“Yeah.” He looks over my shoulder, presumably at Rose’s table. “If you want to go, I’ll cover you. They’ll probably never notice you, but I’ll distract them anyway.”
I try not to look too eager or relieved. “Thank you. I think I will.”
“Hey, no problem.” He grins, but he still looks a bit sad. “It’s the least I can do.” With that, he gets up, and a minute later I hear him launch into some story about his cousin’s wedding. I take a last sip of my wine, then slowly slide out of my seat and head for the door. Clyde was right: between the crowd and his story, no one notices me.
Chastity
BY THE TIME that I get back from the mission, my mother is already in the kitchen preparing dinner. “You’re a bit late today,” she says.
“Sorry, Mom. I spent some time talking with Diana and her friend.” David was especially talkative, so much that I almost got the sense that he didn’t want to go home. Diana, on the other hand, was much quieter than usual. I hope that she’s alright.
I’ve just begun to set the table when my mother says, “Oh, Chastity, before I forget, you had a phone call. Someone named Lucy?”
I fumble with the knives, and one of them clatters against a plate. “Sorry,” I say when my mother spins around to see what the noise was. “Lucy?”
“That’s right.” She turns back to the stove. “Her number is by the phone. She mentioned that she would be available all evening, and that she hoped that you would be able to call her back, because she’ll be busy most of this coming week.” I can hear the disapproval in my mother’s voice long before she adds: “I found her very abrupt. Is she one of the other volunteers at the mission?”
“No, she’s one of Matthew’s friends.”
“Oh,” my mother replies, as though this explains everything. “You must have made an impression if she’s calling you directly. Perhaps she’s organizing some sort of surprise for Matthew?”
She’s certainly made an impression on me. “Could be. His birthday is still a few months away, though.”
After dinner and a long bath, I find myself sitting by the phone in my bedroom with no more excuses for not calling Lucy back. I wonder if it might be too late to call her by now, but a glance at the clock tells me that it’s barely eight. For her, this is probably more like early afternoon.
I pick up the receiver, but hesitate with my hand over the number pad; a few seconds later, I set the receiver back down. What could she want with me? It can’t be anything good. I take a few deep breaths and try to calm myself. “Do not fear those who can only kill the body,” I recite softly. “Rather, fear your Father in Heaven, who can destroy both body and soul in the furnace.” I have a job to do: I have to save Matthew, and Lucy’s standing in the way. I can’t let her scare me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let her stop me. I pick up the phone and dial her number quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Um ... Lucy?”
“Who’s this?” I’ve barely opened my mouth when she answers her own question. “Chastity, of course.”
“Yes. You called me earlier?”
“Yeah. Getting a head start on church?” I think I can hear her laughing softly. Don’t let her goad you. There’s a reason anger’s a deadly sin. “Matthew wants us to go out again.”
“Oh. Did he ask you to invite me?” I’m torn between relief that Lucy may not want anything more and disappointment that Matthew didn’t call me himself. Why would he have asked her to do it? He must realize we don’t get along.
This time, Lucy laughs out loud. “I really hope you’re joking. No. He just read me the riot act about how I can’t be such a bitch to you this time.”
“So why did you call, then?”
“Because I want to talk to you before then, without him.”
“Oh.” I twirl the phone cord around my hand absently as I think it over.
“That a yes or a no?”
“It’s ... a yes.” I close my eyes for a moment. Breathe. You can do this. “Where should we meet?”
“How about Monday night, at that place we went to last time? It’s always deserted on Mondays.”
“Alright. I’ll see you then.” I roll over and begin to hang up.
“Chastity,” Lucy says icily, and I freeze with the phone a few inches from my ear. “Don’t you dare tell Matthew about this.”
Briefly, I consider doing just that, but decide against it. You don’t make yourself look good by tearing others down. Besides, if I do that, I’ll lose my chance to meet with Lucy one-on-one. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Good. See you at eight.”
It takes me longer to find the bar than I expected, and so I arrive out of breath and nearly ten minutes late. Already at a disadvantage. I take a moment to steady myself before I walk in. Breathe.
I spot Lucy in a corner booth. “You’re late,” she says without looking up from her drink.
“I know. I was just —” I break off and close my hand into a fist behind my back. Don’t ramble. Don’t make excuses. “Sorry.”
“Whatever. You going to get something to drink? They don’t have waiters, and Matthew’s not here to serve you.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” She takes a sip of her drink as I sit down across from her. This is it. I can’t fail. I won’t fail.
Lucy is silent for what seems like a long while, and while I wait for her to say something, I find myself studying her. Today, she’s wearing a black skirt suit; her blazer and briefcase are lying on the seat beside her. She looks very professional, and several years older than she did last time.
“I just can’t figure it out,” Lucy says suddenly, and I straighten up quickly. Focus.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, I can’t figure it out.” She leans back in her seat. “What’s your deal?”
My deal? I manage to refrain from repeating Lucy’s words aloud. Belle says that makes you sound stupid. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Lucy’s eyes narrow, and I do my best not to react to her staring. “You really piss me off.”
“I —”
“Shut up. I’m talking.” She taps her nails against the tabletop. “I had this all figured out at one point, you know? What I’d say to you if I ever met you. I was so ready; I just needed the chance.” Her fingers slow down, then stop. “I don’t know what to say to you now.”
“What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask you where you got off thinking you were so much better than everyone else. I was going to tell you that you were just a sheltered little bitch, and if anyone was going to hell, it was you.” She says this so easily, like she’s just repeating some news she heard from a friend.
“Why would you want to say anything like that to me? You didn’t even know me.”
“Because of what you did to him.”
“What I did to ...” I blink. “You can’t mean Matthew.”
“Of course, Matthew. Who the hell else could I be talking about?”
“But ... I haven’t done anything to Matthew.”
Lucy glares at me. “Nothing, huh? Is that what you call ten years of your religion bullshit?”
“It’s not ...” I clear my throat. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Whenever I’ve discussed religion with Matthew, he’s been indifferent, or hostile. He’s never been ... hurt.” I would have noticed. I would have known. If she saw it, I certainly would have.
“Come on. You must be playing dumb now.” Lucy pauses. “Then again, maybe not.”
“Stop insulting me.”
“I’m surprised that you even realize you’re being insulted.” Lucy smiles coldly. “Why didn’t you just join a convent as soon as they’d take you?”
I know that her question isn’t serious, but I can’t stop myself from answering it honestly. “It isn’t my vocation.”
“And converting the heathen hordes is, I suppose?” When I don’t answer, Lucy sighs. �
��You poor, sick little girl.”
“If you can’t be civil, I’m going to leave.” I slide closer to the edge of the booth, but Lucy grabs my wrist.
“I’m not done with you.”
I begin to pull my arm free, but stop before I’ve done much more than loosen Lucy’s grip. If I leave now, I won’t have accomplished anything. She’ll still be a factor in Matthew’s life, and more than that ... If there’s any chance she’s right, I have to make sure that she isn’t. Instead of pulling away, I rest my arm on the table.
“Tell me,” I say. “What do you think I’ve done to Matthew?”
“I know what you’ve done to Matthew.”
“What do you think you know, then?”
Lucy’s upper lip curls back slightly, but she doesn’t press the point any further. “There’s a part of Matthew that’s still a good little Catholic boy, and it’s scared you’re right, and he’s going to hell for being himself.” She pauses, and I realize that whatever she has to say next is making her uncomfortable. “For some reason I’ll never understand, Matthew loves you, but he feels like you can’t accept him for who he is, and that hurts. Can you understand that much?”
I open my mouth to speak, but it takes time to find the right words. That isn’t what I meant at all. There’s no way that Matthew could have understood that, no way that he feels that way ... I meet Lucy’s eyes, and am shocked to find something there besides hatred. She’s really trying to protect him. She believes that she’s right ... and where could she have gotten an idea like this except from Matthew? Even now, I begin to recall instances where Matthew seemed more evasive than hostile, too eager to get away, more upset than angry or dismissive.
“Why wouldn’t he have said something to me?” I’m still not sure I believe Lucy, but I also know the idea’s not impossible. “I mean, if it’s true, why didn’t he just tell me I was upsetting him? I would have stopped. I would have backed off.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’d have pulled some shit like showing up at his place with some sob story.” My eyes widen, and she smirks. “He does tell me things from time to time.”
I force myself to ignore this fresh piece of bait. “Even if you’re right ... what can I do?” I meet her eyes. “I will not give up on his soul.”
“Of course you won’t.” Lucy lifts her glass and swirls the liquid inside around. “What you should do is get your nose out of his life and leave him alone. He’s better off without you.”
“I would never do that. He’s my brother; I love him.”
“Then start acting like it.” Lucy sets her glass down. “Love the brother you’ve got, and let him make his own peace with God.”
I bow my head and let my eyes run over the tabletop. Father, what am I to do now? I came here to meet an enemy, and find myself being judged. For the first time in a long while, perhaps since I first began to speak with God, there is no reply, and eventually, I have to look back at Lucy. “I need some time. I need to talk to him.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But —”
Lucy strikes the table with her open hand. “You keep your mouth shut about this. I promised him I wouldn’t interfere, and if he finds out that I did, so help me God you will pay for it.”
My eyes flick between her face and her hand, and eventually, I nod slowly. “Okay.”
“Good.” Lucy finishes her drink and pushes the glass aside. “I’m done.”
I nod again, and stand up. “Thank you,” I say to Lucy, and am surprised to find that I mean it. “I appreciate this chance.”
“Uh-huh.” Lucy pushes her hair back from her face, almost as though she’s embarrassed. “Just get out of my sight.”
Diana
AS THE CLOCK in the dining room chimes eleven o’clock, I finish folding the last of the napkins and place them on the coffee table beside the pastries that I picked up from the bakery earlier today. Belle often asks me why I go to the expense of buying them when I could just take ten minutes to make a plate of sandwiches instead, but I’ve never seen the point in going to even that much trouble. This way is easier, and more presentable besides.
With that done, I take a long look around the living room. Everything seems to be in order, but I run my fingers over the end tables and TV to make sure that there aren’t any lingering traces of dust from my mother’s Thursday morning cleaning. Just what I’d need, to have the others find me scrambling around with the feather duster. Sue would never let me live that down ... presuming, of course, that she’s coming.
I have no idea whether Sue will show up today; I haven’t spoken with her since she threw me out of her apartment during the last meeting. It’s not that I’m upset; I just don’t want to deal with her when she’s like this. When she’s ready to stop feeling sorry for herself and get her act together, then I’ll be there to support her, but I refuse to validate her current behaviour.
“It isn’t that simple, Diana,” Belle told me yesterday when I said as much to her.
“Of course it is,” I replied. “Is she chained to that bed?”
Belle didn’t say anything more, but I could almost hear her thinking: “You don’t understand.”
Maybe I don’t, I’m willing to concede as I take the canister of tea out of the cupboard and put the kettle on. I’ve never felt like that, so depressed that it was an effort to get out of bed. But I can’t imagine any logical person thinking that would be better than standing up and
facing their problems. I take the teapot from the top of the refrigerator, where I left it after I polished it last night, and put four teabags inside. A minute later, the kettle begins whistling, and I’ve only just put the teapot on the coffee table when the doorbell rings.
It’s Belle. “Good morning, Diana,” she says as she hugs me, and I roll my eyes behind her back. “How are you today?”
“Fine.” I reach into the closet for a hanger as she takes off her coat.
“Has no one else arrived yet?”
“No. You’re early.”
“Am I?” Belle looks at her watch. “Only by a few minutes.” She sits down in the armchair facing the window and leans forward to inspect the pastries. “My, these look delicious.” Her eyes flick toward me briefly before they return to the table. “They must have been expensive.”
“They weren’t.” I go into the kitchen for the milk and sugar and set them down near the teapot. “Even if they were, it’s impolite to call attention to it.”
“Oh, come now, Diana. We’re family.” Belle’s grin is just a bit too broad, and I shift the teacups around to hide my discomfort. “Speaking of family, where are your parents?”
“Out.”
“Oh.” Belle continues looking around, and I wonder if she expects my parents to jump out of a closet. “Did they have something to do?”
“Not really.” I look at her. “They make sure to be out when we have a meeting here. Why are you acting like that’s news to you?”
Belle turns a bit red. “Today might have been different.”
“Why should it be?” The doorbell rings again, and I get up to answer it.
“Hi,” Chastity says. She gives me a smile as I step back to let her in, but there’s something off about it.
“Hi.” She sits down at the end of the couch furthest from Belle. As I sit down at the other end of the couch, I follow Belle’s concerned gaze to Chastity, who’s staring blankly down at the coffee table. Here it comes.
Sure enough, Belle asks: “Are you all right, Chastity?”
Chastity looks up and nods, much too eagerly. “Oh, yes, I’m fine. It’s just ...” She shakes her head. “We’ll get into it later, I’m sure.”
“Of course. If you’d care to discuss it now, though ...”
“No, that’s alright. But thank you, Belle.” Chastity returns her attention to the coffee table. I glance in Belle’s direction and raise an eyebrow; she frowns, but doesn’t press Chastity any further.
We sit there in silence for an uncomfortab
le several minutes until the doorbell rings a third time. “Hi,” Denise says breathlessly when I let her in. “I’m not late, am I?” She’s wearing a scarf, which she unwinds in front of the mirror in the entryway.
“No,” I reply as I take the scarf from her and drape it over a hanger. “You’re on time.” I glance at my watch. “Just about.”
“Oh, good.” She attempts to rearrange her windblown hair, but gives up right away and goes into the living room. I linger in the entryway until the greetings and hugs are over with, then follow her.
“I just totally lost track of the time,” Denise is saying when I walk into the living room. She’s taken my place on the couch, and so I take the empty chair instead. “Thank God the bus was late ... but I still had to run up the street like an idiot to catch it.”
“That should teach you to leave on time,” I say.
Denise laughs. “I guess, but I can use the exercise.”
Belle chuckles; it sounds very forced. “Can’t we all?” she says with one eye on the window, and I suddenly realize why she’s distracted.
“Sue isn’t coming,” I say.
Denise shifts uncomfortably in her seat; even Chastity, entranced as she is, bites her lip. Belle, for her part, simply blinks at me in confusion. “Where did that come from?” she asks.
I hate it when she plays dumb. “You’re looking for Sue. Do you seriously expect her to show up?”
Belle hesitates. “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”
I stare at her. “Really?”
“Well, of course, you’ve had your differences recently —”
“We haven’t spoken since she threw me out of her apartment.”
“— but these meetings are supposed to be times of sanctuary, times when we can set our problems aside.” Belle gives me a hard look. “I’d like to think that, even if some of our problems involve each other, we’d be able to call a truce for the greater good.”
The greater good? Setting our problems aside? What is she talking about? ‘Distance from our problems’ ... do we get that by discussing them? “I don’t have a problem with her coming, as long as she’s bothered to make herself presentable and she can behave like a civilized person. But she’ll have to get out of bed first, and from the way she reacted when I suggested that, I doubt it’s going to happen anytime soon.”
A Tale of Beauty Page 14