“I have some nice melon,” Connie said. “I bought it yesterday. How about a slice?”
“Sure,” Val replied. She glanced at her father to see if he had resumed reading the paper, but he hadn’t.
“I made a few phone calls last night,” he said.
“Oh?” Val said.
“Figured I might as well, let people know I’m back a little early,” Rick declared. “Good thing too. Jamey tells me the shopping center in Hackensack’s run into some labor problems. I’ll have to go over there, talk things out with the boys.”
“I hope it isn’t anything serious,” Val said.
“It won’t be,” Rick replied. “Not after a little friendly conversation.”
Val nodded. “Did Jamey have anything else to say?” she managed to ask.
“He was in a funny mood,” Rick said. “Distracted like. I don’t think he would have brought Amanda up if I hadn’t. He talked a little bit about Kit, how proud he was of her and how concerned. He usually doesn’t do that, talk about his kids. I brag about you all the time, but Jamey keeps that stuff to himself. He said Kevin’s doing real well at Notre Dame, but that’s no surprise. That boy has a real head on his shoulders. I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes a lawyer. Like father, like son.”
“I think Kit wants to be a lawyer,” Val said. The Farrells suddenly seemed like a nice, safe topic.
“Daughters are different,” Rick said. “You want different things for them. Homes, families. They don’t have to have careers like men do.”
“So you don’t expect me to take over your business one day?” Val asked.
Rick laughed. “I expect you to marry a smart Italian boy, and he’ll take over the business,” he replied. “Kevin Farrell can be his lawyer, just like Jamey’s mine. And you’ll give me lots of healthy grandchildren.”
“What does Kit do?” Val asked.
“That’s her lookout, not ours,” Rick said. “She’ll probably drink like her mother.”
“Daddy!” Val cried. “How can you say that?”
“Sorry, honey,” Rick said. “I’ve seen a little more of the world than you. I shouldn’t be so cynical first thing in the morning.”
Connie brought in Val’s breakfast. “I made the eggs just the way you like them,” she said, although she always made Val’s eggs just the way she liked them. Connie did everything exactly the way she was told, including keeping secrets. She and Bruno certainly knew where their security came from.
“Thanks, Connie,” Val said. She took a bite of the eggs and convinced herself she’d be able to finish them.
Connie poured Rick another cup of coffee, then left. Rick sighed contentedly.
“There’s no place like home,” he said. “I miss it when I’m away from here.”
“I missed you,” Val said, because she knew he expected her to.
“Likewise,” Rick said. “I also called Terry last night. Had kind of a strange talk with her too.”
“What was strange about it?” Val asked. She bit into the toast as a form of protection.
“She was in a mood too,” Rick said. “I said to her maybe we’d come over tonight, make up for that dinner we both missed on Sunday, and she gave me a real song and dance why we shouldn’t. This kid’s busy doing this, and that kid’s busy doing that, and the house is a mess, and she doesn’t have anything decent to feed us. It didn’t make sense to me. She’d have all day to straighten up and buy something and rearrange the kids’ plans. Besides, we’re family. She shouldn’t feel she has to make a big fuss over us.”
“It was short notice, Daddy,” Val said. “Maybe we could get together over the weekend.”
“That’s something else,” Rick said. “Jamey mentioned maybe we’d get together for brunch on Sunday. Him and Kit and you and me. What do you think?”
“That sounds nice,” Val replied.
“I guess that means we go sailing on Saturday,” Rick said. “The days are getting too short to go after brunch. Especially if Jamey starts talking. We’ll never get out of there.”
“Sailing Saturday, brunch Sunday,” Val said. “It sounds like a nice weekend.”
“I agree,” Rick said. “And I’m glad you think so, because I’m going to have to work late today. Catch up with everything I missed being in Washington. And that trip to Hackensack’s going to take a while. Can you mange without me this evening?”
Val relaxed instantly. “I’ll manage,” she said.
“Want to go to Kit’s after school?” Rick asked. “I can tell Jamey to take you girls out to supper someplace nice.”
“No, that’s all right,” Val said. She finished her eggs and checked the time. “I’d better get going,” she declared. “I don’t want to be late.”
“One more thing,” Rick said. “I had a little talk with Bruno last night, about your walking home from Kit’s alone.”
“Daddy,” Val said. “It was nothing.”
“Bruno should know better than to let you do that,” Rick declared. “He gets paid to keep an eye out on this family, and that includes seeing to it you aren’t alone.”
“It’s my fault,” Val said. “I should have called him, and I just didn’t want to. Kit walks home by herself all the time.”
“Kit isn’t a Castaladi,” Rick said.
Neither am I, Val wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” she said instead, getting up. “It seemed like such a little thing.”
“It’s the little things that are dangerous,” Rick said.
Val shook her head. “Is Bruno going to stay by my side forever?” she asked. “Is he going to go to college with me?”
“If you go to college, you’ll go to one nearby,” her father declared. “Seton Hall, maybe. You think I’m going to send you off to California somewhere, you’ll live in a dorm and run around with nobody looking out for you?”
Val had given college no thought whatsoever until that moment. “Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Then you thought wrong,” Rick said. “You’ll go to a good Catholic school Bruno can drive you to, and we’ll find you a nice boy, and you’ll get married. You and Michelle can go together, if that makes you feel better.”
“What if I want to go to school in California?” Val asked. “What if I don’t want to get married? What if Michelle doesn’t want to go to school with me?”
“Don’t worry about Michelle,” Rick said. “She’ll want what we tell her to want.”
“Fine,” Val said. “But that doesn’t help with my problems.”
“You’ll want what I tell you to want too,” Rick said. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, honey, but I hope you shake this mood off soon. You’ve always been such a good girl, just like your mama that way, and now you’re talking back to me and doing things you know you shouldn’t. You got me worried.”
“It’s nothing, Daddy,” Val said. She was shaking with anger and fear. “I’d better go.”
“Bruno’s in the kitchen, waiting for you,” Rick said. “Have a nice day at school. I should be home before ten.”
“All right,” Val said. She walked over to her father, and kissed him, because not to would have caused another scene. She went to the hall closet, got her jacket and her books, then walked to the kitchen. Bruno and Connie were finishing their breakfasts, but when Bruno saw Val, he pushed his mug of coffee aside, got up and opened the garage door for her.
Val followed him to the car, climbed into the back seat, and stared out the window as Bruno drove to school. She waited for him to give her a lecture, but he kept his mouth shut. She was grateful for the silence.
Michelle was waiting for her when the car arrived. “I know Rick’s back,” she said. “He called Mama last night. She was hysterical all night after that.”
“She shouldn’t have been,” Val said. “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything.”
“If anything happens to any of us, then it’s your fault,” Michelle said. “Just remember that, Val.”
“I’ll remember,” Val said. She walked away from Michelle, toward Kit, who was standing by the school’s front door.
“Did you talk to him?” Kit asked. “I mean Rick.”
“Why?” Val said. “Did Jamey say something to you?”
“Not about you,” Kit said. “He talked about us instead. He asked if I wanted to go into the city with him Saturday. He said someone was doing Juno and the Paycock and it was about time we paid attention to my Irish roots. Then he mentioned brunch together on Sunday. I guess he’s more worried about Mother than I realized.”
“No,” Val replied. “He’s more worried about you.”
“No reason to be,” Kit said. “I’m all right.”
“Kit, he loves you,” Val said. “And he wants to spend some time with you. The way …”
“The way Rick spends times with you,” Kit said. “Funny, Pop should be acting like this, with what’s going on with you.”
“Funny,” Val said. “But okay.”
“Yeah,” Kit said. “It’s okay.” She smiled at Val. “He got home before supper last night,” she said. “I asked him if he’d seen you, and he said yes, but he couldn’t talk about it, so I didn’t press him. Then we ate, and he drove us to the supermarket, so we could buy all the stuff we needed. We spent a fortune, but we had a really good time doing it. We put the groceries away together too, and we talked about me and school and what was going on in my life. Pop and I haven’t talked like that since Mother began drinking again last spring. And then we had some ice cream and he mentioned the weekend, doing all those things together. I even told him about the mattress. He said we’d go shopping for a new one Saturday morning.”
“That’s great,” Val said, and for the first time in her life, she envied Kit.
“It’ll never last,” Kit said. “But if we can just make it through the weekend, I’ll be satisfied. So did you talk to Rick?”
Val shook her head. “I was too scared,” she admitted.
“Rick can be scary,” Kit replied. “You just never noticed before.”
“I know I’m going to have to talk with him,” Val said. “He thinks I’m acting strange anyway. He’s right. I am. But I don’t know what to say.”
The school bell rang. “You’ll think of something,” Kit declared, which wasn’t at all what Val wanted to hear. She sighed, and walked into the building with the other girls.
Val made it through the morning without too much trouble, but when the bell rang for her lunch period, she realized how much she dreaded going there. During class, no one could talk to her, and while she’d been aware the other girls were still looking at her far more than normal, she could at least pretend not to notice. But lunch meant conversations with nervous Michelle and happy Kit as well as the possibility of visits from people like Caroline, and Val didn’t want to have anything to do with any of them. Besides, she wasn’t hungry. So instead of going to the lunchroom, she slipped off to the library.
She put her books down, pleased at her choice of refuge, and stared for a moment out the window. Most Precious Blood was located on tree-covered grounds, and the leaves were changing their colors. Val thought about the evergreens at home and wondered what it would be like if they ever lost their leaves, and light would be allowed to shine into the house. It was safer to wonder about that than about what Rick would say to her when she confronted him with what she knew.
“Val?”
Val turned around and saw Sister Gina Marie standing by her side.
“Yes?” Val said.
“May I sit down?” Sister Gina Marie asked. “I looked for you in the lunchroom, and when I didn’t see you, I thought I might find you in here.”
Val nodded. Sister Gina Marie took the seat next to her. Sister Rosemary didn’t even look up. Val supposed it was all right if one of the teachers made noise in the library.
“I’ve been worrying about you,” Sister Gina Marie said. “Have you had a chance to talk with your father?”
Val laughed. “You’re the third person who’s asked me that today,” she said. “Michelle and Kit and now you.”
“We’re all concerned about you,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “That’s natural enough.”
“Michelle’s more concerned about herself,” Val said. “And what Daddy’ll do to her family if he finds out she’s the one who told me.”
“Do you think he would do something?” Sister Gina Marie asked. “Or is Michelle exaggerating?”
Val remembered back to second grade. The girls were all telling what their fathers did for a living. “My daddy’s a businessman,” Val had said proudly. “He owns a construction business and builds lots of buildings.”
One of the girls, what was her name, she left at the end of that year, burst into laughter. “Your daddy’s a gangster,” she’d said. “He kills people. Everybody knows that.”
“Stop that, Shannon!” Sister Anne had said. Shannon, that’s right. Shannon O’Roarke. She and Kit had been friends in kindergarten until Shannon had failed to invite her to a birthday party.
“My daddy is not a gangster,” Val had said. Had she cried? She thought she remembered crying. “What’s a gangster?”
“A gangster is a bad man,” Sister Anne had replied. “Your father is a respectable businessman. I want all you children to repeat after me, ‘Mr. Castaladi is a respectable businessman.’”
They all had too. If Sister Anne had told them to say “Mr. Castaladi is a communist spy,” they would have. Val didn’t think she had reported the incident to her father when she’d gotten home, but she’d probably said something to her mother or to Connie. Or maybe Kit had, or Michelle. All Val knew was Shannon O’Roarke left Most Precious Blood, not at the end of the school year, now that she thought about it, but following Christmas vacation, and Rick gave the school a new stained-glass window for the chapel. The sisters made a big fuss about the window, and Val had been very proud of her daddy.
“Val? Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry,” Val said. “I guess my mind wandered.”
“I asked you if you’d had the chance to speak to your father,” Sister Gina Marie said. “Or is he still in Washington?”
“He’s back home,” Val said. “He got in last night. But I haven’t talked with him yet. Not about what Michelle told me.”
It was hard to read Sister Gina Marie’s reaction. Val thought at first she was concerned, but then she imagined she saw relief as well. Was Sister Gina Marie worried that Rick would hold Most Precious Blood responsible for her finding out? Had Sister Mary Margaret, the headmistress, talked with Sister Gina Marie about the consequences of Mr. Castaladi’s displeasure? At the very least, Rick might insist that all the Castaladi relations, as well as the ones on Val’s mother’s side, leave the school. Val added the numbers rapidly in her mind. There were at least ten or twelve kids she was related to at Most Precious Blood, if you started with kindergarten, and probably an equal number at Sacred Heart. Rick wouldn’t have to resort to violence to do damage to the school.
“Are you going to talk to him?” Sister Gina Marie asked.
“I don’t know,” Val replied. “What do you think I should do?”
Sister Gina Marie hesitated. “There are no easy answers,” she replied. “I prayed for you last night, Val, hoping Our Lord would give you His guidance.”
Nun talk. Val had hoped for better from Sister Gina Marie. “He didn’t,” she said.
“Maybe He has, but you just haven’t heard Him,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “Have you tried praying?”
Val shook her head.
“Then you might do better in the chapel than in the library,” Sister Gina Marie said. “You might find your answers there.”
“I know what I’ll find there,” Val said. “A stained-glass window my father paid for to show what a respectable businessman he is.”
“I don’t know your father,” Sister Gina Marie said. “I met him once or twice last year at school functions, but that?
??s been it. But I have no doubts he loves you very much, and I know you love him every bit as much.”
“I’m glad you have no doubts,” Val said. “Because I sure do.”
“You’re not a bitter girl,” Sister Gina Marie said. “I’ve known you long enough to be sure of that.”
“You’ve known me six weeks,” Val said. “Since school began. How can you possibly claim you know me?”
Sister Gina Marie put her hand on Val’s. “This is a very hard time for you,” she said. “But there are many people who love you. They’re praying you’ll be able to work things out, and find peace again.”
“I never had peace,” Val said. “I had lies. Lies about who I was, who my father was. Lies even about my mother. I can’t go back to those lies, and I can’t imagine what I’m going ahead to. How much truth am I supposed to face?”
“God will be with you,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “And He’ll see to it you’ll be surrounded by people who love you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I might have believed that a week ago,” Val said. “A week ago, I believed just about everything I was told. A week ago, I didn’t even question why I wasn’t allowed to take a walk by myself. I don’t believe anything anymore. If one thing in my life is a lie, then they all are. If I can’t have faith in my father, why should I have faith in God?”
“Because faith in God comes first,” Sister Gina Marie said. “All other belief stems from that.”
Val shook her head. “Not in my world,” she said. “In my world, belief starts with Rick Castaladi. What he tells you to believe is what you believe. If he decides there isn’t any God, then there isn’t. It’s that simple.”
“Nothing is that simple,” Sister Gina Marie said. “Not even your father would claim that sort of power.”
“What do you know about him?” Val asked. “Do you know something you haven’t told me?”
Sister Gina Marie closed her eyes for a moment. “Belief begins with God,” she said. “But answers begin with your father. You know you’ll have to talk with him at some point.”