by Linda Warren
“Yes, but not long. The children are out of school for the holiday and someone has to be with them.”
“Where do they go to school?” Jessie was curious.
Teresa looked out the window and pointed. “There is the church, the classrooms, the dormitory, the office and we’re in the sisters’ quarters. The children live here until they’re eighteen and then Mother Superior finds them a job so they can support themselves and live on their own. Some are adopted, some are not.”
“Are…are there babies here?” Why did she ask that? It only made her think and she immediately closed her mind. It was still too painful.
“Ah, babies go quickly. Every couple who comes here wants a bambino.”
Jessie sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her waist. Babies were something she couldn’t discuss. “Please tell me about my mother.”
Teresa lifted a dark eyebrow. “Is that why you came here?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just curious about her.”
Teresa pulled up a metal chair. “She was bellissima, like you.”
“I know. My dad had pictures of her.”
“Did he? That surprises me.”
“I didn’t see the photos until after his death.”
Teresa nodded. “That I understand.”
“What was she like?”
“Angela was the oldest, fun-loving and impulsive. She feared nothing but poverty. When our father died unexpectedly, she went to work to help support the family.”
“Stripping?”
Teresa’s eyes opened wide. “You know that?”
“Yes, but little else.”
Teresa seemed uncomfortable and shifted in the chair.
“It’s okay if…”
“No, no.” Teresa waved a hand. “Angela grew up fast in the strip clubs and I wanted to be like her, beautiful, seductive.”
“But it didn’t work out?”
“No, I got in with a bad crowd and did bad things…that’s why I’m here to find some peace so I can live with myself.”
“Did Angela find any peace?”
“Sadly, no. Mr. Murdock was older and she thought she could bend him to her will.”
“What do you mean?”
Teresa shrugged. “She thought she could get the money and the baby.”
“Oh.” That shocked Jessie. “So she never planned to give me up?”
“No. Angela used Mr. Murdock because he had money, but she learned the hard way that nobody uses Mr. Murdock.” Teresa took a heavy breath. “I’m not sure what kind of childhood you would have had with Angela. I loved her but she lived a rough life with many, many…you know. Our neighborhood was rough, too, and my brothers got into gangs. You were better off in Texas.”
“My father…was very controlling, but loved me more than anything on this earth. Maybe a little too much.” Jessie said that from the bottom of her heart, and she meant it. For a moment she hesitated in telling Teresa about her life, but the nuns had been so good to her that she had to speak the truth.
After she told Teresa the story of the guards and the protection, Teresa clicked her tongue. “How sad for you.”
“I never wanted for anything but my freedom.”
Teresa flung out her arms. “You’re free now. You come all the way to Rome.”
Jessie managed a half smile. “I think I was delirious with fever.”
Teresa touched Jessie’s hands. “Are you well enough to talk about why you came?”
Jessie shook her head. “Not yet.” She wasn’t strong enough to open up those feelings. She wasn’t strong enough to face what she’d done.
“I have to go help prepare the meal.” Teresa shoved the chair back against the wall and looked at Jessie. “Angela loved you and she never gave up hope that one day her little girl would be with her.”
“Thank you.”
After Teresa left, Jessie watched the children and marveled how they found pleasure in a simple thing like kicking a ball. She wondered if she’d ever feel pleasure again or would there always be this emptiness inside her?
In the afternoon she grew restless and ventured out into the long hallway. She came into a large room with sofas and chairs, a TV was in one corner and in the other was a large Christmas tree. She gasped. Oh, no! She ran from the room and opened a door. Suddenly, she was in the courtyard with the children. They stared at her with soulful dark eyes but they made no attempt to approach her.
She eased onto a stone bench and enjoyed the sun on her face. The temperature was chilly, though. She wrapped her arms around her waist. One of the nuns clapped her hands and the children immediately formed a line and marched inside.
Religious statues were here and there. Jesus on a cross was at the front of the courtyard and another was of a woman in a white flowing robe with her hands outstretched to three children at her feet. She’d read enough to know this was Mary, the mother of Jesus. The place had a somber but peaceful feel about it and she sat long into the evening.
The next day everyone seemed to be busy so Jessie explored on her own. There was a girls’ dormitory and a boys’, plus a babies’ room. She didn’t freak out. She just didn’t go in. Mother Superior was in the office, but since Jessie couldn’t speak Italian they couldn’t converse, or so she’d thought. The elderly nun spoke broken English and Jessie found out Teresa had given up her room for Jessie and was now sharing with Margaret. She tried to talk to Teresa, but she was busy getting ready for Christmas Eve mass. The children had a special program and Teresa was in charge.
As Jessie prepared for bed, she saw the children file into the church again. They were dressed differently. The girls wore long gray jumpers with white blouses while the boys still had the black pants and white shirts, but they had donned black bow ties. They looked so cute.
She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Slipping from the bed, she grabbed her clothes and put them on. She had no idea what she was doing or why she felt a need to go to the church, but that’s where her feet took her. Her hand shook as she reached for the large wood-carved door lever.
The church was in darkness except for the flickering candles that seemed to be everywhere. She made her way down the side aisle to the back row. Some of the children were to the right of the altar, holding hymnals. Teresa stood beside them in a long gray dress.
A bell rang loudly and everyone got to their feet. The children began to sing. She glanced to the aisle and saw four of the older children in white robes. One held a huge cross. A priest dressed in gold robes stood behind them with baby Jesus cradled in his arms. They all marched in. When they reached the altar, the priest knelt and placed the statue in the nativity display on the left. Everyone joined in prayer.
Then the priest stood, made the sign of the cross and everyone took their seats as the mass began. Jessie sat, mesmerized, the whiff of incense comforting her senses. Everything was in Italian and she didn’t understand the words but she felt them. The children sometimes sang responses and it was lovely. The people got to their feet to form a line to the front to receive communion. Jessie sat alone, unmoving, but she didn’t feel as lonely.
When the mass ended, the priest took his seat and the children moved in front of the altar with Teresa instructing them. She noticed that black lace covered Teresa’s head, and the girls’ were also covered. She hadn’t seen that earlier. All the women in the church had something on their heads and the nuns wore black veils.
An organ played and the children began to sing. Once again Jessie was mesmerized as the young innocent voices rang out with a message of faith, hope and love. She didn’t need to understand the words; the sound was universal and it moved her in a way she hadn’t expected. As the lovely notes filled her, her broken heart began to beat again and her closed mind opened. In the old, old church she admitted something to herself that she thought she never would.
I lost my child.
I lost Cadde’s child.
Cadde.
Tears clogged her throat and she want
ed to cry. She needed to cry. But she couldn’t.
CADDE SAT ON THE FRONT PORCH, with Mirry in his arms, waiting for Jessie. It was Christmas Eve. She’d come home tonight because they had to decorate the tree. A cool breeze reminded him that the weather was getting colder. At 2:00 a.m. he went inside.
In his mind he knew Jessie wasn’t coming home, but in his heart, he would never ever give up hope.
On Christmas Day he sat in the living room, staring at the tree. He talked to Aunt Etta, Chance and Kid and they begged him to come to High Five, but he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate anything.
Myra came for lunch with her parents and she gnawed on him, too.
“Cadde, the tree is dying. I’ll get Papa to take it out.”
“Don’t you dare.” His stern voice stopped her in the doorway.
“You have to snap out of it.” She walked back into the room. “Go upstairs, shower and shave.”
He looked at her. “How come you haven’t found Jessie?”
“The investigator is working on it, but it’s a big holiday and a lot of people are off, including the investigator.”
“Can’t you twist his arm? Aren’t you the fire and brimstone lawyer?”
She heaved a breath and he could see she wanted to say more than she did. “I got a court order to search airline records. We’ll probably know something tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
Cadde leaned his head back on the sofa. This Christmas was going to be different—special. It certainly was different, all because of him and the traits he’d inherited from his father. If he’d just told Jessie how he felt, they would be together. They’d be sad because of the baby, but they would have dealt with it as husband and wife. Now Jessie was gone and he felt responsible, inadequate and angry.
Kid arrived in the late afternoon with a piece of coconut pie in his hand.
“What are you doing here?”
“Aunt Etta sent your favorite pie.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
Kid placed the pie on the coffee table, sat on the sofa beside Cadde and propped his boots on the table.
Nothing was said for a few minutes.
“You do know that tree is almost dead?” Kid remarked. “You haven’t watered it.” Kid swung his feet to the floor. “I’ll throw it into the back of my truck and get rid of it.”
“Don’t touch it.”
“Come on, Cadde, you’re killing me here.” Kid flung out his arms. “Do something. Don’t just sit there and stare at that tree.”
“Go away, Kid.”
Kid got to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere until you shave that stubble off your face.”
“Go away, Kid.”
“With you it’s always the easy way or the hard way,” Kid told him. “You can either go upstairs on your own or we can fight all the way. Your choice.”
“Okay. Okay. Anything to get you out of my hair.” He lifted Mirry and went upstairs. Ten minutes later he came down in jeans and a T-shirt, cleanly shaven. Kid had his feet propped on the coffee table, eating Cadde’s pie.
For a brief moment, a note of laughter pierced his numb heart. Kid was Kid, and his brother always had a way of making him laugh. The moment didn’t last long.
“Thanks for the pie.”
“Uh…” Kid swallowed a mouthful. “You said you didn’t want it.”
“I don’t.” Cadde resumed his seat. “Didn’t you eat at High Five?”
“Yeah, but I’m not letting Aunt Etta’s pie go to waste.”
Cadde just shook his head.
“Let’s watch a movie,” Kid suggested. “You got any movies around here?”
“Yes, but I’m not in the mood, and don’t try the easy or hard way again. It won’t work.”
Kid swung to his feet. “You’re as stubborn as…”
“Dad,” Cadde finished for him.
“You’re nothing like Dad.”
“Oh, but I am. I’m just like him.”
“You resemble him, but you’re bigger, taller and have morals. Not once did you cheat on Jessie during that sham of a marriage. Believe me, I know, because I had to put up with your grouchiness. Dad probably cheated on Mom from the get-go. So you’re not good with the flowery words, but you show your emotions through actions. Jessie’s going to realize that sooner or later.
Right now she can’t see beyond the pain of losing the baby.”
Cadde rubbed his hands together. “I lost a baby and…a wife.”
There was nothing but silence.
“Okay, wallow in whatever misery you have to,” Kid finally said. “Just call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Kid stopped at the door. “Chance and I are flying to Louisiana in the morning. We’re drilling deep like you wanted, but there are times I think we’re going to hit China before the desired depth. Why don’t you come with us and see the action?”
“I have to stay here,” he murmured. “You and Chance can handle things.”
After Kid left, he went outside to feed Jessie’s animals. That was the only thing that brought him comfort. Winky was becoming a pest, braying and nudging him for more food. He couldn’t seem to fill the donkey up, but he wanted them healthy for when Jessie returned.
And she would.
Eventually.
THE NEXT MORNING JESSIE went to mass again with the children and loved listening to them sing. Afterward they all gathered in the big room around the tree. She could now look at it without feeling that crippling pain. It was there, though, and she fought that sickening sensation.
The nuns passed out paper bags filled with candy and an apple and an orange. “I dolci,” the children shouted, excited as if they’d received a bicycle or something equally expensive. Everything here was simple and down-to-earth and revolved around faith.
Later they gathered in the dining room for the noon meal. There was ham, ravioli, pasta, sauces, vegetables and panettone bread that was heavenly, plus milk or water to drink.
She finally had a chance to talk to Teresa about the room and Teresa said the nuns doubled up when they had guests. But Jessie decided she shouldn’t be a guest and she shouldn’t be a burden on the nuns. So she volunteered for work.
She swept and scrubbed the floors, helped in the kitchen and with the laundry. It was a bit of a shock to find there were no washing machines or dryers. The clothes were washed by hand on a board, hung out to dry and then ironed. Jessie had never ironed anything in her life but she learned. Sister Alice and two of the older girls did the laundry and they were glad of an extra pair of hands. They laughed at her a lot. Laughter was universal, just like music.
At night she was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep, but before she slipped into oblivion, she’d see Cadde’s face. She held it in her heart and in her mind, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ROSA WAS FUSSING AT CADDE for not eating when the doorbell rang. He leaped off the sofa and yanked opened the door, hoping with everything in him that it was Jessie. Hooter Caldwell stood outside. Cadde’s heart sank.
“Mornin’, Cadde.” Hoot had his hat in his hand, chomping on a cigar, which reminded him so much of Roscoe.
“Hooter.” What was he doing here?
“Could I talk to you a minute?”
It had to be about Shilah and Cadde’s absence from the office. He wanted to slam the door in his face, but as a business courtesy he thought he’d hear the man out and then slam the door in his face.
“Sure.” Cadde led the way into the living room.
Hooter stared at the tree and the decorations on the floor. “Man, Christmas is over with.”
Cadde sat on the sofa. “What do you want?”
Hoot’s eyes were on Mirry lying beside Cadde. “What the hell happened to that dog?”
“What do you want, Hooter?” He felt he didn’t need to explain anything.
“Is Jessie here?”
Cadde looked at the man. “No. Why
?”
“From the tree and decorations I’d say she hasn’t been here in a while.”
“No. What about it?”
“Well, now—” Hoot eased into a chair and placed his hat in his lap with extra care “—I did something and it’s been on my conscience.”
“You don’t have a conscience.”
“When it comes to Jessie, I do.”
Jessie. What did he know about his wife? The man was fixated on her. He knew that from the board meetings.
“What did you do?” Cadde thought he’d better get to the heart of Hooter’s visit.
“Stay calm, okay?”
“What did you do?” Cadde asked with as much calm as he could muster.
“Jessie called me about four days after that man attacked her and she lost the baby.”
Cadde curled his hands into fists. “What did she want?”
“Money and information.”
“What?”
“You said you’d stay calm.”
“Tell me what the hell you did.”
“She wanted information on Angela’s sisters and I paid the computer kid at Shilah for everything he had on Jessie’s mother and her family. Jessie then wanted a plane ticket to the village outside Rome where they lived.”
Cadde was on his feet, his calm forgotten. “You let her go to Rome all by herself? In her state of mind?”
“Jessie’s pretty stubborn and I could see she was all messed up in her head. I begged her to call you, but she wouldn’t.”
“So you just let her go to Rome.” Anger coiled through him, but something registered in his mind—something about the way Hooter had said Angela.
“Did you know Angela?”
“Hell, yeah. I was with Roscoe when he met her. I told him she was too young and that she’d take him for every dime he had, but he wouldn’t listen. He was besotted.” Hoot fingered his hat. “I thought Shilah would go under for sure, but I underestimated ol’ Roscoe. He kept his money and the baby.”
“Did either of you ever think about Jessie or her life?”
“That was Roscoe’s business, not mine.”
Cadde ran his hands through his hair. “Just get out.”
Hooter stood with his hat in one hand. With the other he pulled a slip of paper from his left pocket. “Here’s the address. Knocked me for a loop to find out Angela’s sister is a nun and her other sister is at this orphanage, too.”