If Lucinda attempted that combination, she’d look like a reject from the Jersey Shore reality show. And not one of the cute ones.
“Hi there, welcome to My Closet,” a salesgirl said.
“Hello,” Donna answered. The store’s name was meant to be cheeky, a way for women to truthfully answer their husbands when asked where their new outfit had come from.
“Anything I can help you find?”
“Just browsing at the moment. I’ll let you know.”
“Absolutely. Great shoes, by the way.”
“Thanks.” They were great shoes. So great Donna had forgotten she had them on. And usually by now, her feet would be aching for something comfier with a lower heel.
How odd. But the shoes were soon forgotten again, and a few minutes later Donna had an armful of things to try on in a swath of sizes. She had no idea what she’d shrunk down to, so trying a few was her only way to find out.
My Closet was known for its spendy, embellished jeans. Donna wasn’t crazy about looking like she’d been the victim of someone’s weekend bedazzling project, but she found a few pairs that weren’t as disco fabulous as the rest.
She picked out some black pants too. And some leggings, a couple tops, a little black dress, and a black jumpsuit. Okay, and one pair of leopard pants. That should get her started. Once she figured out her size, she’d get serious.
The salesgirl put her things in a dressing room while Donna did one more sweep of the store, but she stopped herself from getting too crazy until she knew her size. Plus, she had about half an hour before her appointment with La.
She started with the jeans, working her way through the largest size, an eight, and ending up in a four.
Time ticked by as she stared at the number on the tag in disbelief. A four? How was that possible? You didn’t just go to bed and wake up a four. You just didn’t.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The jeans not only fit, they looked phenomenal. These were a must-buy.
She got busy trying on the rest of her haul and found a few more things to add to her purchase pile. Two pairs of jeans, black leggings, some tunic-length T-shirts in small, the little black dress, and a slouchy sweater that hung off one shoulder in that sexy, nonchalant way she’d never quite pulled off before. It was a good mix. Enough to give her some options.
And as much as she would have loved to scoop up a few more fours, time was getting short. Running late to her therapist appointment would eat into her hour, and she had too much to discuss to do that.
Back in her wrap dress, she headed for the counter, arms full. “Found a few things.”
The salesgirl smiled. “Wonderful. Is this your first time shopping with us?”
“No. But it’s the first time I’ve been able to fit into anything comfortably.”
The salesgirl’s smile faltered, then she regained it. “Well…welcome back. And just so you know, new merchandise comes in every Thursday.”
“Oh, I’ll be back.” While the girl rang up Donna’s purchases, she slipped her hand into her purse and eased a few hundreds out of the bundle.
Then the girl gave her the total, and Donna eased out a few more. Whatever. This wasn’t clean money, but it was Joe’s money, and it would probably scorch him to know she was spending it on clothes.
She put the shopping bag into her trunk, then went straight into Dr. Goldberg’s waiting room with five minutes to spare. She stood in front of the fish tank, watching the angelfish glide through the water like supermodels with fins.
Dr. Goldberg came out shortly. “Hello, Donna. How are you?”
Donna smiled. If there was anyplace she could be herself, outside of Rico’s office, it was here. “I’m doing well.”
“That’s good to hear.” Dr. Goldberg gestured toward her office. “Come on in, and let’s talk about it.”
Ursula Goldberg was some kind of hippie-chick, intellectual, earth-mother hybrid. Her curly gray and white hair hung past her shoulder blades, setting off her green eyes beautifully. She was curvy and played it up with long skirts, tunic tops, and hip belts. Thick silver cuffs embraced both wrists. Her round glasses were the same shade of blue as her turquoise stud earrings.
In the warmer months, she wore Birkenstocks. In the winter, cowboy boots.
She was cool without trying, and Donna liked her immensely. There was nothing remotely Mafia about her. Except that she knew how connected Donna was, but therein lay the beauty of the doctor-patient confidentiality privilege.
Donna could tell La anything. And had.
Today would be no different.
La pulled out her scuffed leather portfolio that she filled with white legal pads and picked up her pen, then looked at Donna and said the same thing she said at the start of every session. “What’s new in your life?”
Donna took a breath. “I may have killed two men.”
Chapter Eleven
In her usual unflappable style, La put her pen to the legal pad and started writing. “What makes you think this?”
“Well…” Donna gave her the short version of the long story, leaving out the part about the cemetery and focusing on what had gone down at the industrial park. And then what Rico had told her today.
When she was all done, La nodded. “I see. It does sound like you could be responsible. And you seem to think you are. How does that make you feel?”
“Terrible.” Donna kicked off her heels and tucked her feet up under her. “Like if I’m capable of that, how am I any different than Joe?”
“You know how. What you did was in self-defense. The most basic act of self-preservation. The same can’t be said for what Joe did.”
Donna adjusted the drape of her dress. “I understand that, I do. And Rico said pretty much the same thing. But I can’t help the way I feel.”
“No, you can’t, and those feelings are valid. Do you value Rico’s opinion?”
“Absolutely. He’s one of the few people I trust.”
La jotted something down. “Has your opinion of him changed since Joe’s death?”
“No. I still feel the same way about him.”
La’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You don’t find yourself more attracted to him now that you’re no longer bound by the confines of your marriage?”
Donna snorted softly. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, he’s a handsome man. Very handsome. And he’s one of the good guys. How am I not supposed to be attracted to that?”
“It’s a natural thing to feel. Especially at this point in your life.”
“You mean because Joe’s out of the picture?”
“In part, but there’s more to it than that. You’re truly alone for the first time in many, many years. Yes, Joe is gone, but your children have started their adult lives. And you’ve spent the entirety of your marriage protecting those children, struggling with the hard truth of your husband’s life, and now that weight has been lifted. It would be understandable if everything you’ve been suppressing these last couple of decades suddenly came to the forefront, and you acted out in a manner that seems out of character.”
Donna’s mouth fell open. “Are you saying that it would be perfectly reasonable if I had a one-night stand?”
La laughed. “What I am saying is that you may feel like doing things that you never even considered when Joe was alive. Those feelings are to be expected. Welcomed, even, because they’re the part of you that’s been silenced coming to life again.”
“Some of that’s definitely been happening. But I’m not sure I like all of it. Some, yes. Some…not so much.”
“Remember that just because you feel something, you don’t have to act on it. But don’t feel bad about those feelings either.”
Donna took a breath. “Good to know. I have been going through a lot of changes recently.”
“Like the weight loss?”
“You noticed.”
“Hard not to,” La said. “You look wonderful, but losing so much weight in such a short period of time hin
ts at some underlying issues. You say you’re not really grieving, but I’m not so sure that’s true. On a subconscious level, you may be mourning Joe’s loss more than you realize.”
“This isn’t because I’m not eating, I promise. And I am grieving in a way, I guess. But this is just…” Donna shook her head while La wrote on the legal pad. Funny that she’d been able to tell Rico about the incident in the cemetery, but couldn’t bring herself to share that with La. Maybe Donna feared La would tell her it had all been a grief-induced hallucination? “Losing weight isn’t anything I set out to do, I can assure you. It was more of a surprise, really.”
“Well, listen. I know you have a doctor, but if you’d like a referral to a nutritionist, I can give you one. He might be able to help you sort this all out. Get you on a plan to keep you from becoming underweight.”
“That’s kind of you, but I don’t think it’s my diet. Not only have I had some cake recently, but last night I had a porterhouse, a loaded baked potato, a side of mac and cheese, and a buttered roll at Blue Bell’s Diner. Plus two pieces of pie, one with ice cream. I am definitely eating.”
La nodded and made some notes. “And there’s nothing else going on that you haven’t told me about?”
Donna frowned. Sometimes La keyed into things that gave Donna pause, like now. But Donna wasn’t talking about what had happened in the cemetery. “Nope, nothing.”
“All right. But your health should never be ignored. Especially as you approach menopause. Don’t you think losing so much weight so quickly is concerning?”
“To some extent, yes. But I think it’s just stress.” Donna shifted to cross one leg over the other. This really wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. “Speaking of stress, I found a secret stash room in Joe’s office. He had drugs and guns in the house. Can you imagine? With our kids there. So yeah, with that and thinking I was going to turn state’s evidence and then Joe’s death and the funeral preparations and the whole drop-off gone wrong, my stress levels have been up lately. Really up.”
“Those are all valid, high-stress events, so that does seem to track. But stress, as hard as it is, can bring about great things in our life. A Zen master once said, ‘No mud, no lotus.’ Does that make sense?”
“Yes. Sometimes the ugly brings about the beautiful. I need to go through this to get to the good stuff.”
La smiled as she nodded. “Essentially, yes. Did you feel any relief at the funeral, or was it just stress?”
“Some relief. Having the kids and Cammie there helped because I didn’t have to deal with it alone, you know?”
“Do you feel like you have to be strong for the kids?”
“I do,” Donna said. “But I also realized that they are going to be just fine. They’re smart, capable adults. You know they knew what their father was really about. It’s not like I have to pretend around them.”
“Mm-hmm. That has to be freeing.”
“It is.” Donna smiled for a moment. “But as you know, because we’ve talked about this before, I struggle with the harsh reality they’ve had to face.”
“Do they seem to be struggling with it?”
“Not really.”
“What do you make of that?”
She let out a hard exhale. “I guess they’re more resilient than I give them credit for?”
“I’d say that’s true. Where do you think they learned that?”
Donna laughed. “Me? Well, it would have to be. They didn’t learn much from Joe.”
“You are a much stronger woman than I think you realize. I want you to work on recognizing and embracing that this week.”
“I will.” Donna tipped her head, thinking about that. She did need to give herself credit for surviving her life.
“What’s next? I know you like to make plans.”
“I do. I want to move to Florida when this is all over. Start fresh. Really leave this whole world behind. I’ll miss you. And Cammie. But I’m never going to fully shake the shadow of the syndicate until I get some distance.”
“I think that’s a great idea. And I’m happy to recommend a few therapists in that state if you like. If you want to continue with therapy, of course.”
“I think I will. It’s incredibly liberating to be able to talk to someone with no judgment, no strings, and complete privacy. Not sure I’m ready to give that up.” Then Donna realized there was one other person she’d miss besides La and Cammie.
Rico.
Maybe a one-night stand wasn’t such a crazy idea after all. The image that suddenly filled her mind caused her cheeks to warm and a sudden smile to bend her mouth. She tipped her head, causing her hair to fall around her face.
“What’s the little smile about?” La asked. “What just came into your head?”
Donna laughed softly and brushed a strand of hair back. “If I’m being honest, and I have no reason not to be…Rico.”
La smiled. “Because if you’re going to move anyway, you might as well test those waters. Am I right?”
Donna laughed a little louder this time. “You know me too well, I think.”
“You’re a woman in the prime of her life, undergoing great emotional upheaval. My only advice is don’t do anything if you think you’ll regret it.”
“I don’t think I’d regret Rico.” Donna stared at the oval table between them and the iridescent blue bowl filled with clear and white marbles. “But it would hurt to get rejected by him, that’s for sure. And I’m pretty sure there’s an FBI policy about not sleeping with informants, so it’s probably best I don’t knock on that door. Better to just admire him from afar and keep my fantasies to myself.”
“Whatever you think is best.” La glanced at the clock on the bookcase. “Our time is almost up. Anything else you’d like to discuss before our session ends?”
Donna kicked her legs out and slipped her feet back into her shoes, sitting up straight. “Yes. One thing. If Joe left me money, and I know it’s essentially blood money…” She tried to put her tangled thoughts into words.
“Should you feel guilty about spending it?”
“Yes.”
“You already do, or you wouldn’t be asking me this. Find a way to do something good with that money. Something you feel balances the bad. Or get rid of it. Maybe even a little of both.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to do. Thank you.” She pulled the straps of her purse over her shoulder and stood. “Great session.”
La got to her feet, her long skirt swishing. “Same time next week?”
“Absolutely. See you then. Have a great day.”
“You too.”
Donna went out to her car feeling like things were on the right path. Complicated, for sure, but nothing was so off the rails she couldn’t handle it. After all, she’d managed her crazy life for this long and done a good job of it. There was no reason she couldn’t keep managing it.
She started the engine and got onto the highway headed for the convent. Giving some of Joe’s money to the convent would help a lot. She was excited about and looking forward to seeing her sister.
Maybe she could talk Cammie into transferring to a convent in Florida. Could nuns do that? Donna had no idea, but she was going to ask. Or at least bring up the subject. It would be great to have Cammie in Florida with her.
If Donna went to Florida. She wasn’t having doubts, exactly, but if the FBI sewed up the Villachi crew, was there really a need for her to move? She’d still sell the house. It was too big and held too many memories she was ready to forget.
But maybe she’d just buy a nice condo somewhere. She could still buy a little place in Florida. Be one of those snowbirds.
She suddenly realized she had more options than she’d considered. Now she just had to figure out which ones made the most sense.
She took the exit for the convent and fifteen minutes later pulled into the parking lot of the Sisters of the Holy Rosary. She grabbed the boot box filled with cash and headed into the chapel.
After this donation, they ought to let Cammie do whatever she wanted.
Although, Donna had already decided the donation would be anonymous. There was no other option. Not if she wanted to distance this money from how it had been earned. If earned was even the right word, which it probably wasn’t.
She genuflected at the back of the chapel and crossed herself, lifting her crucifix to her mouth. There was such peace here. She could see why this life held appeal. The chapel was empty except for a sister kneeling at the front. Her head was bowed in prayer.
Donna went straight to the donation box. The slot wasn’t meant for large things, so she had to take the money bundles out of the box and put them in one by one. She kept an eye on the praying sister, but the woman stayed kneeling the entire time.
When the last bundle was through, Donna left the chapel and dropped the box in a trash receptacle as she walked around the building to the entrance of the convent.
Her being felt lighter for having made the donation. Part of her wished she could tell Cammie about it, but part of her was thrilled to have gotten rid of some of Joe’s blood money in such a positive way.
But the real thrill came from knowing that Joe would have lost his mind over such an enormous donation.
And if that made Donna petty, then so be it. Because petty felt amazing.
Chapter Twelve
She followed the flagstone path around the side of the building. Crispy fall leaves littered the trail, crunching underfoot. The scent of woodsmoke filled the air. It was a perfect autumn afternoon, really.
It would probably turn into the perfect night to use the fireplace. That might be nice. Lucky would certainly enjoy it.
She lifted her hand to knock on the convent door, but it opened before her knuckles touched wood.
Sister Agnes Magdalena stood there. Donna recognized her only because she wore a particular blue ceramic-bead rosary that she’d gotten while serving in Guatemala or Nicaragua, something Donna knew because of Cammie. “Can I help you?”
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