6 - Pages of Sin

stuff.”
    “You’re going back so soon?” Dad said.
    Mom shrugged. “We have a lot left to do.”
    “Becky,” Dad said, leaning forward in his chair. “I hope you’re not thinking of sniffing around in someone else’s business again.”
    “Yeah, Mom.” I gestured at her with my wine glass. “That’s my job.”
    Dad frowned at me, causing Mom to laugh. She reached over and touched his cheek. “Stop worrying, love bug. We’re just going to clean out some closets and box up some books. I promise. Nothing more.”
    Dad didn’t respond, but I knew he didn’t believe that anymore than I did.
    “Is Byron expecting you?” he asked finally.
    “Yes. I told him we’d be there.”
    He was pensive as he sliced off a bite of pork tenderloin and dredged it in Mom’s groovy gravy before popping it into his mouth. “I wonder if Byron knew Elaine would be there today. Why else would he come home in the middle of the afternoon?”
    “That’s what I was wondering, too,” I said.
    “He shouldn’t be going in to work at all,” Mom protested, helping herself to more homegrown green beans and adding an extra spoonful to my plate as well. “His wife just died a few days ago, so it’s perfectly natural that he’d take some time off.”
    I speared a green bean. “Can’t someone cover for him at the winery?”
    “Of course,” Dad said. After all, he was the boss at the commune winery. “His job is important, but not so critical that we can’t function without him for a few weeks.”
    “He’s probably going to work to keep himself busy,” I said, reaching for the small end piece of pork tenderloin. “When’s the funeral?”
    “No body, no funeral,” Dad said bluntly. “But Robson will have a memorial service Thursday night.”
    I grimaced. “What happened to Wanda’s body?”
    “She’s still with the medical examiner,” Mom said quietly. “Waiting for an autopsy.”
    “Oh.” Sometimes I was a little slow on the uptake. “Right. Because it was a suicide.”
    It was some kind of law that an autopsy was required when someone died from something other than natural causes. Suicide was not considered a natural cause.
    “Yes,” Dad said. “And Byron can’t do anything to speed that process along.”
    “No, I suppose not,” I said, cringing at the thought of having to wait for a loved one’s body to be autopsied.
    “Poor Byron,” Mom said.
    I nodded in agreement, then remembered his greeting to Elaine. “Although he seems to be holding up pretty well.”
    Mom bit back a smile, no doubt recalling the same thing. “Eat your green beans.”
    “I am. They’re delicious.” I forked a few more beans and shoved them into my mouth. After a minute, I said, “Has everyone else in the community rallied around Byron like you have, Mom? I can’t imagine he’d want to spend too much time alone right now.”
    Dad reached for more garlic mashed potatoes. “Joe and Jeri Spaulding are handling all the details for Wanda’s burial and service.”
    “They’re so good at stuff like that,” Mom added.
    I smiled. Joe and Jeri were like our honorary aunt and uncle and I’d known them my entire life. They had been with the commune as long as Mom and Dad and before that, the four of them had all been best Deadhead friends.
    “That was nice of them to take over,” I said.
    “Byron needed the help,” Dad said. “He’s been walking around in a fog all week. I can’t blame him.”
    “No,” Mom murmured.
    “I would be in a fog, too.” I frowned at the thought of losing someone so close to me. It would be unbearable. I looked at Mom. “I’m glad you asked me to help you with Wanda’s stuff.”
    “I’m happy you could do it,” Mom said. She smiled at me, but it faded quickly. “I’m just so confused about Byron and Elaine.”
    “He wasn’t in any fog while he was kissing her.” I took a bite of meat and spent a few seconds enjoying the flavors of Mom’s special sauce she’d made for the pork tenderloin. Dad had once called it groovy gravy and the name had stuck. Garlic, soy sauce, Dijon mustard, a squeeze of fresh orange juice, rosemary, ginger, and a splash of red wine. While Dad had grilled the meat, Mom had cooked the ingredients down until the whole thing was exquisitely rich and yummy.
    Finished with my meal, I relaxed in my chair. “We should work out a strategy for getting the lowdown from Elaine at lunch on Wednesday.”
    Mom’s left eyebrow hitched up. Okay, maybe I hadn’t