might have been – where everyone is singing and clapping to the gospel music. But it was a lot closer to that than the liturgical droning I had expected.
It was uplifting. It was very uplifting.
There was a reading. Grace invited a man to give the reading. It wasn’t from the Bible.
It was from the Buddha.
I should have expected something like that. Grace had told me this was an all-inclusive church, after all.
But no, I wasn’t expecting something from the Buddha. It was quite simple, only a few lines.
Many garlands can be made
From a heap of flowers.
Likewise, many good deeds can be done
By one born human.
There were a few more songs, and then Grace gave a sermon about the joy in performing good acts. She told us that good people performed good acts not to buy their way into heaven, but simply because they were good people who cared about the people and the world about us.
It wasn’t a long sermon, and it wasn’t earthshaking, but it was sweet, and you could have heard a pin drop.
There were more songs. There wasn’t any sort of Eucharist. But there was a greeting to those around us, and it lasted for several minutes. Some people simply clasped hands; a few kissed cheeks. Grace stepped down from the sanctuary. I received a chaste but proper kiss; others received kisses upon their cheeks. And I received those from Sasha, Lisa Jean, and Sue Ellen, and hugs, too.
It was quite sweet.
Later, from the front steps of the church, Grace spent time with her parishioners. I stayed with her for a while, but eventually I moved back into the church, roaming about for a minute. There was a piano near the front, to the right side. It had been used for a few of the songs. I sat down at it and stared at the keys for a while.
It had been a long time since I’d sat at a piano. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But finally I lifted my hands. I couldn’t really remember any of the songs I used to play, only smatterings. I played a little, anyway. I tried to work my way through the simplest of the sheet music I found, but all I could do was play a simple melody line.
Then Grace was there. I looked over at her. She was smiling. “You play.”
“Clearly not well,” I said. “My grandmother tried to teach me. I was never very good, and now it’s been a lifetime ago.” I paused then closed the piano. Without looking at her, I said, “Grace, I liked the service.”
“I’m glad,” she replied. “I thought you might.”
“I hope you’re not disappointed I came back inside.”
“No, Teigan Dove. We aren’t all extroverts.”
“No, we aren’t,” I agreed. “I like Sasha.” I laughed. “It’s a little odd to use that name with someone of clearly Nordic heritage.”
“She is a beautiful woman,” Grace said.
“I imagine you say that about every member of your church.”
“Certainly not. I believe the men would be quite offended.” I laughed. “Hungry?”
“You know, maybe for a small bite, but not really.” Then I smiled. “Maybe hungry for something else.”
She returned my smile and held her hand to me. Together, we walked from the church, to her house, and to her bedroom.
Searching
Time passed. May became June, and still I stayed with Grace. I asked for duties, any she could give me. She was amazing to watch, and I wanted nothing but to be near her. I thought she felt much the same way.
But time passed, and May became June. And so I found myself in her office, catching her between meetings. She smiled at me. “Hello, my darling.”
“Grace,” I said. “Do you have a computer?” She cocked her head but then gestured to a device on her desk. I didn’t recognize it for what it was. “That’s a computer?”
She didn’t ask why I didn’t recognize it. “I have a keyboard, but I don’t use it very often.”
“I don’t think I know how to use that.”
“I can show you,” she said. “Why don’t you come to this side?”
I nodded and moved my chair around. “How do you use it if there’s no keyboard?”
“Voice and gesture,” she said. “Teigan Dove.”
“I’ll explain,” I said. “But not yet.”
“All right.” Then her tone changed. “Frankie.”
And over her desk, an image appeared. It was translucent, but easily viewable. “Good morning, Grace.”
“Good morning, Frankie,” Grace said.
“Your computer’s name is Frankie?” I asked.
“She came that way,” Grace explained. “What did you want to do?”
“Is there still an internet?”
She cocked her head then said, “Yes.”
“I want to do some research. Grace, this is part of my official duties.”
“The ones you haven’t explained or performed since arriving here.”
“Yes,” I said. “Those duties.”
“You’re about to ask me to show you how to do these searches, but you’re not going to let me watch.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve made promises to me, Teigan Dove. I expect you to keep them.”
“I will. Please, Grace. Soon. I promise.”
“All right. Let’s say you want to go shopping. Frankie, locate a women’s shoe store.”
The image changed, and we were presented with a map of the Minneapolis area, done in three-dimensional view, and there were flags all over the city.
“Frankie, one half mile.”
The image zoomed, centered on the church.
“Frankie,” I said. “What is the population of Minneapolis?”
“The population of Minneapolis, according to the 2040 census, is four hundred and ten thousand, nine hundred and seventy-one.”
“What was the peak population of Minneapolis?”
“The peak population in Minneapolis was four hundred and twenty-five thousand, two-hundred eleven, according to the 2030 census.”
“Frankie, find Grace Ware.”
“There are four women known as Grace Ware living in the Minneapolis/St-Paul area. Do you wish a wider search?”
“Find Pastor Grace Ware.”
“Pastor Grace Ware is seated beside you.” And then Frankie provided a photo of Grace. I stared at it for a minute.
“Frankie,” I said, my tone subdued. “Do you know my name?”
“Grace calls you Teigan Dove,” said Frankie.
“Frankie, you are quite amazing.”
“Thank you, Teigan Dove.”
“Frankie, do you have a tutorial?”
“What sort of tutorial do you wish?”
“Do you have a tutorial that would teach me your capabilities?”
“Of course, Teigan Dove? Should I begin the introductory tutorial?”
“Later, Frankie,” Grace said. She turned to look at me. “Desert island.”
“Something like that,�
�� I said. “Not a living thing in sight.” I cocked my own head. “Well, I think that’s accurate. It was quite stark.”
“You’re serious.” She sighed. “Soon, Teigan Dove.” I nodded acceptance. “I have someone coming in a few minutes.”
“Mr. Garner offered a few things I could fix. I’ll be around somewhere.”
* * * *
It was two evenings later that I had my first opportunity alone with Frankie. Grace was working with a couple that was to be married in the church, and they were discussing the ceremony. I had her office to myself.
I accepted Frankie’s tutorial. I learned how to access written records, and I learned a handful of gestures she understood, in addition to voice commands.
“Frankie,” I said finally. “I want to find someone.”
“Pastor Grace is in the nave.”
I laughed. “I know. Frankie, I am looking for a woman named Marley Mann. She is about fifty years old and may go by the alias of Poppy.”
“Marley Mann,” Frankie said. She displayed a photo of a middle-aged woman. “Frankie,” I whispered. “Are there earlier photos?”
“I am unsure,” she replied. “How much earlier?”
“Circa 2017.”
“I am seventy percent sure this is the same woman,” she said. And then she displayed a photo of Poppy on stage at Club Vixen. “I have three hundred and seventy photos from 2014 until 2023 that appear to be the same woman.” She flipped though several until I told her to stop.
“Do you have a progression of photos?” I asked.
“Yes, Teigan Dove.”
“Can you show me photos from 2017 until the first one you displayed?”
“Of course.” And she did.
It was Marley.
“Frankie, is she alive?”
“Yes, Teigan Dove. Do you wish more information?”
“Where is she living?” She offered an address, and I stared at the map. It was only eight blocks away. I grabbed paper and wrote it down. “Thank you, Frankie. Do you have information on any other dancers at Club Vixen?”
“I have photos from Club Vixen,” she said. “One woman resembles you, Teigan Dove.” And she showed me a photo, dressed as Lacey. “This woman is older, and this photo is from 2017.”
“Her name is Teigan St. Claire,” I said.
“Teigan St. Claire, Detective, Minneapolis Police Department.” She showed my official ID photo.
“Frankie, are their newspaper accounts of Teigan St. Claire dated after 2017?”
“Forty-seven,” Frankie answered after a moment. “Would you like me to summarize?”
“Yes.”
“Detective Teigan St. Claire of the Minneapolis Police Department disappeared under mysterious circumstances.” Frankie gave a brief outline of the news.
At no point was Evaline mentioned. Nor was Club Vixen. I asked if there were any official ties between the Teigan from Club Vixen and Detective St. Claire.
“Not in any records I am able to access.”
“Frankie,” said Grace’s voice, startling the crap out of me. “Are Teigan St. Claire and Teigan Dove the same woman.”
“Grace!” I complained.
“Unlikely,” Frankie replied.
“Explain your analysis.”
“Don’t answer that, Frankie,” I said. Frankie ignored me.
“There are distinct similarities between the two women, especially if I access earlier photos of Detective St. Claire. However, Detective St. Claire was born in 1980, and no known anti-aging treatment existed that would have held her apparent age in the low twenties. Furthermore, there are distinct differences in the bone structure of their faces.” And then she showed how my current cheekbones were slightly higher, my nose slightly narrower, and my chin just slightly less pronounced.
Theophania had made a number of changes, after all. I hadn’t even remembered all of them.
“Frankie, likelihood Detective St. Claire is Teigan Dove’s mother.”
“Possible,” Frankie replied. “I would require DNA samples from each to make a proper determination.”
“Grace, that’s enough,” I said. “Frankie, why did you answer her when I asked you not to.”
“She answered because she recognizes my authority,” Grace said. “Frankie, are there any records of Special Agent Teigan somebody who may be Teigan Dove.”
“Searching.”
I folded my arms. Frankie wasn’t going to find anything. I was pretty sure she didn’t have access to the sort of records that would answer that particular question.
“None found,” she declared a half minute later. Grace and I had spent the entire time looking at each other.
“Grace,” I said. “I told you I’d answer your questions when I was ready.”
“If you can be searching those sorts of things,” she said, gesturing to the image over her desk, “You’re ready.”
“Please give me a little more time. I know you don’t understand. Grace, I have not lied to you.”
“I want to see your badge.”
“Give me a little more time. Please, Grace.”
“I have conditions,” she said.
“What are they?”
“One. You promise. No running away.”
“I won’t run away, unless I’m chased.”
“If you’re chased, you will find a way back to me.”
“I will do my best, as long as I know I’m not bringing danger to you.”
“Then you will call me, and we will discuss it.”
“Grace, can we do this part on good faith? If I have to run, it won’t be because I want to. But I absolutely will run before I subject you to danger.”
She paused. “Promise.”
“I promise. Was that it?”
“No. You may do all the research you want, from that desk.” She pointed. “You will not step foot off sacred ground unless either I am with you, or you have explained.”
I considered for a moment, then nodded. “All right.”
“Promise.”
“I promise, Grace.”
“All right. I’m sorry, Teigan Dove.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. Frankie, thank you for your help today.”
“You are welcome, Teigan Dove.”
Evidence
I knew I’d have to explain everything, and soon. I’d made promises, and somehow, I didn’t think I was even capable of breaking them. But I couldn’t sit here much longer, now that I knew Poppy was alive and living so close. Two evenings later, my intentions were overcome by events.
“I’d like to go out for dinner tonight,” Grace said. “Can we have a date, Teigan Dove?”
“I’d like that, Grace,” I said. I moved closer, and we wrapped around each other, kissing sweetly. Then I whispered in her ear. “I’m almost ready to explain everything. Can we have one or two more good days together first?”
“Of course, darling.”
We each dressed up. I pulled out my cop clothes, the only thing remotely dressy that I had. She wore a blue summer dress and looked quite lovely.
At the front door, I went to the closet to retrieve my gun. Grace didn’t say anything, but like she always did, she patted my jacket over the gun, once it was settled.
“Why doesn’t this bother you?”
“It does,” she said. “But I think you would feel naked without it, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I think I would.”
“If you’re going to feel naked around me, I want to see you naked,” she said. I roared with laughter.
* * * *
We held hands for the walk to the restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a little sandwich shop three blocks away. But the booths were comfortable, and we reached across the table to hold hands.
Halfway through the meal, Grace cocked her head. “What?”
“What, what?”
“You’re looking at me oddly.”
“I love you.”
She froze, and then she beamed. �
��I love you, too, Teigan Dove.” I looked down, but she reached across the table and lifted my chin. “Love is a gift, Teigan Dove.”
“I shouldn’t have let you fall in love with me.”
“Are you a bad person, Teigan Dove?”
“No. But it’s complicated. It’s very complicated.”
She released my chin. “Are you going to leave me?”
“It’s not simple,” I said.
“Are you?”
“Probably.”
“Have you been clear about that from the beginning?”
“I’ve tried to be.”
“I don’t want you to leave, but I know you have something you need to do. I know this is probably only for a while. It is still a gift.”
I smiled, although I was torn. I shouldn’t have fallen in love. I shouldn’t have let her fall in love, either. I was going to end up hurting her. I was going to hurt myself, too.
“Stop it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I complained.
“You’re chastising yourself,” she said. “Stop it. You came to our church, homeless and utterly lost. Do you feel either of those anymore?”
“No.”
“Good. You needed me, Teigan. And frankly, I needed to be needed.”
“You have an entire congregation that needs you.”
“None of them need my bed,” she said. “Yes, they need me, but you needed me in a very different way. It wasn’t the meals I gave you. You needed me. You needed Grace, not Pastor Grace.”
“I think I needed both.”
“I think you’re right,” she replied. “Well, I needed to feel like a woman again. And I am fairly sure whatever you are going to do next involves me.”
“No.”
“Oh,” she said. “I am not accepting answers like that until you’ve explained. Now, say it again.”
“No.”
“Not that!” she complained. “I love you, Teigan Dove.”
“I love you, Grace,” I said. “And I love sharing your bed with you. I love when I wake up, and I’m holding you.”
“At first, when I woke up, I was holding you, but for the last week or so, it’s been you holding me.”
I cocked my head then nodded. “You’re right. I hadn’t noticed. I love you.”