Free Informed Consent by Melissa F Miller

his utensils and plate so as to ensure his place setting was perfectly aligned. The last time she’d seen him this agitated was the night they’d met. That evening, she’d chalked his nerves up to the fact that they’d just found a dead body in a Dumpster, but he later told her it was because he thought she was cute. Leave it to Connelly to be unfazed by a corpse but rattled by a girl.
    She turned her attention to her mother, who seemed to be oblivious to her son-in-law’s nervousness. Whatever was on Connelly’s mind, it was probably best left unsaid until her mom left.
    “Thanks for watching Finn and Fiona today,” she said.
    Valentina waved a hand and glanced at the twins, who were sound asleep on their blanket on the floor. “They were dolls. It was easy—and fun.”
    Sasha gave her a knowing look. Taking care of twin two-month olds was sometimes fun, but it was never easy. “It looks like you wore them out.”
    Her mother covered a small yawn with her perfectly manicured hand. “They wore me out, too. In fact, I hate to eat and run, but I really should get going. Dad texted me that he was leaving Sean’s a half an hour ago. If I leave him home alone too long, he’ll eat his way through a container of ice cream.”
    She stood and pushed in her chair then folded her napkin into a tidy square and placed it on the table. “Thanks for the delicious meal, Leo.”
    He came around the table to hug her. “You’re sure you can’t stay for coffee and cookies? Your daughter’ll make me eat fruit for dessert if you go. Stay. You’d be doing me a favor.”
    Valentina giggled and patted his arm. “Fruit’s better for you anyway.”
    Sasha retrieved her mother’s coat from the hall closet and met her at the door with it. “Have a good night, Mom,” she said as she helped her into her coat.
    Her mom leaned in and presented her cheek for a kiss. “You, too, sweetheart.”
    Sasha wrapped her sweater around her body, hugging it tight against the chill and watched from the porch as her mother got into her car. She waited until Valentina had pulled out and rounded the corner before going back into the warm house.
    Connelly was in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.
    “I’ll finish that,” she said.
    As she approached the counter, he blocked her with a playful hip check. “I’m done now.” He added a dishwasher pod and started the machine.
    “Just like a blister. I show up when the work’s done,” she smirked.
    He shook his head and topped off her wine. “Here, finish off this bottle. Unless you want to join me for a scotch.”
    Uh-oh. Scotch. Either they were celebrating something or whatever he was nervous about was really bad.
    “Wine’s fine for me.”
    While he poured his drink, she checked on the babies; they were still sleeping. Finn had rolled to his side and thrown an arm around his sister. Her heart squeezed at the sight.
    She joined Connelly in front of the fire and leaned in close. “So, what did you have to tell me?”
    “Tell you?” he echoed.
    She cocked her head. “Come on, Connelly. You don’t think I can tell that there’s something on your mind? You did everything but pull out a ruler to line up your silverware at dinner.”
    He chuckled and shook his glass gently, swirling the liquid inside around the lone ice cube. “Hank got back to me about my dad. Well, about Doug Wynn.”
    “And?”
    “As far as he can tell, Wynn is clean.”
    “That reminds me,” she said, “Naya wasn’t able to find out anything about Mr. Wynn, but she did manage to figure out how he found you .”
    He looked up from the glass with an expression of mild surprise. “She did? How’d he track me down?”
    “My mother.”
    “Pardon?”
    She took a sip of wine. “Apparently, my mom announced the twin’s arrival to her church. I think she sponsored altar flowers in their honor, if I remember correctly. Anyway, the church newsletter—which is available as a public PDF on the website archives—lists