I was surprised when Dave called a few minutes later and asked if he could take Ben for the day. This wasn't his weekend to have him, and I had expected him to be spending time with Cara.
“There's this new movie out I think Ben would like. I thought I'd take him to see it, then have dinner out somewhere.”
I'd read about the movie he'd suggested. It was supposed to be suitable for kids but with jokes that adults would appreciate too. The animation was supposed to be stunning. I had thought about taking Ben to it myself, but the cost of movies meant we didn't go as often as we wanted to.
I had planned on taking Ben to the playground. But I wasn't going to stop him from spending time with his father. Dave had missed several of his weekends with Ben lately and I knew my son missed his dad.
“Sure, that'd be fine.” Ben was awake by then, so I arranged a time for Dave to pick him up and then passed the phone to Ben so he could talk to his father.
As I expected, Ben was excited about the idea of seeing the movie and spending time with his dad. He was jumping around in his bedroom. I thought a little time spent outdoors would both calm him down and give him the exercise he wouldn't get at a movie theatre, or the burger or pizza place his father would no doubt take him to later.
Clouds were starting to blow in, but it wasn't raining yet. I could see a few children in the play area at the back of the co-op. When we got down there, Ben was thrilled to see Aiden. He ran over, eagerly chatting about the movie he was going to see.
Jeremy stood up from the bench where he'd been sitting at the edge of the playground. Thinking about the note I'd found, and the picture of Jeremy in the co-op so long ago, I hesitated before joining him. But his smile was so welcoming, I thought my nervousness was ridiculous. Jeremy had been so friendly. He couldn't be responsible for the note. And I must have misunderstood what he'd said about moving into the co-op after his di-
I walked over to join him.
“Dinner was great last night,” he said. “Thanks again for organizing it.”
His gorgeous smile was welcoming. I still felt nervous, wondering if I should ask him about the picture I'd found. But I hesitated. If someone was trying to warn me not to investigate, then announcing I was still looking into things would be stupid.
“It was nice, wasn't it?” I said, trying to sound casual. “And everyone helped too. So it really wasn't much work at all. Thanks for bringing the wine, and the casserole. I'm pretty sure Ben ate some of the sweet potatoes as well as the marshmallows. He was always so easy to feed when he was a baby. I never had much of a problem getting him to try new things. But now he's turned fussy. And he's usually such an easy-going kid.”
Jeremy didn't seem to notice anything amiss in my manner. “I think Aiden went through a picky stage at about the same age,” he said. “Fortunately he's going through a growth spurt right now, so he pretty much eats everything. Not that he doesn't have favorite foods, though. I think he'd live on hamburgers if I let him.”
I laughed. I really thought I could like this guy. It was crazy to think he had anything to do with the note. “With Ben, it's pizza,” I said. “He thinks pizza is just about the best thing on earth. Spaghetti is almost as good, but broccoli or salad, not so much.”
“I think I felt the same about vegetables when I was his age. I remember my mom making me stay at the table until I ate at least some of my peas. I used to really envy this kid I knew who had a dog. One little slip from the plate to the floor and the vegetables were gone.”
I thought that part of Ben's problem was that his dad didn't make him eat balanced meals when they spent time together. But I wasn't going to share that with Jeremy.
“I guess I just need to keep giving him healthy food and hope he eats at least some of it,” I said. “I look forward to him growing out of the picky stage.”
“Cheer up,” Jeremy said. “Once he reaches puberty, you won't be able to keep food in the house. I remember when I was that age and my mom complaining about how much groceries cost every week. I guess I'll have to start saving up for when Aiden's that age.”
I looked at my little boy, laughing as he tried to use the teeter-totter with the much bigger Aiden. He kept rising to the top and shrieking with protesting laughter until Aiden pushed off and let him down again. It was hard to imagine him as a gangly teenager, eating mounds of food and growing quickly. I hoped his dad and I would be able to cope with the teenage hormones.
Jeremy had given me the perfect opening to ask if he had lived in the co-op as a teenager. But then he went on.
"So,” he said. “I gather you used to work at the Sun.”
“Yeah, I was a reporter for a few years. I liked it. It was always exciting. Now I'm doing contract work, mostly writing and editing for corporate clients but also some articles for magazines and newspapers.”
“That's a coincidence,” Jeremy said. “I'm self-employed too. I do graphic design—mostly ad or newsletter layout, or designing logos and packaging. But I get to do some illustrations. And I paint when I have the time. I like the freedom of being self-employed, but it's been a bit tough finding work in the current economy.”
“Tell me about it! But working from home makes it easier to spend time with Ben when I need to. And moving into the co-op has really helped us. We were spending so much to rent the condo we lived in. And the stairs were really hard for my father. The co-op was really a life-saver for us.”
“Yes, it's been a good place to live. And to raise kids in. Aiden likes the co-op a lot. And of course . . .”
Again there was a chance to ask him about the picture. But we were interrupted by shouts from the two boys. They had moved to the swing set and were yelling at us to watch how high they could go.
“Of course,” Jeremy went on, “Les was a bit concerned because Aiden spent a lot of this summer with his grandparents in Ontario, his mother's family. You know we've had a bit of trouble with over-housing in the co-op? Some of the children of the older members have grown up and moved out. So the members are living alone in two or three bedroom apartments. And they don't want to move, but the co-op is trying to encourage them to downsize to a smaller apartment. So Les was a little concerned when Aiden wasn't around for a couple of months. It's up to the board to set a good example. Anyway, Aiden is back at school now, and he lives with me every second week. So I guess I can keep my two bedrooms.”
I sighed. “Yes, I heard about that policy. Apparently one of my neighbors wanted my apartment for her daughter and grandchild, even though there are only two of them. She seems to hold me personally responsible for the fact that they didn't get into the co-op.”
“Ah, yes. Naomi. I think we've all heard her on that subject. It's too bad but don't worry about it. I think everyone understands why your family got that unit.”
We lingered there for a while, chatting. I kept thinking I could ask if he had grown up in the co-op, or at least had known some of the children. But somehow I couldn't think of how to frame the question without making it sound like an accusation.
Some intrepid reporter, I chided myself. I suspected that some of my fears were of endangering what was a new friendship and might be more. And I looked at his engaging smile and thought he couldn't possibly have anything to do with the note or Les's death.
And then I told myself that it wasn't the first time a man had lied to me. But thinking of Dave reminded me it was getting close to the time he had arranged to pick Ben up.
I stood up, calling to Ben.
“It was nice talking to you,” Jeremy said. “We should do this again some time.”
My head was a mess of conflicting thoughts as we headed back to the apartment. But I found myself smiling. Jeremy was fun to talk to. And maybe our friendship would develop into something more. In any case, it was good to know he was a graphic artist. I'd have to look at his portfolio. I quite often collaborated with artists on the layout of some of my projects. Maybe some of his clients could use a good writer. We might be able to forge a useful work alliance, if nothing else.
If he wasn't a murderer.