by Kathryn Shay
“Now that doesn’t surprise me at all. Even though you were the youngest, you always fought their battles.”
“I guess. As the only guy in the family...”
“I understand.” She smiled. It wasn’t as bright as Brie’s, but it was genuine. And probably more pervasive than his prickly friend.
Who he’d been thinking about too much.
Which led to this date.
“So, ready for the movie?”
“Let me get my purse and sweater. I’ll be right back.” Over her shoulder she said to him, “I’m looking forward to reconnecting with you, Dante.”
When she left, he wished he felt the same.
* * *
Brie sat across from Linda King, in a safe space, doing the hardest thing she could imagine. Though it had gotten easier to bare her soul. “I feel bad about taking up your weekends, Lin.”
“I’m happy to see you.” Their appointments had been monthly since the spring. “I’m sorry I’m so busy.”
“A lot of lost souls in the world, I guess.”
Sitting back in her nubby white fabric chair, which matched the couch Brie occupied, Lin’s brows rose. “Is that how you see yourself? As a lost soul?”
“No, not anymore. You’ve helped me to get beyond that.”
“Good. Now tell me about your last few weeks.”
“I’m finally tackling the last hurdle.”
Now her brows skyrocketed. “The Phys. Ed. teacher?”
“Yeah. I went back to school on Tuesday, but I couldn’t sleep the night before. So I was raw the first day. Memories, I guess. I thought I’d be over all that.”
“Firsts are hard.”
“Then I had a car accident.”
“What?”
“I backed into Dante Federico’s Pony.”
“Pony?”
Brie explained the classic car and described the situation, including the coffee dates.
Lin laughed. “I have to say, Brie, you constantly surprise me.”
“What a fluke.”
“A positive one, maybe.”
“Yeah, I think so. I settled down about the whole thing. Dante’s a nice guy, sensitive, not like Eddie.”
“I think that’s real progress.”
Brie laid her head back. “We’re also dealing with a very serious issue.” She told Lin about Sammy Simpson. “There’s a team of teachers who have him in class. I hope we can help him.”
“Did your principal alert the rest of the faculty?”
“Of course. There might be issues in the hall, at lunch, who knows where. But Sammy seems okay right now, and he made it through the week without incident. Any pointers on helping him out?”
For a few minutes, they talked about what she could do for Sammy.
“Back to you, Brie.”
“Mariella bought Eddie’s house.”
“Wow, another surprise. Lots has happened in the month since I’ve seen you.”
“She’s redecorating, and I’m helping. We’re stenciling the kitchen and her bedroom over the weekend. It’s fun.”
At the end of the two-hour session, Lin glanced down at the notes she’d taken. “So, what do you think about seeing me again?”
“I don’t want to quit completely, but let’s extend the time in between.”
“All right. How about every three months? And that far in advance, we should be able to schedule a weekday around your teaching.”
They made an appointment, then Linda walked her to the door. They hugged, and when her therapist stepped back, she said, “I’m so proud of your progress, Brie.”
“I hope it lasts.”
“I have faith in you. A lot of faith in you. You’re a very strong woman.”
“You’ve made me believe that. I’ll be forever grateful.”
* * *
Sammy sat on his crummy bed in his crummy room. His mother told him this crummy apartment in a part of town that sucked big time was all they could afford. He had to put up with it, like a lot of other things. They’d had a great house once. In a suburb, where he’d had lots of friends. He’d played pickup basketball all the time.
A knock came on his door. He told himself not to get upset, but it could be his father. It probably wasn’t. He couldn’t come in here. After the thing he did. He couldn’t do a lot of things, like work some place decent.
Another knock. Then, “Sammy, it’s Mom. Let me in.”
He got up and unlocked the door. His mother stood before him. She used to be pretty and dressed up a lot. Now her hair was longer and greasy all the time. She wore the same jeans she’d had on all week, and there was a hole in her sneaker. “What, Mom?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn’t eat much dinner.”
The hot dogs were burned and the French fries soggy. “I got a stomach ache.”
“Okay. You know you can talk to me, honey. I wish you’d tell me about school.”
“I said it was fine. Nobody knows yet.” But they would, and his nightmare would begin again. “Listen, Mom, I wanna lie down.”
“Okay.” She left but was sad. These days, she always seemed sad.
Back on his bed, he drew out the paper beneath his pillow. Mike Jagielski sliding into home base. He’d already read the article, but went through it again. Then he fingered the autograph.
It meant a lot to him because it kept him from thinking about the fact that his father was a pervert.
Chapter 4
Sunday nights were family night for the Federicos. Dante rarely missed these get togethers. He needed not to think about other things and his clan had been the rock in his life.
Now he studied his nephew’s drawings. “These are great portraits, Jack. You’re super good.”
“Aw, thanks. I’m not as good as some of the kids in that class.”
After much persuasion, Lucia had enrolled her son in after-school art camp and let Dante pay for the lessons because she and Tim couldn’t afford them. His nephew had talent that Dante wanted to encourage. He also spent money on Anna, his niece, for games. As he told Brie, they had one coming up.
The front door of the Federico-Murphy older two-story home opened. In it stood the most important woman in Dante’s life—Georgia Federico. “Hello, everybody.” Behind her, someone else came in. “Look who I found on the way in.”
Jack jumped off the chair and rushed to her. “Hi, Nana.” Then he hugged the man who was like a brother to them. “Uncle Joey!”
Anna came rattling down the stairs. “Nana!”
Dante laughed as he approached her, too. They hugged and he said, “They were with you Friday night, weren’t they?”
“Hush your mouth. I love that they’re so glad to see me.”
“You love to spoil them.”
“Well, if I had more grandchildren...”
Ignoring his mother’s favorite line, he turned to Joe. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wasn’t sure I could make it, but I got somebody to cover my shift at the district.” Joe was his mother’s only sister’s boy. They’d lost her when Joey was five, and he’d spent a lot of time with their family. Now he was a cop in Brightwood.
“Come on in and see Jack’s latest masterpieces.”
Jack rolled his eyes, but Dante could tell he was happy to show off to his grandmother.
Joe asked, “The girls in the kitchen?”
“Yep.”
“I’m getting a beer. Anyone want one?” When Dante declined, he went through the doorway.
His mother held Jack’s hand as they went to the table. Still spritely at sixty, she was a beautiful woman. Her gray hair was silky and skimmed her chin. Tonight, she wore green pants and a top to match. She’d picked up Jack’s sketch pad. “Wow, did you do this one of your mother?” she said with the right amount of awe.
He ducked his head. “Yeah.”
“You, my boy, are a budding Rembrandt.”
Dinner was a boisterous affair with all of them talk
ing over the meatloaf, potatoes and broccoli Tim had cooked.
“How’s work going?” Dante asked his brother-in-law.
“Got several bites on investors for my fledgling computer company.”
“Glad to hear that, Tim.”
Lucia set more ice water on the table. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’ll get them. You’re brilliant.”
“Uncle Dante,” Anna said. “Mom told us you met the woman who wrote the Pickles books.”
“Alexandra Marcello?”
“Yeah, the first came out this month. I just saw the podcast. Mom says I can get one as soon as I save up for it.”
“I—”
“Don’t you dare say you’ll buy that for her,” his sister said. “Saving up is how we learn the worth of things.”
“Well, the author promised me a copy. And ones for the kids in my school. I’m sure I can get an extra.”
“Please, Mom.”
Tim touched Lucia’s arm. They were affectionate in front of the kids and everybody else. Dante thought it was sweet. “I think that’s okay, Luce.”
She sighed. “All right.”
After dinner, the kids left the table to get ready for school the next day. Dante turned to his cousin. “Life good, Joey?”
“Yeah. Me and Judy are great.” He’d recently married, and Dante envied his happiness. “The job’s good, and I’m getting a promotion soon.”
Lucia asked, “So, Mom, how’re this year’s classes?”
“I’m just getting into them, but it’s shaping up to be a good semester, I think. I particularly like the Women’s Studies course I’m teaching with Ned Black.”
“Who?”
“A Sociology professor at Georgetown.” Where she worked.
“Sounds interesting,” Tris put in.
“Speaking of that...” His mother took in a breath. “I, um, saw him last night.”
“You work on Saturdays now?” Tris again.
“No. We went to dinner.” She scanned them with knowing eyes. “Don’t blow this out of proportion, but it was a date.”
His mom? Dating? Granted, Dad had died over a decade ago, but... No, he’d be okay about this. He’d promised himself he would be. “That’s great, Mom,” he said as sincerely as he could.
The girls were silent.
His mother asked, “What do you think, ladies?”
“It’s good.”
“It’s great.”
“You don’t sound enthused.”
“It’s an adjustment.” This from Tris. “I might as well confess, too. I met a guy.”
“Wow, couples are popping up all over the place.” Lucia took a bead on her sister. “Spill, sis.”
Tris spilled. She talked about her new boyfriend with...joy, Dante guessed.
His mother talked more about Ned.
Then they all zeroed in on him. Tris asked, “So, little brother, it’s your turn. Any woman on the scene?”
Brie’s face swam before him. “I, um, had a date with Laurie Friday night.”
“Laurie from high school?”
“Yep.”
“How did it go?” Lucia asked.
“I like her. It was fun catching up.”
“But?”
“No chemistry.”
“There used to be tons of it in high school,” his mother commented. “I caught you heating up the couch in the basement plenty of times.”
“Guess we lost it over the years.”
His mom patted his hands. “You need someone, honey. And I’m not teasing you about grandchildren. Aren’t you lonely for that?”
“I guess I am. I haven’t found anybody who interests me.”
Except Brie Gentileschi. And that he couldn’t share.
* * *
“You’re a jerk!”
“You’re a pervert!”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
Dante reached the raucous exchange in the gym locker room in time to see a boy whose name he didn’t know shove Sammy Simpson up against the lockers. Three others stood by watching.
Leaping over the bench, Dante got in front of Sammy in time to take the punch to the face.
Oww...! He crumpled over and grabbed the bench between them. The other boy’s eyes widened and he dodged off, with his cohorts behind him. It was the end of the day, and they would probably catch the bus.
Dante moved away from Sammy, who stumbled to his feet. The kid’s face was red, but he didn’t see any bruises.
“Are you all right, Sam?”
Open-mouthed, Sammy stared at Dante. “Your eye got hurt.”
At a loss, Dante followed his heart. “Come with me.”
He led the boy to the Phys Ed. Office, which was off-limits to students. “Sit down.”
He sat.
Opening the small fridge in the corner, Dante took out an ice pack, put it over his eye and dropped down across from the boy. “That was an ugly scene, Sam. How do you feel about it?”
Sammy frowned. “You got hurt. Not me.”
“I’ll be fine. Maybe have a shiner, but I’ve had ‘em before. Let’s talk about what happened?”
He shook his head.
“I saw the other kid push you first. You’re not in any trouble.”
Sammy’s gaze shifted away.
“You’re thinking you always get in trouble, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Is there somebody you could talk to about this?”
Again, he shook his head.
“I’m afraid we have to report this to the principal.”
“Whatever. They’ll kick me outta here, too.”
“Nobody’s gonna kick you out, Sammy. Maybe the other kid’ll get punished.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
He faced Dante fully. “You go after him and it gets worse. He’s got friends.”
“Who were also there today and are also in trouble. We have a code of conduct in the school, Sammy. Do you know what that is?”
“No.”
“It’s a statement of what is and isn’t appropriate in dealing with each other. Things you shouldn’t do, like bully, but also what you’re required to do if you see bad things happening to other people. So here, you’re in the right.”
An expression worthy of an eighty-year-old man in pain came over the boy’s face. “Other schools say that, too, but don’t do nothin’ except get rid of me.”
The door opened and Will walked into the office. “Hey.” He scowled at Sammy then he caught a look at Dante’s face. “What happened?”
Dante stood. “Can’t say yet. Come on, Sam. We’re going to see Mrs. Price.” He said to Will, “I’ll talk to you later,” and led Sammy out of the office.
* * *
Madelyn walked into Brie’s room at 3:45 and sighed as she closed the door. From her desk, Brie lifted a cup. “Got you a cold drink.”
“I need it.”
The principal crossed to the desk and sat down in the chair Brie had brought to the front.
“Bad day?”
“Routine stuff for the beginning of the first full week.” Madelyn frowned. “And of course, I’m worried as hell about Sammy Simpson.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She sipped the iced tea. “How was he today?”
“Quiet even in group work. So far, no one in my class seems to be ostracizing him.”
“I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time. Amanda Summers and I met and set up some protocols based on what other schools do. We’ll discuss them at Tuesday’s faculty meeting.”
She studied Madelyn’s face. “This is a bad time for you, isn’t it?”
“There’s never a good time for dealing with sexual offenders.”
“Want to talk about the divorce? Last we had dinner, you said it was going through on schedule.”
“Silly me.” She rolled her jade-green eyes. “It’s gotten messy. Jared is okay with child support, but he want
s the girls more. So we’re fighting over that.”
“How often does he want them?”
“All weekends.”
“Wow.”
“The kids had a fit. They don’t even want to go every other weekend. What a cliché. He picks a younger woman to have an affair with, I kick him out and the girls hate her. And him.”
“I’m sorry. He won’t be able to get them every weekend, will he?”
“No. But it’s another hassle. And a delay. I want this over so I can get on with my life.”
Her phone buzzed. “Sorry.” Into it, she said, “Madelyn Price...yes, Sue.” Her brows rose as she stood. “I’ll be right there.” To Brie, she said, “I have to go.”
“All right.”
She squeezed Brie’s arm. “It’s about Sammy. I’ll be in touch.”
“I hope it goes okay.”
* * *
“You okay, Sam?” Dante asked as they sat in Madelyn’s office.
“I hafta be.” His face closed down even more. “I don’t wanna talk about this.”
“We’ll wait for Mrs. Price, then.”
Silent, Sammy looked out the window, so Dante studied Madelyn’s space. Usually, principal’s offices were formal. But this one was different. Maybe it was the soft blue curtains framing the open window and letting in light. Maybe it was the fact that she didn’t have a desk. Instead, an oval teak table graced the center of the room. Stenciled on the walls were quotes about education, among them:
Teachers change the world one kid at a time.
The best teachers teach from the heart.
Education brings confidence. Confidence breeds hope. Hope breeds peace.
Soon, Madelyn came through the door. She greeted them, frowned, then sat next to Sammy. “Are you all right, Sammy?”
“I told him I was. I wanna go home.”
“All right. Who can pick you up?”
“I guess my mom.”
“Before I phone her, I want to hear in your own words what happened.” She pointed to a device. “I’m going to record this, if it’s all right.”
“I don’t care.” Dante noticed he wouldn’t look at Madelyn.