There wasn’t a note but I don’t have to be a wizard to know the money is from Todd Croft. But has Todd Croft told Russ that I’m pregnant?

Let me go back.

When I found out I was pregnant four weeks ago, all I could think was that I needed to tell Russ. I was pretty sure he would offer to help. And by help, a part of me was thinking he would leave his wife, move to St. John, and raise this baby with me. It was a long shot, I knew, but not impossible. Maybe instead of making Russ’s marriage stronger, the weekend affair (I’m shying away from the word fling) had been a breaking point. Maybe Russ would say yes to the job and goodbye to Irene and start a whole new life. The boys were teenagers; the older boy was headed to college in the fall and the younger one was only a year or two behind, so they were nearly out of the house. If anyone was poised for a second act, it was Russ.

Or so I let myself momentarily believe.

I called Iowa City information and asked for the phone number for Russell or Irene Steele.

“Irene Steele,” the operator said. “Hold for the number.”

I hung up the phone. The listing was under Irene’s name. She paid the bills. She was in charge of the household. She intimidated me—indeed, scared me—even from afar. I would never call the house, I decided. I wasn’t that desperate.

I had to somehow circumvent Irene. I needed an e-mail. I knew there was probably an e-mail attached to the room reservation at Caneel. I had worked at Caneel long enough to know that all reservations were kept in a database, but that database couldn’t be accessed on any of the restaurant computers.

So I would have to ask the restaurant manager, Estella, to get it for me.

I said to her, “Please don’t tell my mother”—Estella rolled her eyes as if to say, Rosie-child, no matter how you implore me, you know I could never keep a secret from LeeAnn—“but a gentleman who stayed here over Presidents’ Day weekend begged me for the conch-fritter recipe. He wants to give it to the chef at his country club so they can serve them at his wife’s surprise birthday party and I promised him I’d send him the recipes for the fritters and the aioli. He gave me his e-mail, but I lost it, Estella. And I feel terrible. I remember he said his wife’s birthday is May twenty-third because that’s a day after mine and so time is of the essence. Can you help me find the man’s e-mail, please, Estella? I want to provide the kind of service Caneel is famous for.”