Web of Angels (35 page)

“Beef in pastry. There’s also potato,” Eleanor said. She went running every morning with her sister-in-law and had (mostly) stopped caring whether it showed on the scale or not. “Very unhealthy. I brought the knishes and the Chinese bean cakes. I can’t resist anything in pastry.” She glanced at Sharon, whose eyes were on the baby. Linny Amethyst Lewis was toddling up and down the yard with the determined pleasure of a seventeen-month-old who expected the world to get out of her way, and wailed in shock when it didn’t. Emmie had finally got over not being the youngest and Linny adoringly gripped her hand. “I love dumplings, noodle kugel. Oh my God, even gefilte fish.”

“It’s because you have a double heritage, so you get double the appetite,” Sharon teased. In the drawer of her nightstand was a pocket camera, on top a stack of magazines, an application for a distance M.Ed. program, and a teddy bear. In the last year Dan had started reading stories to the lils. There had been dancing at Hammond House and camping under the northern lights, a hunting trip, a seminar on using power tools, an evening course on the origin of the universe, many family dinners and the art of knitting, the keeping of books, the paying of bills while eyes changed from moss green to jade, from malachite to willow or to sage.

“Oh sure. Now you,” Eleanor said, her eyes shining with mischief. “Nothing shows on you. Skinny as a rake. Still the
sister-in-law I’ve always loved. Quadruple, quintuple, oh however many you are—it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“You! I’ll get you.”

“What?” But Eleanor laughed, too, for they had talked at midnight in all of the seasons, bared their hearts while the stars looked down, and shared many of their true names.

Sliding the glass doors open, Cathy carried out the cake. Her fingernails were blue, like her new mom’s, which she had painted and decorated with punky decals on the thumbs. After the final adoption papers came by courier, she had spent hours on the Internet. Poring over recipes and icing patterns, she decided on chocolate cake with a yellow sunflower in the centre and the writing in orange. Her sister’s baby, now her youngest sister, would be tasting chocolate for the first time. The basement had become the girls’ bower, where—when she was in the right mood—she taught her sisters to dance or apply makeup or arm-wrestle so that a boy wouldn’t win unless they chose. One wall was covered with drawings of Wonder Woman, Catwoman, Princess Amethyst of Gemworld. She’d made her own curtains out of a fabric printed with bold geometric shapes. There was a braided rug on the floor. In a dresser drawer, underneath her socks, was a newspaper with the front-page headline
SEATON GROVE COUPLE CONVICTED
. Every week, she—Cathy, Ceecee, the flirty girl, all of them—spent some time in a therapist’s office, setting free all that was supposed to have been locked inside.

“Happy Gotcha Day!” everyone shouted as she came out.

Her mom and dad brought their children close, sweeping her into their arms, too, as soon as she put the cake on the table. Her mom’s arms were freckled from the sun, eyes as changeable as her own. She jostled with her brother and her sisters while the grandparents and aunt and uncle and cousin and friends looked on, taking their turns in front of the camera.

After dishes were done, Mimi ordered her granddaughters to take off their shoes and socks so she could check their feet, from youngest to oldest: Linny, Emmie, Nina, Judy and Cathy. Her grandson’s feet were already bare and dirty from the yard, but she made him sit down to be examined, too. As Mimi squatted on her heels, forgiving the universe its propensity for viruses, she proclaimed,
Excellent feet
.

There are nine dimensions in total, or perhaps eleven, some too small to perceive, others too strange, too dark. But that is only because they are not yet known. They are wrapped in membranes and when the membranes collide, a universe is born. This is called M-Theory, or the theory of everything.
M
is said to stand for magic, mystery, matrix or mother.

im ally and im showing the punishers how to have a tea party. dont stick your big feets in my face i tells them. we are having inside pretend tea and pretend cookies. yesterday i sneaked them real ice cream. it isnt nice to stick your feets in somebodys nose when you are having a tea party. we is sitting on
the grass in the field cuz that is where the healing tents be. there is a bunch of lils looking but them dont come out just peeking. i look back and wave hihihi.

peoples been talking to the housekeeper. sometimes they sits in her lap. bertie says it is supposed to be wrote like this. Housekeeper with a big letter in front. bertie is bigger then punishers be. he is having the tea party too. he holds a little cup in his big hand it looks so funny. i laugh and laugh and laugh. what is funny bertie asks me. i says you be funny. your wings be sticking out i says bertie why dont you put your wings down. you look like you got elephant ears. the lils look out and go uh oh cuz them think bertie be mad. his wings go flip flop and he laughs. the punishers go hicccccccupp when they laugh too hard. i laugh harder than anybody i laugh so hard tears is coming down my eyes and bertie pick me up and put me in his lap and his wings go round me and i hides cuz i dont want nobody see me cry like a cry baby. i says i want a mommy. and he says i will be your mommy. and i says you are silly and i hiccup too. he says i Love you lil ally. oh. oh. you know what? maybe i get wings too. echo! echo! you want to have wings?

I’m so glad to have this opportunity to express my gratitude and appreciation to everyone involved in bringing
Web of Angels
to life. Dean Cooke, my sterling agent, had unflagging faith in me and this book. His entire team has been courteous, enthusiastic and efficient. Anne Collins, my brilliant and meticulous editor, understood exactly what this book was aiming to achieve, and led me to make it so. My copy editor, Angelika Glover, reviewed the final draft with intelligence and exactness. Kelly Hill designed a magnificent cover—I couldn’t have asked for better. My eyes were opened to the dedication and empathy of Toronto police officers during my research. Detective Sergeant Kimberly Scanlan, Child Exploitation Section–Officer in Charge, took the time to explain the procedures and mind-set of those very special officers who, committed to saving children, do the difficult work of catching child predators online. Detective Stacey Davis, of 14 Division Youth and Family Services, gave me insight into the passion and understanding of the local force, graciously showing me around the station. Avi Versanov,
MSW, from the Children’s Aid Society of Toronto, professionally and compassionately explained how the Society responds to calls and interviewing children. Ocean Windsong generously answered my questions about teenage boys and showed me the magic trick in
Web of Angels
. My perceptive friend Cas Rhindress read this novel through many drafts and provided a calm and encouraging voice. My husband, Allan, as always my number one fan and supporter, patiently listened to my self-doubts and exuberantly celebrated every triumph. My delightful daughters, Meira and Hadara, kept me in touch with what really matters in life.

And to my friends who are multiple: thank you for walking by my side; the perps lost, you see, for the cycle is broken and none of us is alone anymore.