Cast Me Gently (20 page)

“We won’t stay long,” Teresa said.

The aunts were gathered around the bed, patting Francesca’s hand, straightening and tucking in her sheets, plumping her pillow, all talking at the same time. Francesca looked up at Teresa.

“You okay?” Teresa mouthed since she would have had to shout to be heard.

Francesca nodded with a tired smile.

“What’s her name?” Anita asked over the tumult and the others quieted.

“Annalisa Maria,” said Francesca.

Four pair of eyes instantly teared up.

“You named her after Mama,” said Luisa, dabbing at her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.

Francesca nodded. The aunts gathered closer to the bed, wringing Francesca’s hand and kissing her, but Anita shuffled over to Teresa. She took Teresa’s hand in her own.

“I remember like it was yesterday, when it was you in the nursery we came to see,” she said.

Teresa smiled. “I was the one in the extra large crib?”

Anita clucked her tongue. “You were a beautiful baby. Not all wrinkly and shriveled like some of them are.” A shadow passed over her face.

“Do you need to sit and rest?” Teresa asked.

“Just for a minute.” Anita lowered herself with a sigh into the armchair near the wall. She looked up at Teresa. “Do you ever wish it was you?”

Teresa blinked. “What, having a baby?”

Anita nodded.

“No! Not at all,” Teresa said. She looked at her aunt. “What about you, Nita? Do you ever wish you’d gotten married, had a family?”

To Teresa’s astonishment, Anita’s eyes filled with sudden tears, but she brushed her hand quickly over her face. “Don’t be ridiculous!” She heaved herself back to her feet and returned to Francesca’s bedside.

Teresa frowned at the abrupt change in her aunt’s demeanor. She let the aunts hover and fuss a few more minutes, but when her sister gave her a pleading look, she said, “I think we need to let Francesca rest now. We can come back tomorrow.”

With more hugs and kisses from all of the aunts, it still took several minutes for Teresa to get everyone out of the room and headed back toward the elevator. She tried to catch Anita’s eye again, but Anita charged to the front of the group as they left the hospital and got into the back seat of the Cadillac for the trip home.

CHAPTER 20

Teresa was kneeling on
the floor, shelving a shipment of antibiotics when she heard the bell announce someone coming into the store. The low murmur of voices travelled back to her for a few minutes, and then Sylvia called in an unnaturally loud voice, “I’m going to run home and see about dinner.” Teresa looked at her watch.

“Ma, it’s only three o’clock,” she said. She got to her feet and froze.

Bernie was seated at the coffee counter and Sylvia was already closing the back door.

Teresa turned back to the pharmacy, breaking down the box the antibiotics had come in as she stalled. If she had thought her mother’s silence about her nights away from home meant that Sylvia had decided to let her live her own life,
boy, was I wrong.

Teresa and Bernie had had their share of petty arguments growing up, and always, it had been Teresa who initiated making up.

“But not this time,” Teresa had insisted to herself again and again since she’d stormed out of the D’Armelio house nearly two months ago. She and Bernie had never gone this long without talking—
hell, we’d hardly gone two days without talking.
Guilt had pricked at her, prompting her again and again to pick the phone up or go over, but Teresa had stubbornly refused. Bernie hadn’t just insulted her. That, she could have dealt with, as she had done her whole life, but when Bernie had derided Teresa’s relationship, she’d also insulted Ellie; at least that was how it felt to Teresa.
Funny, how much easier it was to stay angry when I was angry for Ellie.

At last, she pushed the flattened box into the trash can and came out from behind the pharmacy counter, pulling the door shut behind her.

“School going okay?” she asked lamely as she stepped behind the coffee counter.

“Yeah,” said Bernie, who was playing with a stack of sugar packets.

“Cappuccino?”

“Sure.”

Teresa busied herself for several minutes, making two cappuccinos. In the mirror behind the espresso machine, she could feel Bernie’s gaze locked on her as she moved about. She refused to look up, but when she could no longer avoid it, she turned to face Bernie, setting a steaming mug in front of her as she cradled the second in her hands.

“So, you and my mother are in cahoots now?” She met Bernie’s eyes for the first time.

“She’s worried about you.”

Teresa took a sip of her cappuccino and didn’t say anything. Bernie took a drink as well. The silence between them stretched on uncomfortably.

Don’t say a word,
said Teresa to herself.

Bernie seemed unaccustomed to this strangely stubborn Teresa. She squirmed on her stool and finally said, “I’m sorry. About the things I said.”

Teresa nodded but still said nothing.

Bernie frowned. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Apology accepted,” Teresa said coolly.

Bernie set her cup down and leaned her elbows on the counter. “C’mon, Bennie. I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just didn’t know what to think, you know? I mean…” Her voice trailed off.

Teresa’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t say anything to my mother did you?”

“Jesus, no!” Bernie’s eyes got big. “What kind of friend do you think I am?” Apparently, the expression on Teresa’s face said exactly what kind of friend she thought Bernie was, because Bernie burst out, “Holy shit, Bennie. Give me some credit. I mean, okay, the whole idea kind of shook me for a while, but I’ve had some time to think about it. You’re my oldest friend. Nothing comes between that. Right?”

Teresa bit her lip. “Right.”

Bernie sagged with relief, a puzzled look on her face. “So, are you two really…?”

Teresa frowned. “I am not going to talk about that.”

Bernie blinked. “Okay.”

Another long, uncomfortable silence crackled in the air between them as they negotiated the new boundaries of their friendship, carefully testing to see what was safe and what was not.

“How was your New Year?” Teresa asked at last, searching for some new topic of conversation.

“It was kind of quiet,” Bernie said with a shrug. “Tom was at a company thing with his wife, and—”

Teresa heard the unspoken, “—and you and I weren’t speaking,” but she remembered where she’d been on New Year’s Eve and felt the color rise in her cheeks.

Bernie’s gaze searched her face curiously, and Teresa turned away suddenly, busying herself cleaning the espresso machine.

“You want to go shopping this weekend?” Bernie asked.

Teresa’s heart sank. She really, really wanted to see Ellie this weekend, but she didn’t want to hurt Bernie’s feelings just as they were finally talking again.

Bernie seemed to sense Teresa’s hesitation. “You could call Ellie and see if she wants to come with us.”

“You would be okay with that?” Teresa asked, her back still to Bernie as she continued cleaning.

“Sure. As long as the little piss-ant doesn’t jump on me again about being a racist,” Bernie said.

Teresa grinned. “I think we can swing that.” She turned back around.

“Okay. You call her,” Bernie said. She looked at Teresa. “We’re good?”

Teresa nodded. “We’re good.”

“I’m going to get more coffee,” Ellie said to Linda and Suzanne. “Can I get y’uns anything?”

Suzanne tipped her cup and saw that it was empty. “Sure, I’ll take some. Cream—”

“—no sugar,” Ellie finished for her. “I know.” She took Suzanne’s cup with her back to the staff room where a half pot of coffee sat in the coffee maker. She refilled their cups of coffee. With a shake of her head, she dampened a paper towel and wiped down the counter, which was littered with granules of sugar and creamer, along with empty sugar packets and plastic stirrers. “Do they do this at home?” she muttered aloud.

“Probably.”

Ellie jumped and turned to find Aaron Myers standing there. He pushed the door shut behind him.

“How about making a fresh pot?” He pulled a chair out from the table and sat.

Silently, Ellie refilled the coffee basket with fresh coffee grounds and went to the sink for water, feeling Myers’s eyes on her the whole time. She got a fresh pot brewing and reached for her cup and Suzanne’s.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she said.

“Why don’t you wait and have some fresh?” he said, crossing his legs so that his foot blocked her path to the door.

“I should get back to my window,” Ellie said, but realized, with two cups in her hands and the door now closed, she couldn’t open it without setting one cup down on the table. Forcing herself to smile, she said, “Could you open the door, please?”

For a moment, she wondered if he would, but at last he stood and reached for the doorknob, forcing Ellie to brush up against him as she squeezed through the narrow opening he left for her.

Linda looked up as Ellie came back out to the tellers’ windows. She took a second look at Ellie’s face. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Ellie said with a dark glance in Aaron Myers’s direction as he sauntered out of the staff room to go back upstairs to the loan offices. She noticed he didn’t have a coffee cup in his hand.

It was late morning when Ellie heard, “Good morning, Teresa.” She dropped a handful of change with a loud clatter as she looked up to see Teresa standing at Linda’s window. She scrambled to scoop up the dropped coins and turned back to her customer, but she could feel the heat in her face. She stole a glance in Teresa’s direction as her customer left, and Teresa pointed to her watch. Ellie gave a small nod and waited impatiently for the clock to crawl toward noon.

“Going out again?” Suzanne asked as Ellie locked her drawer at the first chime and headed for the staff room.

“Want some fresh air at lunch,” she said, hurrying back to the lockers to grab her coat and backpack.

The March sunlight was weak but felt good on her face as she walked quickly to Falkowski’s, where Teresa already had a table in a back corner.

“Hi,” Ellie said breathlessly. She hung her coat on the back of her chair and sat.

“Hi.”

The light in Teresa’s eyes made Ellie’s insides tingle.

“I already ordered so you have time to eat and get back,” Teresa said.

“Thanks.” Ellie’s hand itched to hold Teresa’s, but she busied herself spreading her napkin on her lap.

“I’m glad you could get away today,” Teresa was saying. “You’re sure it wasn’t a problem?”

“Not a problem.” Ellie opened her mouth to say something more just as the waitress brought their soup and sandwiches. She waited until the waitress left before leaning nearer and saying in a low voice, “I wasn’t sure I could wait until tonight to see you.” She chuckled at the color that rose in Teresa’s cheeks, and picked up her sandwich.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Ellie keeping an eye on her watch.

“I have a favor to ask you.” Teresa glanced up from her lunch. “Two favors, actually.”

Ellie sat up, Teresa’s tone making her wary. “Yes?”

“Well, Bernie came by and we talked, kind of.” Teresa paused, stirring her soup. “She’d like to go out, with us.”

There was a loud clang as Ellie’s spoon dropped into her bowl.

“What?” Ellie coughed a little as she choked. “With both of us? She said that?”

“Yes.” Teresa smiled. “She knows I won’t talk about, you know, us. But she wanted to go shopping and asked me to invite you. So will you? Go with us?”

Ellie met Teresa’s gaze, but didn’t answer immediately.

Teresa leaned closer and said in a low voice, “I know it’s going to be hard, every time we take one of these steps, to do things with Bernie or my family, but it’s a start.”

Ellie took a drink of her water. “Okay. I like Bernie. I’ll go. What’s the other favor?”

Teresa stalled, chewing and swallowing before she said, “Annalisa’s baptism is a week from Sunday. I’d like you to come. Francesca asked me to invite you especially. And Karen will need someone to sit with.”

Ellie’s head snapped up. “Really? They’re coming?”

Teresa nodded, smiling. “I talked to Francesca and Chris. I told them I would only be godmother if they asked Robbie to be godfather.”

“What did your parents say?”

“Well, I think Ma was relieved. Pop just grunted and walked away, but this allows everyone to get over themselves and come together without anyone having to apologize. It’s not perfect, but I hope it works.”

“I think it’s brilliant,” Ellie said. “If your father is anything like your brother, then the two of them would never have swallowed their pride. This way, they’re doing it for Francesca and the baby.” She frowned. “What about your priest? I thought the Church would only let practicing Catholics be godparents.”

“Our priest has known Robbie for years,” Teresa said. “I know he’s bending the rules a bit, but he said as long as I was the godmother, he’d allow it. Karen won’t be allowed to receive Communion, and they’ll never recognize Rob and Karen’s marriage, but this is the best I could do.”

She looked questioningly at Ellie. “So, will you come? Please?”

Ellie met Teresa’s eyes as she fought with herself. Teresa reached under the table to squeeze her knee.

“I know you said you’d never go back to church, but it won’t be like it was before,” Teresa said. “For me?”

Ellie took Teresa’s hand under cover of the tablecloth. “For you.”

“Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, we ask that You accept the soul of our dearly departed sister, Ellen Ryan, into the light of Your presence. We cannot know the depths of Your mercy, but we beg You to forgive her sins, and all the sins of all the souls in Purgatory. Lord, those who die still live in Your presence. We pray that one day, we will be united again to sing Your praise, forever and ever. Amen.”

The social worker’s arm settled around Ellie’s shoulders, but Ellie shrugged it off and moved away. It was meant to be a comforting gesture. She knew that, but she didn’t care. In the trunk of the social worker’s car were two suitcases and a backpack—all of the things Ellie could take from the house. From the cemetery, she would be driven to her new foster family. Earlier that morning, she had toured her home for the last time, still filled with furniture that would be auctioned off in a few weeks to go toward the medical bills, followed by the sale of the house. She’d had to leave all of her mother’s clothes, their books and dishes, most of Daniel’s varsity letters and trophies, his guitar. She’d gone through the house, plucking things here and there—her mother’s few pieces of jewelry, the family photo album, the calligraphy she’d made for her mother, a few of Daniel’s favorite albums. Those things had gone into one suitcase, her clothes into the other.