* * *
After breakfast, Nonna and I go to mass. I have to wear a dress, which I don’t like, because they’re not comfortable. Nonna has this thing about pantyhose too, which makes it even worse. She’s horrified by bare legs. I hate pantyhose. They never stay where I put them. They’re always inching down my legs. I try to pull them up discreetly, but Nonna always nudges me and tells me to stop. They drive me insane. I always see other girls with bare legs at mass. I have pointed this out to Nonna, but she is stubborn.
Mass itself isn’t that bad. I like to go. I like how pretty the inside of the church is, and I like the way everything feels ceremonious and serious. Being in church makes me feel part of something ancient and powerful. I feel tied to tradition. It’s similar to the way I feel about family.
Today, in addition to feeling uncomfortable in my pantyhose, I’m feeling uncomfortable because I killed Joey Ercalono. I know that Joey deserved to die. I don’t know if God would feel the same way about it as I do, though. I also know from Catholic school that if I confess the crime to a priest, he can withhold absolution unless I turn myself in.
Which I won’t be doing.
I spend all of mass contemplating the state of my immortal soul. Am I going to Hell?
Joey Ercalono was evil. He just was. Through and through. Some people are like that. And what about Tressa? Did she deserve to die? Would God have forgiven Joey for his sins?
Maybe, I decide, it’s a good trade off. If I’ve sentenced Joey to an eternity in torment, then I don’t mind if I have to do the same. I hope that if Joey tried to confess the murder of Tressa, the priest withheld his absolution too. Are there priests that will give absolution for murder? Even if there are, do their absolutions mean anything? Penance is part of absolution. I know for sure that Joey Ercalono didn’t do any penance, because he wasn’t sorry. He was never sorry for anything.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because to get absolution for sin, you have to be repentant. And I don’t feel sorry that I killed Joey Ercalono. Not really. I didn’t like seeing him like that. I didn’t like doing it. But he’s better off dead, and I’m glad I did it.
Thinking thoughts like that in the church makes me feel like I might burst into flames. I guess I’m lucky that God isn’t like he was in the Old Testament, smiting people all the time. Sometimes I wonder about why God stopped smiting people and turning up in burning bushes and stuff. I wonder if he got bored with us, or if after he sent Jesus, he just got fed up. He was like, “I let you people kill my Son, and you’re still screwing everything up. Forget about it.” I mean, that doesn’t sound much like God, I know. But I wonder.
Tommy is at mass with his wife and their little boy. Afterwards, he comes to talk to me. “How are you holding up?”
I’m not sure why he’s asking this. Is he asking me if I’m worried about Guido, about being the boss of the family, or about Joey? I shrug. “I’m okay.”
“It can be tough, the first time back in church afterwards,” he says. “If you need to, there’s a church in the city. A priest there, Father Santavenere, he gives different sorts of penances, if you know what I mean. He’s got no love for the police. If it’s, you know, bugging you.”
I smile gratefully at Tommy. “Thanks.” But after what I’ve thought about today, I’m not sure if “different sorts of penances” really mean anything. “I know it was the right thing, though, Tommy. I don’t regret it. I’m not sure if you can be forgiven for something you’re not sorry for.”
He shrugs. “That may be true, Olivia.” He claps me on the back.
I like the fact that Tommy always treats me like one of the guys. He never makes me feel different or weird because I’m a girl. He’s always straight with me too. I remember what I asked Nonna this morning. If anyone would give me the truth, it would be Tommy. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“It’s about my mother.”
“Your mother? I didn’t know her very well.”
“I know,” I say. “Vincent said something to me at the hospital about the way she died. I think he was just trying to get under my skin, but it’s bothering me.”
“What did Vincent say?”
“He said my mother ratted out the family and that my father had her killed because of it.” I pause, waiting for Tommy to say something. He doesn’t. “Is it true?”
Tommy shakes his head. “If it is, Olivia, you have to understand how difficult a position your father would have been in.”
I swallow. It is true, isn’t it?
“Hey, I see that face you’re making,” says Tommy. “I don’t know one way or the other about it. Lucio didn’t share that kind of thing with everybody. He did a lot of things himself too. You’re like him in that way, stepping up to take down Joey. You took the responsibility. That’s the way he was. If he was in jail, though, he would have asked Angelo to do it.”
Angelo is dead. “So you’re saying there’s no way to know, unless I point blank ask my father.”
Tommy puts a hand on my shoulder. “Olivia, stop thinking about this. It’s better if you just let it go, whether it’s true or not.”
I shake him off. “If you know something, Tommy, and you’re not telling me...”
He backs up a step, holding up his hand. “I don’t know nothing, I swear to you. But you gotta ask yourself, if it is true, what’s the point in knowing?”
Because it’s the truth. Because knowing the truth is important. But I just nod. “Maybe you’re right.” I still have to know. Tommy’s reaction doesn’t make me feel any better. There’s something I don’t understand. I have to find out more.
The Toil and Trouble Trilogy, Book One Page 7