Blue (20 page)

“You said you'd kill me if I ran away, so I stayed,” he said, teasing her. And then he showed her his diploma. He had found it in the mail while she was sleeping that morning. She promised to frame it and hang it on the wall in his room, along with his autographed Yankees memorabilia.

She had sent Becky a text the night before, and hadn't heard from her, so she called her after lunch. They hadn't spoken to each other or communicated at all, in more than two months. Their last conversation, if you could call it that and not a fight, had left a bad impression on both of them. Neither was anxious to talk to the other. Becky thought she had gone off the deep end again, as she seemed to do all the time now, with one crazy thing after another, and Ginny thought she had a heart of stone and her head on backward, if she was willing to protect sexually abusive priests out of respect for the Catholic Church, with total indifference to the children who'd gotten hurt, like Blue. But Ginny wanted news of their father and had had none since June. She assumed nothing had changed.

Becky sounded surprised to hear from her when she answered.

“You're back?”

“Yes. Still alive. How's Dad?” Blue listened with quiet interest as he sat at his computer. Lizzie had told him in texts that her grandfather seemed about the same.

“Fading away slowly. He just wakes up a few times a day now and goes back to sleep,” Becky answered. “He doesn't recognize any of us anymore.” Ginny's heart went out to her—she knew it must be hard to watch day to day. It made her less angry at her sister, for her diatribe about their case against the priest.

“And how are you?” Ginny asked her, sounding gentler.

“I'm okay. What about you? Ready to give up your witch-hunt?” Becky was hoping that her mission in Syria had swayed her from her outrageous plan to help Blue bring a lawsuit against the archdiocese, and criminal charges against a priest. Becky still got upset about it every time it came to mind, and Ginny's heart sank as she said it. She was still Becky, with all the same limitations and prejudices and narrow point of view. It was disappointing to hear.

“It's not a witch-hunt,” Ginny said coolly. “It's real. Real kids have gotten hurt by those priests, who committed real crimes. Think how you'd feel if it was Charlie.” Becky ignored what her sister said.

“For heaven's sake, Ginny. Give it up,” she said in exasperation. And Alan didn't approve of the plan, either. They had discussed it at length and were both shocked at what Ginny was going to do. He was even more incensed than Becky. He thought the case was sinful, and would bring disgrace on them all. He was just praying that no one he knew would find out. And they had told their kids how wrong it was, too. Lizzie had reported her parents' position to Blue, and told him she didn't agree and thought he was really brave. He thanked her and was pleased, and she didn't ask him any questions about it. She was a polite girl and liked him a lot and didn't want him to feel awkward with her, now that they were friends.

The conversation with Becky was strained, as there had been no mellowing of their positions, on either side. Ginny got off the phone as quickly as she could. She had wanted information about her father, Becky had given it to her, and there was nothing else to say. Ginny tried to put it out of her mind, and half an hour later she and Blue left for the concert in Central Park.

It felt strange to Ginny at first, listening to Mozart in the peaceful setting, surrounded by happy, healthy-looking people, after two months in the rigors of Syria. Being back still felt unreal to her, but she and Blue loved the concert.

And Andrew called her when they got home. He had heard from the archdiocese that afternoon and the timing was perfect, since she was in New York.

“They want to see us,” he said, sounding pleased. “We have a meeting next week with the monsignor in charge of these cases, at the archdiocese. He's a stubborn old guy, also a Jesuit. I worked with him for two years in Rome. He'll be tough. But he's also smart. Eventually he'll cave. They don't have a case,” Andrew told her. “I spoke to Jane today. More and more victims are coming forward—some of them are men now. The oldest one I saw on the list is thirty-seven. He was fourteen when Father Teddy molested him, fresh out of the seminary, in Washington, D.C. None of this looks good for him. He's obviously had a problem for years, and they know it. It makes Blue's case even stronger.”

“What about Blue's friend Jimmy Ewald?” she asked him, satisfied with what he said.

“The police investigator talked to him. He denied everything. He says Father Teddy is the greatest guy he ever met. I don't believe him, but I think he's too scared to tell the truth. Father Teddy must have threatened him, too.” As things stood now, even before the end of the investigation, the evidence was building, and Andrew said that fifteen more boys had come forward, with stories almost identical to Blue's, about sexual abuses committed on them by the charismatic priest. The monsignor wanted to meet with her and Andrew, but not Blue. It was going to be a very interesting meeting, and Andrew reassured her that it would go well. She was worried that all the archdiocese's energy would go into defending Father Teddy, and the church, instead of making up to Blue for what had been done to him. Andrew had warned her that they still might do all they could to debunk and undermine Blue, and probably would at the first meeting.

“Don't worry, we'll get there,” Andrew said, “even if they play hardball in the beginning. They don't scare me. Don't forget, I used to be one of them. It's a distinct advantage, and I know a lot of the players, particularly the ones with any power. I know this monsignor very well. He's a hard man, but he's honest and fair.” Listening to him made her curious again about his history, and why he had left the church, but she would never ask, just as he wouldn't ask what terrible crimes she was atoning for with the life she led in refugee camps around the world.

They agreed to meet half an hour before the meeting at the archdiocese on Monday, at a coffee shop nearby. She told Blue about it when she hung up.

“Is that good or bad?” he asked, looking worried about the meeting.

“Just standard procedure,” she said calmly. “The monsignor wants to meet us to talk about it. You don't have to go. Just me and Andrew.” He looked relieved at that, and they went to a movie that night, and to Coney Island the next day, so Blue could ride the Cyclone, which he said was less good than the roller coaster at Magic Mountain, and he texted Lizzie about it. Then he and Ginny lay on the beach for a while. They were happy together, and Ginny was thrilled to be home.

They were on their way back to the city, when Becky called Ginny on her cell phone. She could hear the sorrow in her sister's voice when she answered and knew immediately what had happened before Becky said a word.

“Dad?” was all Ginny said, and Becky confirmed it.

“Yes. About an hour ago. I checked on him after lunch, and he was sleeping peacefully. And when I went back half an hour later, he was gone. I never got to say goodbye.” She started to cry then, and so did Ginny.

“You've been saying goodbye to him every day for over two years, with everything you did for him, the way you took care of him, letting him live in your home. He was ready to go. It wasn't a good life for him anymore. This is better for him,” Ginny said quietly.

“I know. It's just sad. I'll miss him. It was nice being able to do things for him. He was always so good to us,” Becky said, crying. He had been a wonderful father, all their lives. They'd been blessed to have him, and their mother had been a kind, loving woman, too. They'd had good parents, unlike Blue, who had no one after his mother died. Stories like his always made Ginny want to give back to others less fortunate.

“He's with Mom now,” Ginny said peacefully through her tears. “He'd rather be with her.” They both knew it was true—they'd had a love affair for their entire marriage.

“When are you coming out?” Becky asked her.

“I don't know. Let me figure it out when I get home. I guess tomorrow. Do you know when you want to do the funeral?” Ginny asked her. The recent friction between them had been instantly set aside, faced with their shared grief. This was more important and drew them together. In spite of the battle they'd had recently, both of them put their weapons down. For now at least, there was a truce.

“In a few days, I guess. I haven't called the funeral home yet. They just took him away.” It had been painful watching him leave the house on a gurney, wrapped in a blanket that covered his face. She'd been relieved that all the kids were out. She hadn't told them yet. She'd wanted to tell Ginny first, although she'd called Alan immediately at his office and he was on his way home to be with her. They'd been expecting it for months, but it was still sad when it happened. And it made Ginny feel even more adult, thinking that both her parents were gone now. And all she had left was her sister and her family, and now Blue. She no longer had parents or a family of her own.

“I'll let you know our flight when I book it,” Ginny said softly. “I'll text you,” she promised. Ginny went online as soon as they got back to the apartment, and she booked two seats for her and Blue on the first morning flight the next day.

And then she called Andrew O'Connor and told him that she couldn't make the meeting at the archdiocese because her father had just died in L.A., and she wouldn't be back in time.

“I'm so sorry. Of course I'll rearrange it. When do you think you'll come back?” He sounded sympathetic and practical, and he could hear how sad she was.

“Maybe in four or five days, a week at most,” she answered. After the arrangements and the funeral, she and Becky would have to dispose of their father's things, although he didn't have much left. They had sold his house when he moved in with Becky.

“Was this very sudden?” Andrew sounded kind and compassionate, and listening to him, she could suddenly imagine him as a priest. He had a gentle way about him, cared about people, and listened well.

“No, he'd been sick for a long time. He's been fading away. I went to see him before I left for Syria—I had a sense it would be the last time. This is better for him, but it's strange for us. He had Alzheimer's, and he had no quality of life anymore.”

“Don't worry about the meeting. We have time. I think they just want to feel us out and see how serious we are.”

“Very,” she said in a firm voice, and he laughed. She was sad about her father but still able to focus on Blue's case.

“So am I,” he assured her. “It's the ultimate abuse of trust, of the worst kind. I hope Blue will make a full recovery from it, but he may not. It could impact him forever. He deserves serious compensation for that.” And Andrew intended to get it for him.

“I believe he can recover from it,” Ginny said thoughtfully, and she was determined to make that happen, with the other good things happening in his life. “I want him to. I don't want that bastard stealing his life, or his future. Blue has every right to put this behind him. I want to do everything I can to help him do that.” The strength in her voice took Andrew by surprise. She was an iron woman at times.

“We all have our demons,” he said quietly. “Some are just worse than others.” And as he said it, she suspected he had his own. He had left the priesthood, after all.

“He's too young to have that on his back for the rest of time. That's not fair.” She was anxious to do all she could to help Blue recover fully from what had happened.

“That's exactly why these cases are so important. Because they're not fair.” Andrew agreed with her on that. “Maybe what you're doing for Blue will show him how much he matters to you. It's very touching that you believe in him as much as you do. That's a tremendous gift to give anyone.” Blue's own aunt hadn't believed him, but Blue knew Ginny did. That had touched the ex-Jesuit lawyer, and impressed him about her.

“I want him to come out of this unscathed.”

Andrew thought it was a loving wish, but not very realistic. He had seen too many adult clients unable to lead normal lives after the abuses committed on them as children. Sometimes love wasn't enough to heal them, and the money they won in settlements was consolation but it never gave them back the innocence, trust, and balance they had lost. A number of his adult clients who'd been abused as children had been unable to have normal relationships. All he could do was hope that Blue wouldn't be one of them, no matter how committed Ginny was.

“We'll do our best,” Andrew promised her, moved by her strength and dedication to the boy. “I'll let you know about the appointment. I'll send you an e-mail when you get to L.A.”

“Thanks so much.” She hung up, thinking about the lawyer for a moment. There was something very warm about him, yet slightly removed as well, as though he were protecting wounds of his own. It was an odd combination, and she wondered if it was because he'd been a priest. She was still intrigued by why he'd left the church, and fantasized that he'd fallen in love with a nun. People who left the church always seemed mysterious to her.

Ginny sent Becky a text message with their arrival time the next day, and then went to help Blue pack.

“We'll have to get you a suit when we get to L.A. We don't have time now.” He had no grown-up clothes to wear to her father's funeral. Shopping for a suit for him would give them both something more to do than sitting around the funeral home.

They had a quiet dinner, and Blue went to bed early. Ginny sat alone that night, thinking about her father. It had been a turbulent homecoming, with her father dying, but at least she was back in the States. It was an odd, poignant feeling knowing that he was gone. She was more than ever grateful for Blue, who filled the empty spaces in her life. And now there was one more.