The Faithfuls: An emotional page-turner with a heart-stopping twist (The Sisterhood Series)
The Faithfuls
An emotional page-turner with a heart-stopping twist
Cecilia Lyra
Books by Cecilia Lyra
The Sunset Sisters
The Faithfuls
Contents
The Dewar Family Tree
Interview with Margaret Elizabeth Thornwood
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Interview with Mandy Edwards
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Interview with Terry Henrietta Spencer
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Interview with Patty Davis
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Interview with members of the ASC Party Planning Committee
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Interview with Jane Knowles
Chapter 20
Interview with Abigail Swallow
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Interview with Main Street business owners
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Interview with Karen Park and Lauren Park—mother and daughter
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Interview with Manuela Farias
Chapter 29
Interview with Justin Wade
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Interview with Elizabeth Pennington
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Interview with Dana Boylan
Chapter 39
Interview with Missy Stevens
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Interview with Clarisse Hughes
Chapter 54
*
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Interview with Elise Thompson
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
The Sunset Sisters
Hear More From Cecilia
Books by Cecilia Lyra
A Letter from Cecilia
Acknowledgments
For Bruno
The Dewar Family Tree
“We’re thankful to live here.”
—Thanksgiving message, Town of Alma, New York (2017)
Interview with Margaret Elizabeth Thornwood
Member of the Alma Social Club—Second Generation. Enrolled in 1990
Here’s what you need to understand: Alma isn’t just a company town—it’s a family town. We’re not Manhattan, or Brooklyn, or even Greenwich. Some people call us boring, or homogeneous, whatever that means, but what we are is close-knit. Our streets are clean, we don’t have traffic jams, and our children are raised in a wholesome environment. We don’t have an Apple Store or a Ralph Lauren flagship selling ripped jeans or studded boots for 900 dollars. In fact, don’t bother showing up in shoes by a brand other than Alma Boots. It’s considered high treason!
But what was I saying? Oh, yes. We’re a family town. We are proud of our heritage, of Backer Dewar, our very own founding father and the creator of Alma Boots, which employs hundreds of Almanacs. Our shoes are proudly made right here in America—not China or Mexico. We believe in patriotism, and we do things a certain way here, a civilized way. The people who come to Alma, NY, come to be a part of a historical community.
Which is why we were all shocked when we heard the news.
That business with the foreign company trying to buy Alma Boots was bad enough, but to have a nice couple like Gina and Bobby Dewar, practically Alma royalty, involved in a sex scandal? Well, that was too much.
When it rains, it pours.
One
Gina
Wednesday, September 4th
It begins with a phone call.
Gina Dewar is standing in front of the stove, simmering tomatoes with minced garlic and olive oil. To her left is a cutting board with fresh herbs and sliced jalapeño peppers. In a few minutes, she’ll add them to the frying pan and reduce the ingredients to a rich sauce, thick and spicy. Gina hums along with the fridge—there is something musical about their loud fridge. A crazy notion, but one that Gina is convinced of. She should know: so much of her time is spent in the kitchen. It’s her territory, her happy place.
The buzzing sound is unexpected.
Gina’s phone is alive on the granite island, Bobby’s name flashing on the screen. Gina steals a glance at the farmhouse wall clock: 5:33 p.m.
“Hello?” Her tone is tentative, confused. Bobby isn’t supposed to be calling her. His weekly staff meeting won’t be over for at least another hour. Gina knows her husband’s schedule better than her own—they’ve shared calendars for years. It’s Wednesday, which means he’ll leave Grand Central Station at 7:30 p.m. and arrive in Alma at 8:25 p.m.
“I’ll be home soon,” he says. “I took the five o’clock.”
“Did something happen?”
A pause. “I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”
Whatever it is, Gina wants to know right away. She doesn’t like to wait. Who does? But Calan is looking up from his computer, a frown on his face. Gina doesn’t want him to worry. He’s having a good day. He won’t get many of those now that the school year has begun. Calan is a sophomore in high school. According to his age, he should be a freshman. The decision to allow him to skip a year when he was only six years old had been a source of tremendous stress for Gina. Bobby had been thrilled, certain that it indicated his son’s burgeoning genius. And his teachers agreed. Gina was outvoted. Now, she worries it was a mistake. Maybe she should’ve put her foot down, insisted on Calan going through each grade at a normal pace.
She turns off the stove. The sauce can wait.
“All right, honey,” she says in a cheery tone. “See you soon.”
She puts the phone down, ignoring the familiar prickle of anxiety.
“Was that Dad?” Calan asks.
Gina takes a moment to admire her son’s angelic face: his upturned Cupid’s bow and sincere eyes. Calan has full lips and a heart-shaped face (just like Gina), and green eyes and strawberry blonde hair (just like his dad).
“Yep, he’s coming home early,” Gina says.
In the blink of an eye, Calan changes. A turtle pulling into its shell.
Gina resists the urge to hug her son. She doesn’t want to validate Calan’s negative feelings towards Bobby.
“What about his meeting?”
Gina shrugs. An attempt at a casual gesture.
“Is it Souliers?” Calan frowns. He’s a smart, sensitive boy: he can sense her unease. “Are we selling?”
Gina gives him a you know better than that look.
“What?” he says, lifting his palms. “Maybe he finally caved to the
pressure.”
“This is your dad we’re talking about,” Gina reminds him. “He doesn’t cave. Alma Boots is staying in the family.”
Calan lifts his shoulders. His turn to feign apathy. Calan likes to pretend he doesn’t care what happens to the company, but Gina knows he keeps tabs on the potential deal. Last week, she’d borrowed his iPad and caught a pro-sale opinion piece open on his browser. Gina had read the article. The author argued that a sale to Souliers would be beneficial to all parties, especially to consumers. A misguided perception, obviously. Gina had scrolled down to the comments section, relishing the heated replies from people who had enough common sense to agree with her. Many had used the now-viral hashtag: #KeepAlmaBootsAmerican. She had added her own comment—anonymously, of course.
Bobby would never sell Alma Boots, especially not to a foreign conglomerate. Alma Boots has been in his family for nearly one hundred years. Still, Gina feels a fresh ripple of apprehension. Bobby’s voice had been tense, more so than usual. What if she’s wrong? What if he ran over the numbers and realized that a sale is inevitable? Selling Alma Boots would break Bobby’s heart. Not to mention the entire town’s—the factory is what keeps it alive, thriving. It’s a true company town.
“Would you prefer to have dinner in your room?” Gina asks. This is unprecedented. Family dinners aren’t optional in their house. Gina does not approve of isolationist eating, but Bobby’s voice had sounded unusually strained…
Calan grins. “I’m pretty sure you can guess my answer, Mom.”
“Oh, very funny. I thought you liked our dinners.”
Their Wednesday-night dinners are low-key affairs. They’ve been doing it for years now, ever since Bobby began holding staff meetings on Wednesdays, in the late afternoon. Every week, Gina tries a new recipe—she’s gone through six different cookbooks. She and Calan eat in the kitchen, not bothering to use proper placemats and drinking 7 Ups straight from the cans. A few weeks ago, Calan had confessed that he much preferred their casual meals to the chic Friday-night dinners at his grandmother’s house. It had made Gina’s day.
“With Dad here it won’t be one of our dinners.”
“No, you’re right.” Gina sighs. “All right, dinner in your room it is. But just for tonight.”
Calan stuffs his hands inside the pockets of his oversized gray hoodie. Lately, it’s all he seems to wear: jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie, usually black or gray or beige. Almost like he wants to disappear inside a sense of self-imposed blandness. Although lately isn’t entirely accurate. It’s been years. Ever since the bullying began. Gina hadn’t been prepared for this part of having a teenager. And Calan isn’t even fifteen yet—his birthday is in December.
“Sweet, I’ll try out my new game. The graphics are supposed to be sick.”
“Remember you have school in the morning.” A pointless reminder. Calan is a nocturnal creature, Gina has long given up on getting him to go to bed early. His video games reek of unhealthy escapism, but they bring him joy, and he has very little joy in school.
Gina returns to the stove to finish the sauce. The homemade pasta is already cooked, set aside in a pot. When dinner is ready—freshly made pappardelle with arrabbiata sauce—Gina fixes Calan a plate.
A timer goes off. The cookies.
“Yum,” Calan says, eyeing the cookie sheet. “Chocolate chip.”
“I wanted to add macadamias, but I’m bringing them over to the new neighbors in the morning and you never know these days. Allergies.”
“Everyone likes chocolate chip.”
“Apparently, they’re just a couple, no kids.”
“How do you know?”
“Tish.”
“My grandmother, the knower of all things.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Save me a couple?”
“I always do.”
Calan disappears up the stairs with his dinner, no doubt to lose himself in his video games and graphic novels. Gina worries. It’s a lot of screen time. Although, in all fairness, it’s not all passive viewing. Calan writes and illustrates his own stories, too. That’s something. An artistic endeavor. Gina is impressed at her son’s creativity (he’s very intelligent, he takes after his dad), but she wishes his interests weren’t quite so… antisocial.
Still, she can’t complain. Calan buys his games and gear with his hard-earned babysitting money. Video games are a surprisingly expensive hobby—Calan wouldn’t be able to afford it on his allowance alone. Bobby makes a very nice living (not to mention the exorbitant sum sitting in his trust fund), but Gina doesn’t believe in spoiling their son. She is determined to raise an ethical child. Calan will learn the value of money. A lesson mimicked from her own upbringing. Probably the only one.
Bobby arrives home thirty-five minutes later, looking flushed. He slips off his shoes by the front door, sighing heavily. Gina watches as he removes his frameless spectacles, wiping the lenses with his monogrammed handkerchief.
“Hey, honey.” She moves in to give him a kiss. His lips are cold, too cold for September, but she feels his warmth when he pulls her into a hug. “Did something happen?”
Bobby’s forehead creases. He nods, downcast and serious.
“Is it Souliers?” There is apprehension building in her chest.
“No, nothing with them.” His gaze sweeps across the dining room to the right: green area rug, an oversized family portrait taken when Bitsy, their black Lab, had still been alive, an antique cherry wood table that had belonged to Richard Dewar. “Is Calan upstairs?”
Gina nods. “He already ate. Are you hungry?”
“Let’s talk first.”
Together, they turn left, heading to the living room. This is intentional on Gina’s part—it’s the room furthest from Calan’s. If this isn’t about Souliers, then it can only be about their son, and she doesn’t want him overhearing their conversation. Gina and Bobby agree on many things, but the one thing they disagree on—the big thing, anyway—is how to handle Calan’s bullying at school. Bobby’s approach is all no-nonsense and tough love. An ineffective policy. All it’s done is create a rift between him and Calan, leaving Gina stuck in the middle. Last week, Bobby had floated the idea of sending Calan to boarding school, possibly even military school. A preposterous plan. Gina is already struggling with the notion of Calan leaving for college in three years.
They sit beside each other on the L-shaped couch, the one Gina had spent an entire weekend assembling because Bobby had been sick with the flu. She smooths her hand along the brightly colored throw pillows. They remind her of fluffy rainbows.
Bobby rubs his eyes and leans forward. After drawing a deep breath, he finally speaks. “I’m being accused of sexual misconduct.”
Gina blinks. “I’m sorry… what?”
“Her name is Eva Stone.” There’s a tremor in Bobby’s voice. “She’s an analyst with the company. She’s saying we were… involved. It’s obviously not true.”
Gina stares, words jumbled in her mind out of order. “Involved? What does that mean?”
“She’s claiming we had an affair. She’s lying. I don’t know why she’s lying, but she is lying. HR informed me—”
“When?”
“When?” Bobby frowns.
“When did you find out? When did you have this conversation with HR?”
“I met with Goddard before lunch.”
“You’ve known about this for hours?” The pulse in her neck is throbbing. It upsets Gina, learning that Bobby has discussed this with the head of HR before she even knew about it. It doesn’t help that Goddard isn’t an Almanac—that never sat right with Gina, having an outsider as upper management.
“Gina, I—” Bobby rests his hand on hers. She pulls it away.
“You’re saying she’s making this up?”
“I’m saying I didn’t do this.” The tremor is gone. Now, his tone is firm, unwavering.
“Did you fire her?”
Bobby blinks. “I can’t fire her.”
“Why
not?” Bobby is CEO. He can do whatever he wants.
“Think of the optics. She accuses me of sexual misconduct, and I fire her? Can you imagine the backlash?”
Gina opens her mouth and then closes it again.
“With all this #MeToo business,” Bobby continues, “she could sue.” Gina doesn’t give two figs about a lawsuit. She’s about to say as much to Bobby, but he continues, “There’s more.” Bobby takes a deep breath. He sounds pained. “She wants me to step down as CEO. If I do, she won’t come forward with this, officially.”
Step down? Bobby has been CEO for four years. Gina still remembers the day Charles passed the baton over to him. Bobby had been elated by his father’s endorsement. As CEO, Charles had been popular, but hard to please. And the company had been struggling. But Bobby had welcomed the challenge. It had paid off: he had turned Alma Boots around. The idea of Bobby stepping down is unthinkable. Alma Boots is like his second child. And there wouldn’t be anyone to replace him. The CEO is always a Dewar—and Nick has been working at the company for all of two minutes.