A sharp rapping on the glass beside her head jolted her awake. Rain was pattering steadily against the windshield, and the lights in the parking lot shone dully against a night sky.
She turned toward the window, still groggy with sleep.
The eerie specter of Greg Fairchild’s pale face hovered on the other side of the glass. Dark wet curls plastered his furrowed brow, and his voice sounded muffled as he asked, “Are you okay?”
Connie cranked the window down, and a rush of cold, damp air instantly revived her. She blinked in surprise at seeing him. “Yeah. I guess I fell asleep. How are you?”
“Wet.” His frown transformed into an easy grin. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you going to be able to drive home all right? I’d offer you a ride, but I’m heading out with some friends.”
Embarrassment warmed Connie’s cheeks. “I’m fine, but thanks for asking. How did you find me? I’ve been watching for you all week, but I haven’t seen you.”
“I noticed the car.” He slapped the top of her old station wagon. “There aren’t too many of these babies around.” A woman called his name, and he straightened up and turned to answer, then bent down to look into Connie’s window once more, his face close to hers. His breath smelled of mint chewing gum. “I’ve got to go. But let me know if you want to ride together some time. I start at nine every day but Fridays. I don’t mind getting here earlier, though.”
Connie nodded. “I’d like to. Can we meet somewhere next week to talk about it?”
“How about right here on Monday? At noon?” He flashed his handsome smile at her once more, then stood up and glanced toward his friends. “You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I’m sure.” Connie grinned up at him. She was wide awake now and invigorated by the prospect of having a break from driving alone after all. “You’re getting soaked. I’ll meet you here at noon on Monday. Thanks.”
He waved and set off at a run to join his friends as Connie rolled up her window. She watched three guys and two girls disappear into the darkness beyond the weak light of the streetlamps before she turned the key to start the car.
She had forgotten how attractive he was. He looked especially good in the tight blue jeans and leather jacket he was wearing tonight. But she couldn’t go down that road. He had a girlfriend, and if he thought there was anything more to her wanting to ride with him, that could ruin her chances of sharing trips to school and back. She needed a fellow driver more than she needed a guy in her life.
She drove out onto the street and headed for the highway. The unrelenting rain and the blackness of night seemed to absorb all of the illumination from her headlights; at times she wondered if they were still on. She drove slower than usual, squinting into the all-encompassing darkness, afraid she would drive off the wet asphalt, and when she finally reached home and parked in front of the store, she was more than an hour late. A curtain moved in the brightly lit windows above the darkened store as she turned off the lights and motor. Someone had been watching for her, and she knew she was in for a lecture.
This is a good example of why I shouldn’t be driving alone, she thought, knowing full well that on this particular night Greg still would have left her on her own.
She cursed herself for not having an umbrella, then stretched her sweater around and over the books she clutched to her chest and bolted through the heavy rain to the wet staircase leading up the side of the house. Her mother opened the kitchen door as Connie reached it, and she hurried into the welcome warmth, her hair dripping chilly water down her face and neck as she entered. The room still smelled of the baked stuffed eggplant her mother had made for supper, and Connie realized how hungry she was. Her last meal had been a lunchtime bowl of clam chowder in the student union cafeteria.
“You’re late!” Mamma went to the sink and come back with a hand towel which she rubbed vigorously against Connie’s dripping hair.
“Geez, Ma, give me a minute.” Connie set her books on the kitchen table and peeled off her soaked sweater. Angie stood in the doorway to the living room, watching her; she could hear her father snoring in the room beyond. As Connie disengaged the final length of wet sleeve from her skin, Angie stepped into the kitchen and silently took the sweater from her, then disappeared into the bathroom with it.
“Driving was bad. Plus, I fell asleep in the parking lot for a while. I don’t know how long.” Connie took the towel from her mother and rubbed her own hair, then dried her face and neck and rubbed the wet skin on her forearms. She was beginning to warm up, and her attentions shifted to her rumbling stomach. “I’m sorry I missed supper. I left the library at four-thirty, like usual, but I was so tired, I just fell asleep when I got into the car. And then, I could hardly see in the rain. It’s like you have no headlights.”
Mamma turned on the oven, then went to the refrigerator and pulled out the pan of leftover eggplant. “This is only the second week of school, and you’re tired already? This is not good. Maybe you go to school too far away. Maybe you should go to St. Agnes. Gianna was never so tired.”
I’d rather poke my eyes out with a fork. “The first weeks are always tough. It’s just a matter of getting used to it. I’ll be fine.”
“I see,” Mamma said, but the tone of her voice made Connie think that her mother didn’t see at all. Mamma put the eggplant casserole into the oven, then pivoted to look into Connie’s face. “While you wait for your supper, your sister has something to tell you.”
Angie had returned to the kitchen and was pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. Her eyes were red and puffy, and Connie’s throat tightened with panic as she pulled out the chair across from Angie. “What?”
Angie’s red-rimmed eyes came up to meet Connie’s, and she frowned. “Not me. Gianna.”
Confused, Connie turned toward the living room where Gianna stood in the doorway, silently watching them. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and her glossy dark hair hung in a pageboy cut just above her shoulders. Connie gave her sister a wide grin. “Your hair looks great! It really changes your face. Did you get contacts, too?”
“Geezum, Connie.” Angie’s voice sounded strangled.
“I’m not getting contacts.” Gianna’s eyes were locked on Connie’s, and her face was tense. “I won’t need them. I’m joining the Carmelites.”
Connie stared at her, dumbfounded. Like all Catholic girls, she and Gianna had talked about becoming nuns when they were younger. Mostly, they admired the floor-length, layered habits the nuns wore, like medieval women living in castles. The Carmelites’ outfits were particularly attractive, with their brown-and-cream-colored robes instead of the usual black and white. Connie and Gianna had even picked out their names. She would be Sister Mary Sophia, and Gianna would be Sister Mary Peter.
“Say something,” Gianna said, her voice cold.
Only one word came to Connie. “Why?”
“Because I have a calling.”
“A calling? Like what?”
Gianna crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s what I want to do.”
Surely she was kidding. “Who called?”
Gianna stiffened, her anger clear. “Don’t make fun of me, Connie.”
She could shut down at any moment, and Connie needed to keep her talking.“I’m not. I’m trying to understand. When did you get this calling? And how?”
“I just know it’s the right thing to do, okay?” Gianna’s lip curled. “I didn’t hear voices, if that’s what you mean.”
“Why is it the right thing to do?” Connie persisted. “Aren’t the Carmelites cloistered? What are you doing? Running away?”
“They’re not all cloistered. There’s a convent in Chicago where they take care of orphaned kids. Some work with old people. Some do missionary work in other countries.”
“And don’t forget, they wear cool outfits,” Connie added, anger getting the better of her. “Gi, you’re not meant to be locked up in a convent! Is this about that guy?”
G
ianna’s face soured. “You don’t know what I’m meant for. You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Connie. You don’t know everything.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I never said I did, but I do know you, whether you want to believe that or not! We slept in the same bed for years, remember? We used to talk at night all the time! We used to talk about being nuns, and then, five minutes later, we’d be talking about our wedding gowns and who we were going to marry and how many kids we would have.”
Gianna’s expression turned fierce. “That’s right, and then I went to St. Agnes, and that’s when I realized that the nuns I met there were the happiest, most peaceful women I have ever known. They may live in convents but they have more freedom than the rest of us! They’re free of worrying about all the day-to-day stuff, and they can concentrate on doing good things.”
“You mean they’re free of having to make choices and fend for themselves! Free of having to act like adults! You’re trying to escape from life!”
Gianna threw up her hands in disgust. “I was wrong. You do know everything.”
Connie drew a deep breath in an effort to calm down. “You’ve been out of college for two years. What took so long?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve been talking to Sister Monica at the church about it for almost a year.”
“So then, why did you even agree to meet David?”
“I don’t know. But this has nothing to do with David, so stop bringing him up. I met the guy once. He’s nothing to me.”
Connie watched her sister’s face. Gianna’s demeanor had changed ever so slightly when she spoke of David; her eyes had twitched as she said his name. Connie shifted her gaze to Mamma, who was still standing beside the oven. She had been following their conversation as best she could, her eyes moving from one to the other.
“What does Papa think of this?” Connie asked her mother in Italian.
Mamma lifted her chin as if to elevate what she was about to say. “He is honored. Like any parent, it is his dream to give a son or daughter to the Church.”
Connie nodded, unconvinced. She shifted her attention to Angie. Her sister was staring down at the tablecloth, her face unreadable.
Connie looked back at Gianna. “If Papa said you could go out with David after all, would you reconsider?”
“I said, stop bringing him up.”
“That would certainly be the ultimate test of your commitment, don’t you think?” Connie said. “Wouldn’t you want to know?”
Gianna scowled.“No. It wouldn’t make any difference at this point. I told you, he’s nothing to me.”
Connie looked back at her mother. “Then, I think we should invite him to dinner. Don’t you, Mamma?”
Angie looked up from the table, her expression brightening.
Mamma looked confused. “Non capisco.”
“He’s been in the seminary,” Connie explained. “He knows what it’s like to have made a decision like this, and he can understand what Gianna’s going through better than any of us. Maybe he can at least help me understand. I’m not all that big on giving my sister to the Church.”
Angie smiled as she kept her gaze on Connie’s face.
“I would find that embarrassing,” Gianna said angrily. “I wouldn’t stay.”
“Why?” Connie asked with a smile. “You know, it’s perfectly okay to have friends of the opposite sex, Gi. It doesn’t mean anything. You like him as a person; you said so. So, let him be a friend.”
“I don’t see the point.”
Connie shrugged. “Okay, then I’ll just ask him to meet with me. I want to understand this calling thing and why someone would choose to close themselves off from so much that’s wonderful about God’s world.”
Gianna’s eyes narrowed once more. “Why don’t you just come out and say it, Connie? You don’t understand how somebody could choose to give up sex.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand why you would give up sex or kids or having a family.” Connie’s temper flared once more. “Your own house. Freedom. The ability to eat what you want, go to the movies, watch TV, listen to the Rolling Stones. Choose your own clothes. Take a trip. Sleep in. Go shopping. Change your hairstyle. You’ll never have an independent moment again, Gi!”
“Nuns go places. Cousin Vittoria was at Teresa’s wedding. I see nuns in bookstores,” Gianna answered.
“Yeah, but I bet they’re not buying Arthur Hailey novels. And Vittoria hasn’t been let out to see her sister’s new baby.”
“Enough!” Mamma held her hands up to stop them. “You give me the headache.”
Gianna went down the hallway to the bedrooms, out of sight without another word.
Angie stood up from the table and smiled at Connie. “Don’t give up. If anyone can stop her, it’s you.”
Connie watched Angie follow their mother into the living room, then went to the oven and pulled out the pan of eggplant, ready to eat it no matter what its temperature might be. She didn’t believe Gianna was serious about joining a convent, but, just in case, tomorrow morning she would get contact information for David Thomas from Father Ianelli.
Chapter Five
Saturday, September 14
David Thomas was easy to spot in the busy Main Street Diner. He was the only African American in a restaurant full of people.
As Connie approached, he rose from his seat in the booth and extended his hand. His skin was the color of her father’s dark-roast coffee, and he was tall and fit, dressed in a beige three-button shirt and slim-legged blue jeans. “I see the resemblance,” he said with a friendly smile, and she noticed how brilliantly white his even teeth were against the darkness of his face.
She slipped her hand into his. He was the first black person she had ever touched, and she hated the fact that she was so aware of his color, as if she expected his skin to feel different. He shook her hand, then released it and waited for her to slide into the seat across from his before he settled onto the red plastic upholstery once more.
Connie swallowed back her nervousness and forced a smile. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice. This is a little weird for me. I mean, I’m here to talk to you about my sister, and yet I’m not even sure what you think of her. I mean, that’s not why I’m here—to find out what you think of her—but this must seem kind of strange to you, too.”
David’s golden-brown eyes sparkled and a small smile played at his lips. He had pleasant, open features and a boyishness that made it hard to gauge his age. If she hadn’t known differently, she would have guessed him to be no more than twenty-five. “Do I make you nervous, or do you always talk that fast?” he asked.
Connie laughed, flustered. “Both, I guess. Like I said, I’m sort of putting you on the spot, but I don’t mean to.”
An unsmiling waitress dropped two menus in front of them, took their orders for coffee, and walked away.
Connie watched the unpleasant woman leave, and when she turned back to David, she found him studying her face. Curiosity had replaced the fun in his eyes.
“You said Gianna’s planning to go into a convent.” His voice was melodious, deep and soothing, and he spoke in a quiet, laid-back manner. “I didn’t realize she was thinking about that.”
“I didn’t either. That’s the reason I want to talk to you. I don’t understand why she’s doing it.”
“And you think I do?” He sounded surprised.
“Well, this is where it gets a little… weird.” Connie looked down at the menu without seeing a word on it. How could she say this without putting him on the defensive? “I think she… I know she really liked you. And I also know that… nothing happened.” She raised her eyes to meet his. He was watching her intently, his smile gone. “I’m not saying that you’re the reason she’s doing this. I’m just saying that I think that may have something to do with it. Gianna… doesn’t have a lot of self-confidence.”
David sat back in his seat, his expression guarded. “If y
ou’re going to blame someone for your sister’s unhappiness, blame your old man, not me.”
“I’m not blaming you,” Connie said, anxious to reassure him. “I’m telling you that because of how this all worked out, I’m afraid she’s making a rash decision.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it?”
The waitress set their coffees before them and pulled out her order pad. Connie glanced at the menu once more, then ordered a piece of apple pie, too jumpy to eat anything more. David ordered a ham sandwich, and the waitress left.
Connie forced herself to meet his gaze. “I guess I just want to know if you did ask her out.”
He regarded her with caution. “You couldn’t ask her?”
“She refuses to talk about it. I don’t know if she’s embarrassed because you never asked or heartbroken because she had to say no.”
“And what difference is that going to make now?”
Connie sighed. How could she explain it? “I guess I want to know if she’s giving up because she feels worthless or because she’s feeling hopeless. Does that make sense?”
He watched her for a long moment. “What if she’s not giving up? What if this is really what she wants to do?”
His evasiveness had pushed Connie to her limits. She stared directly into his eyes and let her voice convey her irritation. “Did you ask her out or not?”
A muscle in David’s jaw twitched. “I invited her to come see the museum where I work. She told me she couldn’t, that your father refused to let her see me.”
Connie breathed a sigh of relief. “I can explain that.”
“You don’t have to.” His eyes had turned cold. “Gianna is old enough to speak for herself.”
“I agree,” Connie said evenly. “But you need to understand something. We come from an old-fashioned family, and family is everything. She’s not going to choose between you and our father at this point. Family will always win.”
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