And suddenly that made sense to Tommy. He had sensed, without being able to put it into words, that he must keep aloof from Mario’s confrontation with Sue-Lynn. It was part of what they had always known. I can’t take your falls for you.
He knew now it would not have mattered if Mario had actually taken young Jack Chandler into his bed—or, rather, it would have mattered only as much as it mattered to the boy. It would have mattered far too much to Jack, and in the end, Tommy was sure, that was why Mario had not done it. But it would have in no way touched what was between Mario and himself. Nothing—he knew it now—could ever come between them again. Sex was only a part of it; an important part, but it could not be falsified into a bond of marital fidelity. Sexual fidelity was completely irrelevant to what he and Mario had together.
He was a grown man, not a child, and there was no longer any reason his own needs and desires should be subservient to Mario’s.
Bart remained silent, letting him think it all out for himself, not trying to persuade him with a word or a touch. Yet he sensed that Bart too was lonely, that despite his enormous prestige—or perhaps because of it—he was in a sense far less free than Tommy. There were not that many men he could trust or approach in simple friendship.
There was erotic excitement, of course. But it was also a genuine offer of friendship, trust, shared affection.
He turned and put his arms around Bart, laughing. And although this had not been his intention, he sensed dimly, beyond the external motives, that this too was a kind of coming of age, a way of declaring himself independent, even from the love which he now knew would always be the most important thing in his life.
“Sure,” he said, pulling Bart close to him, “let’s go to bed.”
CHAPTER 11
Bart drove him back to the motel very early. As they drew up, Tommy saw his car parked in front of the room. At least Mario was back. Bart leaned toward him, but it was already light and he did not touch him. “I’ll be down for a lesson in a few days,” he said. “Give Matt my love.”
Tommy used his key noiselessly in the door, not wanting to wake Mario. Not that he cared if Mario knew about the night past—sooner or later, he would tell him—but because he knew how badly Mario slept. But just inside the door, he whacked full tilt into something that had not been there when he left. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, he discovered that a rollaway bed had been moved in, and in the bed, a very small girl was sleeping. She had masses of curly dark hair; hugged close to her body, she held a stuffed yellow plush duck.
“Don’t worry,” Mario said, “she won’t wake up. With kids that age, once they’re honest-to-God asleep, you could stage the Battle of Gettysburg under the bed and they wouldn’t budge.”
Tommy edged carefully around the cot. “I suppose that’s Suzy, but what’s she doing here?”
It was a little too dark to see Mario’s face. “Once we got through the preliminaries, that turned out to be what Susan wanted. Seems she’s going to get married again, and I agreed to take Suzy off her hands. For good. She called up her lawyer, and I made her sign things so she wouldn’t change her mind again.” He added, with detached compassion, “I guess she’s had a pretty hard time at that. They were living in a pretty crummy place, and she was wearing a dress I bought her the year we were married. And Suzy’s underwear looks like she got it at the Salvation Army.”
Tommy blinked, not quite taking it in yet. “What are you going to do with her?”
“God knows,” Mario said, “but I wasn’t about to leave her with anybody who didn’t want her, either. I can’t figure Susan out,” he added. “I don’t think I’d want to live with somebody who couldn’t stand the idea of having my kid around. But she seemed scared to death this character would run out on her if I didn’t agree to take Suzy off her hands. You don’t mind having her around until I figure out what to do with her?” Tommy shook his head, and Mario sighed. “I’ll probably have to take Liss up on that offer. I hate to do it, but I don’t know how in the hell I’d raise a kid on my own.”
With the growing dawn light in the room the little girl’s eyes popped open and she sat up, staring around her.
“Mommy?”
“Mommy isn’t here, Suzy,” Mario said in his deep voice. “Remember, I told you you were going to live with Babbo and Grandma Lulu for a while now.”
“Oh.” She sat and considered that for a moment, and Tommy wondered if she would begin to cry for her mother. She didn’t. “Will I still go to my school?”
“Not that school, Suzy. It’s too far from where Grandma Lulu lives. I’ll find another school for you when you’re a little bigger.”
“I’m bigger now,” she said. “I’m five years old. Babbo, I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Right in there, Suzy. Can you manage for yourself?”
“Of course,” she said with dignity, then put her finger in her mouth. “You’ll have to unbutton my sleepers. The buttons are stuck.”
Mario unbuttoned her pajamas with deft fingers. The faded sleepers were tight and gaped at the tummy. She scampered toward the bathroom, holding up the unbuttoned sleepers with both hands, and Mario, watching her, said in an undertone, “She does so many things for herself that it worries me. She must have been left alone an awful lot.”
Tommy said, trying to reassure him, “Maybe she’s just smart.”
Suzy came out of the bathroom, her sleepers over her arm, stark naked. “I want a bath. I didn’t have a bath last night.”
“Suzy, I haven’t got the time to run a bath for you now.”
“I can run my own bath,” she said disdainfully. “Do you think I’m a baby? Babbo, can I open the little bitty cake of soap?”
She ran the bath—Mario, watching her unobserved from the doorway, reported that she even tested the water carefully with her elbow before climbing in—and they heard her splashing and prattling away, carefully explaining to the stuffed duck why he could not get into the tub with her. “You’ll get your nice new fur all wet.”
Bathed, and buttoned into a clean but extremely short and tight dress, she came and sat on Mario’s lap, demanding to have her hair brushed, but she was disdainful of his attempts to tie her hair ribbon, and finally flung it off, pouting.
“Maybe Aunt Stella can fix it for you when we go to breakfast,” Mario suggested, and the diversion worked.
“Who is Auntie Stella?”
“She’s your uncle Johnny’s wife.”
Suzy had ignored Tommy till this moment; now she turned to him, demanding, “Are you my Uncle Johnny?”
Tommy chuckled. One way or the other, it seemed he and Mario had acquired a family. “No, honey. I’m your Uncle Tommy. Matt, have Stella and Jock seen her yet?”
“No, I got back late with her. I’d better ring their room and break the news.”
He suggested they should meet in the motel coffee shop for breakfast, but while Mario was dressing, Stella appeared in the door, still wearing her dressing gown. She said to Tommy, with a quick glance at Suzy, “Oh, isn’t she a darling!” But although Tommy had half expected her to grab Suzy and cover her with kisses—as she had done so often with Liss’s baby—she only looked at Suzy with a tentative smile.
“Suzy? Your father suggested that I might be able to tie your hair ribbon for you. If you’ll bring it to me, I’ll see what I can do with it.” She spoke, Tommy noticed, exactly as she would have done if Suzy had been her own age.
Suzy handed her the scrap of pink ribbon. “It’s my best hair ribbon,” she explained. “Mommy got it off a box of chocolates her boyfriend gave her. Babbo was getting it all mashed. Men can’t tie ribbons, can they, Auntie Stella?”
Stella concealed a smile and said gravely that she supposed it depended on the man. She knelt before Suzy and deftly tied the ribbon into a bow. “Look in the mirror and see if that’s the way you wanted it.”
Suzy clambered on the bed to look into the mirror.
“It’s just fine,” she s
aid, patting it. “Thank you, Auntie Stella.”
“You’re welcome, Suzy. What is the rest of your name?”
“Susan Lissa Gardner,” she pronounced carefully. “My mommy is Susan, and I have an auntie Lissa. Do you know my auntie Lissa? Does she have any little boys and girls?”
“She has a boy named Davey, older than you,” Stella told her, “and a little girl, about your age, named Cleo.”
“I think Mommy and I went to see her once,” Suzy said, frowning in concentration. “She had a big Raggedy Ann doll and she let me play with it. And Auntie Lissa said I looked like Cleo, only I don’t—she’s taller than I am, and she wears her hair in pigtails. Auntie Stella, do you have any little boys and girls?”
“No, dear. Not a single one.”
“Why not? Don’t you like little girls? Mommy doesn’t. She said so to the lawyer, and that’s why she let me come to live with Babbo.” Stella flinched, and Suzy asked, “Don’t you like little girls, either?”
Stella looked quickly away from Suzy. She said, trying to steady her voice, “I like little girls very much, and little boys, too, and I wanted them very much. But I guess God didn’t want me to have any.”
“That was mean of God,” Suzy said seriously.
Stella managed to laugh, and called through the bathroom door, “Matt, I’m going to kidnap your daughter! Suzy, will you come and help me dress, so we can go to breakfast?”
“Sure.” Suzy tucked her small hand confidently in Stella’s and walked off at her side. Tommy went into the bathroom and stood watching Mario shave.
“She is smart,” Mario said. “Smart as they come. I told you.”
“She sure notices a lot. She knows Sue-Lynn didn’t want her—did you hear that?”
“I heard. Nothing I can do about it, though, I guess.”
“I think she must be yours after all, if she’s that smart. Sue-Lynn wasn’t. And she looks just like Tessa did at that age.”
“Oh, she’s mine, all right,” Mario said. “She’s got the family eyebrows, and that funny little crooked tooth on one side that Liss and Tessa both have. She’s a Santelli, all right. Not that it matters all that much. She’s mine now, anyhow.”
In the coffee shop Suzy insisted on sitting beside Stella, and ordered pancakes for breakfast. Mario demurred “Shouldn’t she have—well, oatmeal, or orange juice, or something like that?”
Stella chuckled. “Let her enjoy herself this once. When she’s settled down, you can start worrying about whether she’s getting nourishing foods and all that. She’s not going to get spoiled with Lu around.”
Mario sighed. “And that’s another thing. Lu’s really too old to raise another kid, even if I wanted—even if she really wanted to. Tommy, okay if I take the car tomorrow and drive up to San Francisco with her? I’ll call Liss tonight, and make sure it’s okay.” He sighed again, heavily. “She’s been shuffled around so much—nursery school, babysitters, all that. But I don’t know what choice I’ve got. You want to live with Auntie Lissa and your cousins, Suzy?”
“I want to stay with you, Babbo,” she said mutinously, “and Auntie Stella, and Grandma Lulu.”
Johnny said, “Sounds like someone around here has a mind of her own. Matt, how about that boarding school Angelo sent Tessa to, while he was on the road? She wasn’t but three or so.”
Mario nodded thoughtfully. “I could ask Angelo what they charge, and what the place is like. And how Tessa liked it.”
Stella flared. “She hated it! You’re not thinking of sending this little, tiny thing off to boarding school, are you?”
Mario signed, “Stel, she seems awfully young for it to me. But I’ll have to be on the road this summer, and I can’t look after a kid, living out of a suitcase. If you think it would be better to send her to Liss—”
“Ah, no, Matt.” Suzy had climbed into her lap; Stella put her arms protectingly around her. “You really don’t think you’re going to get her away from me that easy, do you? You know how I’ve wanted—how I’ve prayed—” Her voice caught in her throat. She clutched Suzy fiercely, her blonde head bent over the dark curls. She said, not looking up, “Please, Matt. Please.”
Mario glanced at Johnny, frowning. He said, “Stel, do you mean it? I don’t know. Johnny, how do you—”
Johnny reached out his hand to Stella; it fell on Suzy instead, and he patted the little girl’s back. “Look, Matt. Far as I’m concerned, what Stella wants, Stella gets.” He added, defiantly, “From what you tell me, nobody else wants the little punkin!”
“Oh, God, John, it isn’t that I don’t want her,” Mario said, troubled, but Stella interrupted him.
“Matt, I know you want her. Who wouldn’t? But this way—I swear, I’d treat her as if she were my own—our own—” She broke off, blinking fiercely, swallowing again and again, clutching Suzy to her meager breasts.
Mario drew a long sigh. He said, “Stel, if you really mean it—”
“Oh, God, Matt, if I mean it—”
“But you don’t want to give up flying, do you? I mean—”
She raised her head and said defiantly, “No, I don’t, and I won’t. I don’t want to leave her with Lucia, either. I love Lucia, but I don’t think she’s the right person to bring up—to bring up such a tiny little thing. You yourself said she’s too old. And Tessa is so quiet and—and solemn; I don’t think I want my baby to be brought up like that. I want her with me, even if I have to take her on the road. I want her to be gay and happy, to laugh a lot, to be with me all the time and know somebody loves her and wants her all the time—” Her voice broke again.
Mario sighed, this time with relief, a smile breaking through. He said, “God bless you, Stel. That was what I was worried about, leaving her with Lu while we were all on the road. Okay, Stel. We’ll have her brought up as a Santelli.” He laughed. “We won’t even have to change her name!”
Stella clasped Suzy in her arms and rocked her back and forth,, laughing and crying at once. “Oh, Matt, thank you, thank you—oh, darling, do you want to be Auntie Stella’s little girl?”
Suzy raised herself up on Stella’s lap, putting her hands up to the woman’s face.
“Don’t cry,” she said severely. “You stop it right now, Auntie Stella. Big girls don’t cry.”
~o0o~
Lucia was delighted with Suzy, though Tommy was not sure whether she was pleased with the child or with the fact that Mario had reclaimed a Santelli grandchild. As for Stella, Tommy had never seen her so relaxed, so joyous. She did not let her care for the child interfere with her regular practice with them. She arranged for Tessa to stay with Suzy after school, and offered to pay her for baby-sitting, but Angelo refused for her, saying that this was simply a family responsibility and Tessa must do her share like everyone else. Tessa reacted to Suzy as to a new doll, and would have spoiled her, until Stella told her firmly that Suzy must not have everything she wanted, but only what was good for her.
Several days after they had brought Suzy home, Stella came down unusually early, with Suzy, already dressed, beside her. Lucia raised her eyebrows; before this, Stella had rarely risen much before noon. Stella sat Suzy at the table, fetched her a bowl of cornflakes from the kitchen, and sat slicing a banana into it.
“What are you girls doing up so early?” Johnny asked.
“I’ve got to go into the city and get Suzy some clothes,” Stella said. “Honestly, she doesn’t have a rag to her back. Her feet are going through the toes of her shoes, her vests and panties belong in a ragbag, and her dresses are so short they aren’t decent even on a girl her age! I’m ashamed to take her into the store to try anything on!”
Mario chuckled and reached into his wallet. “Get her what she needs, Stel. How much will cover it?”
“Now, wait—hold on here,” Johnny interrupted. “If we’re going to be responsible for the kid, we can get her what clothes she needs. Put your money away, Matt.” And when Stella had gone to get another glass of milk for Suzy, he said urgent
ly, under his breath, “Come on, Matt. Can’t you see what this has done for Stel? Let me take care of it. I want Stel to know I’m behind her all the way on this!”
Lucia said firmly, as Stella buttered Suzy’s toast, “There is no sense in buying too many dresses for her, Stella. I have a coat and three dresses already cut out for her. And she must have a dress to wear for church; you must go to the fabric store, and I will give you a list of the fabric and trim to buy.”
Stella smiled affectionately and said, “I remember the first year I was here. You made over a coat for me out of one of Liss’s. And you made me some dresses, too. They were the nicest dresses I’d ever had in my whole life.”
Lucia smiled and patted Stella’s hand. “You were wearing rags not much better than Suzy’s, weren’t you, dear?”
“I remember. I didn’t even own a bra or a slip; you gave me some Liss had outgrown.” She leaned over and pressed her cheek against her mother-in-law’s. “You were always good to me, Lu,” she said, almost defiantly.
Mario smiled. “Well, Lu, you have your faults, but I will say that you never forgot that the two chief corporal works of mercy are to feed the hungry and clothe the naked.”
“I’ve tried,” Lucia admitted, smiling at Suzy, “though I admit some people are more fun to dress than others. Suzy looks sweet in pink, but all little girls wear pink, and I’ve dressed Tessa and Cleo Maria in pink until I’m sick of it. Be sure you get her a red plaid skirt and a bright red sweater, Stella. I think she’d look lovely in pale yellow, don’t you? And next summer I’ll make her First Communion dress.”
The Catch Trap Page 69