Hope's Angel
Page 23
Greg nodded. “I really don’t have anything against them, you know.”
His words took Connie by surprise. “I never thought you did. She just wasn’t ready to tell everybody.”
They drove through town, then turned down her street. The windows above the store were still dark.
“How long before your parents come home?” Greg asked as he pulled up beside the curb.
Connie shrugged.“I have no idea. If other relatives are around and they start playing cards, it could be hours. If not, they could be right behind us.”
Greg turned off the motor and lights as he gave her a sideways glance. “What are they going to think if they come home and find us there alone?”
“I guess it depends on what we’re doing.” She gave him a teasing smile and pushed her car door open.
They climbed the stairs and went into the darkened kitchen. The house was silent; no one was home. After turning on the light above the kitchen sink, Connie went into the living room and turned on the television and the lamp beside the couch. She had learned her lesson. The curtains were drawn; no one would be able to see in, and she would hear her parents coming into the kitchen before they could see her.
She turned to Greg and unzipped his jacket while he unbuttoned her coat. They smiled into each other’s eyes, and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
The anorexic physiques of the Fairchild women came into Connie’s mind as his kisses grew more intense. Perhaps Connie’s well-rounded figure was just another manifestation of her peasant background, but, somehow, she didn’t think the youngest Fairchild son was going to judge her negatively for it.
Chapter Nineteen
Thursday, December 12
Connie and Gianna walked down Barre’s Main Street, stepping over small patches of snow that had tumbled onto the sidewalk from the copious snowbanks along the curb. Christmas lights twinkled in storefront windows, and the decorative holiday banners stretching over the street swayed in the afternoon breeze. Connie had taken her last final exam, and school was over for a few weeks.
“Was it hard seeing Nino again?” Gianna asked.
Connie’s mind drifted back to his three-day leave the weekend before, remembering how good he looked, but how different. His black t-shirt had stretched across an impressive set of upper body muscles and a taut midriff, and he seemed older, more serious, definitely more mature. He had done most of the talking when he came to see her on Sunday, telling her about his experiences on Parris Island, reassuring her that his time in Vietnam would be a piece of cake. Only his soft brown eyes had revealed how scared he really was. “He’s changed a lot. He’s a real marine—the buzz cut, the whole thing.”
“Did he say anything about you and Paul?”
Connie shook her head. “I don’t know if he even knows. Besides, it’s over. There’s nothing to say.” She thought about Nino’s face once more, how he had left her with a bear hug and an overly optimistic smile and his APO address written on the back of her mother’s Christmas card list.
“When I was getting my hair cut the other day, Anne asked me about you. She said Paul’s not seeing anybody, and he’s been going out and getting drunk a lot.”
“Not my problem.”
“She said it’s because you won’t give him a chance.”
Connie turned to look in the store window beside her. It was full of colorful posters advertising Caribbean cruises and trips to sunny Hawaii. She didn’t want to think about Paul. “I really don’t care what she said. I’m not interested.”
“So, you’re happy with Greg?”
“Very happy.”
“Good.” Gianna nodded. “Maybe Christmas dinner with his family will go fine.”
Connie grimaced at the thought of navigating that obstacle course again. “Maybe.”
“You said his mother’s not so bad.”
“I’m not sure.” Mrs. Fairchild’s patronizing smile flashed before Connie’s eyes. “She could be hoping his fascination with the paesana from the other side of the tracks will wear off if she doesn’t fight it.”
Gianna sidestepped a patch of ice. “Do you think that’s what’s happening? With him, I mean?”
“I hope not, but who knows?”
Gianna’s expression was solemn as her dark eyes searched Connie’s face. “When he’s at the house, he sure acts like he’s nuts about you. And I’m not just saying that.”
“And I’m not saying that he’s doing it on purpose,” Connie said. “But it could be a subliminal thing, a reaction to his family pushing him to stay in line—to get back with that Candy person whose mother went to Mount Holyoke with his mother.”
They paused outside the door of a kitchenware shop, and Gianna’s face took on an expression of pain. “Anne asked me if I thought it was right to have mixed race kids.”
Connie was appalled at the audacity of Paul’s sister. “What the… What did you say?”
Gianna looked miserable. “I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say.”
“Well, you’re going to have to figure out what to say.” Connie shook her head in disgust. “Geez, why can’t people mind their own business?”
“I think he’s going to get me an engagement ring for Christmas,” Gianna said quietly. “He asked me what I thought of his sister’s emerald ring, like he was surprised it wasn’t a diamond, but I think he was really fishing for what I like.”
“So, you’ve talked seriously about getting married?”
“Yes.”
Connie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”
Gianna kept her gaze on the sidewalk. “He’s going to be thirty-three in a few weeks. He’s sure of what he wants.”
“That’s nice, but what about you?”
“I’m sure.”
Connie tried to read Gianna’s expression.“Are you? Don’t do this because you think he’s your only chance. Marriage is for life.”
Gianna let out a long sigh. “I love him, Connie. I really do.”
“Okay, then.” Connie reached for the handle of the door to the kitchen store and forced a smile. “It sounds like this place may be just what you need. Let’s go shopping.”
***
With college out of session, Connie and Greg each took the opportunity to spend time with family members. For Greg, it meant an overnight trip to Northampton to visit Garrett and Emily, followed by three days in Providence, Rhode Island, where Glenn was going to culinary school at Johnson and Wales.
Connie spent the week before Christmas working in the store, Christmas shopping, and decorating the house and tree. Christmas was on a Wednesday, and on the Friday before, she and Angie walked to the duplex to visit their grandmother and bring her a batch of homemade Christmas cookies. Light snow was falling when they headed home in the early darkness, and all around them, on the outsides of homes and businesses, colored lights blinked on, bright with Christmas spirit.
“You must feel like a child of divorced parents,” she said to Angie as they walked, “spreading yourself between two households for Christmas.”
“I try to think of it as being doubly blessed,” Angie said with a grin.
Connie laughed. “You would.”
“Paul’s heading this way,” Angie said softly. “See him?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Connie could see Paul hurrying toward them from the hardware store across the street. She made a point of looking away as he approached.
“Connie, I need to talk to you,” he said, coming up on them. If he even noticed Angie, he gave no indication.
Connie kept her eyes averted and shook her head. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Connie, I just want to talk.” He glanced at Angie, and she gave Connie a quick tap on the arm.
“I’m going to wait for you around the corner. Okay?” She arched her eyebrows to say the decision was Connie’s.
Connie nodded reluctantly, and Angie walked away from them. Connie stood still,
her face turned from Paul’s, her eyes on the gaudy Christmas lights strung along the eaves of the house on the corner.
“Con, I need you to listen to me. Just listen to me. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because Tony didn’t know it was you, and I’m the one who said it was Tina.”
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. Connie turned to him in shock.
Paul’s beautiful eyes were intent on her face, as though they could mesmerize her into believing him; his handsome features conveyed pain-filled longing. “Tony was looking through curtains. He couldn’t tell who was on the couch. He just told his mother somebody was on the couch with me, and she told my grandmother. When my nonna demanded to know who it was, I told her it was Tina. I didn’t care what they thought of Tina. But I swear, Connie, it was you. I was never with Tina.”
Connie stared at him. If that were true, she had pushed him away after he had protected her. She had said nasty things to him on the phone. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” Her heart overflowed with anguish.
His eyes continued to bore into hers. “You don’t. But when did I ever lie to you?”
Connie considered the ramifications of his story. “What happened to Tina? Did your grandmother go to her parents?”
“I don’t think so. My nonna’s not like that. The only reason she told Mariana was because Mariana asked. I never expected it to get back to you. Not like it did.”
Connie searched his eyes for deceit and saw only unmitigated sorrow. She felt sick to her stomach. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say we’re okay. That we can go back and start over.”
Panic rose in her. “My parents believe you were having sex with Tina. So does the rest of my family. They would never understand why I would go out with you again.” She knew she was hedging on telling him the whole truth, but she wasn’t ready to say he was out of the picture because she was in love with Greg.
His eyes drilled into hers. “Con, we will never do that again. I promise. I will never push you that far again. I just want to be with you. I miss you so damn much.”
Connie shook her head. “You didn’t push me, Paul. I wanted it as much as you did. But it’s more complicated than that.”
“I get it. But can’t you tell them something? That I’ve seen Jesus or something? I mean, if they need a testimonial from Father Ianelli, I’ll promise on my mother’s soul or whatever the hell I have to do.”
If the pain on his face hadn’t been so intense, Connie would have laughed.
“Maybe they’ll let me apologize directly to them,” he said. “I’ll say you’ve forgiven me, and I hope they will, too.”
Connie frowned at him, not believing her ears. He was offering to take all the blame and humiliation for what they had done together. “I can’t let you do that, Paul. I’m not going to pretend I’m innocent, and you’re not. But I’m not ready to tell my parents the truth.”
“I don’t care what they think of me, Connie. This isn’t about them. It’s about you and me.” He moved closer to her, his eyes intent on hers. “I want us to be together again, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
He was making her nervous, and she shook her head again. “It’s not that simple. You know how it is. Family’s everything. I couldn’t have them thinking you’re—”
“They already think it. What’s the difference?” His face was inches away, his lips close enough to kiss. “Connie, please.”
She looked away from him, feeling frantic. “I can’t. Just take my word for it: I can’t.”
Paul tilted his head ever so slightly, watching her, studying her face. “You’re back with that guy again, aren’t you? The one you ride with.”
Connie refused to meet his eyes.
“Mr. Moneybags.”
Connie frowned at him. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s not, huh?” Paul’s eyes had turned cold. “He doesn’t live on Stratton Drive?”
“That’s where his parents live.”
He watched her for a long moment. “Don’t take this wrong. You know how I feel about you. But he’s slumming, Connie. In the long run, he’s not going to stay with you. Mommy and Daddy won’t like it.”
Connie’s ire rose at his characterization of Greg. “He asked me to marry him,” she said, narrowing her eyes in anger. “He doesn’t care what Mommy and Daddy like. We’ll both be college graduates. We’ll make it on our own.”
Paul looked dumbstruck. His cheeks went pale, and his eyes filled with disbelief. “You said yes?”
The pace of the falling snow had increased, but now the flakes, large and fluffy, hung motionless in mid-air, hovering around them as he stood staring at her, waiting for an answer. She didn’t know what to say. She needed time to absorb all that he had said. Time to think.
She searched his face, hoping to see anger that would make it easier for her to turn away from him. But all she saw was incredible pain in his eyes as he drew his own conclusions from her silence. He turned without another word and briskly walked away.
Connie was stunned. She stood in the rapidly falling snow and watched him jog across the street and disappear between two houses on the opposite side, as though getting away from her as fast as possible was the most important thing he could do. The multi-colored Christmas lights strung along the porch rails of the two houses blurred through the tears that welled in her eyes. Despair washed over her, threatening to bring her to her knees as she fought to come to terms with what had just happened. She loved Greg. She had no doubts about that. But she loved Paul, too.
And he had done nothing wrong that they hadn’t done together.
He was gone. She turned toward home with a sense of dread, drained and listless, exhausted by the emotional roller coaster her life had become. As promised, Angie was waiting around the corner, and she stepped up as Connie approached. Her eyes were fraught with concern as she peered into Connie’s face. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Connie had no response.
“What did he say?”
Connie kept walking, her eyes straight ahead as she shook her head. “I can’t tell you.” The irony of the situation was almost too much to bear.
“Why not? Are you crying?”
Connie swallowed back her tears and focused on a brightly decorated evergreen tree in a yard midway down the block. Snow was rapidly collecting on the multi-colored bulbs in its branches, turning them into glowing mounds of pastel light. “He says he and Tina were not the two people Tony saw.”
“They weren’t? Then who was?”
“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you see? Paul didn’t cheat on me.” Connie’s voice broke as she spoke the terrible truth out loud.
“And you believe him?” Angie put her arm through Connie’s , looking up into her face with serious dark eyes. “If that’s true, why did he let his grandma think it was him?”
“Because he’s covering … for somebody else.” Connie closed her eyes and brushed her free hand over her face in an attempt to control her tears. And the thought hit her—what if he decided to stop covering now that he assumed she had agreed to marry Greg? Would he do that to her? Or did he care about her enough to keep protecting her?
When she dropped her hand, Angie was staring at her, her brow furrowed, her eyes troubled. But if she had suspicions about who he was covering for, she kept them to herself.
They had reached the front of the store. Snow was collecting on the front steps, and Angie silently broke away to head for the shovel leaning against the side of the building under the stairs. It was barely five o’clock; the store would need to be accessible for another hour.
Connie did not stop to help. Her heart was aching, and all she wanted was to find a place where she could be alone long enough to think things out.
***
Papa and Mamma left after dinner to visit friends who were in town for the Christmas holiday. Gianna was still with David, Christmas shopping for his family.
The radio was blaring their favorite rock and roll station, and Simon and Garfunkel were crooning an ode to Mrs. Robinson. Neither Connie nor Angie had been allowed to see The Graduate, as the Catholic Church had rated the movie “morally objectionable.” But both were big fans of Simon and Garfunkel, and Connie smiled to herself as she listened, for she was giving Angie the album Bookends for Christmas, and she wondered if Angie was planning the same gift for her.
“I’ve decided to stay here for Christmas Day,” Angie said, as if reading her mind. “I’ll go to Swanton in the evening.”
“That’s okay with them?”
“Yeah. They understand. We’re always up so late after midnight Mass, I’d just be tired and crabby anyway.” Angie looked over at her. “Are you going to Greg’s for Christmas Day?”
“I’m afraid so. Dinner at one o’clock.”
Angie’s brow creased, and her eyes telegraphed her concern. “Is this going to work, Connie?”
“Is what going to work?”
“Isn’t it important to like his family?”
Connie looked away from Angie’s questioning eyes and concentrated on folding the dough. “It’s not that I don’t like them. I’m just not comfortable with them—yet.”
“They don’t seem to be anything like us.”
Connie kept her eyes on her work. “According to David, that’s a good thing. It forces me out of my comfort zone. Broadens my horizons.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Connie smiled at her younger sister’s astuteness. But the smile soon faded as she thought about the genesis of that conversation with David—how comfortable she was with Paul and Paul’s family.
“I, uh, kind of know what that feels like,” Angie said, “being forced out of your comfort zone.”
Connie glanced at her. “I guess you would.”