"See, Jane, my daughter's not a no-show,” Sherry, Victoria's mother, teased as she took the cake from her daughter and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Hi, Mom. Hello, everyone. I'm sorry I'm late. I found myself caught up in a story I'm doing, and I couldn't stop. Then I had to park three blocks away."
The parade began, and it would be a while before any of the marchers reached the street of town hall. Victoria had made it and with time to spare.
Looking across the street where the historic house, now the River Point Town Hall, stood, she relaxed in preparation of the fun day ahead.
The town hall was an old Victorian-style home, completely updated and remodeled, appealing to the small town's unique historical aura. People covered the enormous side lawn area. Large tables filled with crafters and artists, along with their latest creative works, continued to set up their displays in hopes of selling out as the day continued. Victoria figured she would check out the displays later, once the parade concluded.
"We'll go over there later to check out the crafts. I heard Mary Duberry has a whole display of her hand crafted jewelry,” Sherry stated.
"That would be great. I love her jewelry,” Victoria added.
"Hey, Tory, glad to see you made it in time. Did they block off Maple and Cherry Avenue already?” Peter asked.
"Yes. They did. I had to park a few blocks away on Mercy Drive."
Victoria had a feeling her brother was trying to help make excuses for her late arrival. Her aunt was a bit extreme for her liking.
* * * *
The town celebration for Memorial Day would continue into the evening hours. The local fire department had set up a DJ booth and volunteers prepared entertainment for the children and the adults. There was plenty to do.
Victoria recalled her childhood memories of when the celebration was much smaller but still fun and exciting. She and her brothers, Peter and James, along with her other cousins, would enjoy watching the parade from home. After the parade, they would walk across the street to the town hall where her uncles and father handed out lollypops, ice cream sandwiches, and other goodies to all the little kids in town.
Her father, Danny, her Uncle Patrick and Uncle Jack, who owned a local fencing company, would participate every year after marching in the parade. They enjoyed the tradition and were doing the same this year.
"Victoria, what was so important that you couldn't get here on time?” Aunt Jane asked, and Victoria caught the looks from her mother and cousins. The looks warned her not to start a fight with her bossy aunt. Aunt Jane was a good-hearted person, very caring and friendly, but for some reason, she felt that somewhere along the line that the family needed discipline and she appointed herself leader. No one seemed to argue that fact, except Victoria. She expressed her annoyance with Uncle Patrick and asked why he couldn't settle her down a bit. Of course, Uncle Patrick always tried to be civil and played mediator.
Victoria recalled his words, “She just wants to feel important and keep the family together. By taking charge and organizing every family gathering, she feels she's doing this." Even with his reassurances, Aunt Jane still tended to get on her nerves.
Sighing, she responded to her aunt's inquiry.
"It's getting closer to crunch time, Aunt Jane. I have two separate articles in this month's edition of Search And Seizure magazine, and I want to be finished ahead of time. I thought I was, then more ideas came to me, and I had to write them down immediately. That's why I was a little late."
"Well, family is most important, dear. Everyone else got here on time, and we all have busy lives."
Victoria clenched her teeth, but maintained a civil expression.
She never claimed her life was busier or more important than anyone else's. What nerve.
"Jane, she's here, isn't she? So, cool it. She even made a cake. Let's just settle down and enjoy the parade.” Sherry took Victoria's arm and led her to the front yard to sit on some lawn chairs and watch the parade.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Aunt Jane check out the cake. Victoria knew she was seeing if it was store bought or homemade. Thank God, she got up at five thirty this morning to bake it, or she would have been forced to hit the bakery down the road and pray Aunt Jane didn't personally inspect the Tupperware.
* * * *
The family gathered around, talking and having a good time as they waited for the parade to reach Main Street. Family and friends told jokes and updated one another on their lives’ events.
The first marchers appeared. The local politicians led the way. Victoria laughed as a few onlookers actually booed the town political leaders.
"He is so good looking; my heart is beating really fast right now.” Victoria's cousin, Sally, gave her a light tap with her elbow.
"You think so?” Victoria pretended to act as if she had never seen the handsome politician before.
Sally appeared to have followed her line of sight.
"Not Bret Collins. I meant Roy Sanders,” Sally exclaimed and the heat hit Victoria's cheeks.
She cleared her throat when Sally laughed but kept her gaze glued to Roy Sanders.
Victoria's attention remained on the other politician.
Bret Collins, a very handsome man who was involved in various types of businesses, slowly made his way down the side street.
She heard around town his businesses ranged from restaurants, to small sidewalk shops, gas stations, and Laundromats.
Bret Collins sat on the town board and had his sights on the position of town supervisor. He made that perfectly clear to everyone.
Through the grapevine, she had heard his own family would benefit if he got the position because each of his brothers owned local businesses, as well. He has connections to Delaney Construction, which began to monopolize most of the larger construction projects in the county. Victoria met him for the first time last week at a fundraiser for a local child in the area diagnosed with leukemia. Hundreds of supporters showed up, and Victoria's editor from the magazine, John, knew Bret very well and introduced them.
"He's a very sexy man, Tory, but I wouldn't have the guts to even talk to him.” Sally watched him slowly pass by the front yard.
"Why is that? He's just a man."
"Not just a man. A God!"
Victoria laughed, and Sally grabbed her arm to gain Victoria's full attention.
"Maybe just a man to you, Tory, but I have heard some pretty intense things about him. He's way too hot to handle and you're..."
She squinted at her younger cousin. “I'm what?"
Sally eyed Victoria from head to toe.
"You're a goody, goody."
Victoria didn't know if she should feel proud or embarrassed by the way her cousin described her.
"I don't know why we're talking about this. He's not my type at all.” Victoria swallowed hard.
Sally smiled. “Good, because an older man like that would only hurt you, never mind, corrupt you."
"Umm, the last time I checked I was three years older than you."
"You may be three years older than me, cuz, but definitely not as experienced.” Sally eyed her up and down again before placing her hands confidently on her hips and walking away.
She never knew her cousin Sally was so assertive.
Victoria watched Bret as he drove by in a classic red Mustang, waving at the crowd and glancing at Victoria. He had a good twelve years on her and she knew her family pretty much disliked his political ideas, but something about him that interested her. Maybe it was the rumors how wealthy he was and all the women whose hearts he broke. She really wasn't sure, but if they crossed each other's paths again, she would definitely learn more about him.
Then everyone's attention drew toward the shiny, red fire trucks all decked out in their parade best. The trucks slowly drove past, firefighters tossing lollipops at the children watching.
A moment later, bunches of lollipops landed on, by, and around Victoria. Glancing toward the trucks, she immedi
ately identified the culprits, then waved and smiled.
She could see her other cousin, Tom, along with his good friends he'd grown up with. Victoria smiled when she saw her Uncle Patrick and Cousin Connor marching alongside the other officers in the parade.
Victoria sighed. She thought about her father and the past years watching the parade. It was ... different without him.
Every year, her father and brother, Peter, would march side by side with huge smiles on their faces. Her father would wave to his wife, Sherry, and to Victoria, as well.
"Kyle Mathew's, don't you dare put the cotton candy in your sister's hair.” Sally grabbed their cousin by the arm and walked him toward his parents.
Victoria laughed at the sight. The family continued to grow.
With thoughts of children, marriage, and family, came the rush of loss and worry.
Victoria thought about her brother, James. She missed him terribly and prayed he was safe.
Early last night, there had been some breaking news on television about an explosion at one of the military bases.
She remained glued to the television until confirmed reports came in there were no casualties.
James, a lieutenant in the army and stationed in Faluhja was due back home in six months, if all went well. They had just received a letter from him three days ago. He sounded energized and motivated to be there and get his job done. James had been able to come home for his father's funeral on a three-day pass, which was wonderful for the whole family.
He, being the oldest child, had difficulty leaving his family, feeling he was responsible to support them.
"Hey, Mardullo, interview any bad guys lately?” her cousin, Drake, asked.
She knew her cousin had been referring to the interview she had recently done with an inmate somehow connected to multiple murders but behind bars for a different crime.
Her interrogation skills and investigative techniques got the guy to confess to other unsolved murders.
"You liked that, huh? It went pretty well, but I wish I had more time, so that I could have really given it to him."
"Weren't you nervous, sitting in that room alone with a man capable of such violence?"
"I focused on the objective. I had a job to do and I did it."
"Well, it was great."
"Thank you."
Drake smiled then heard someone call his name. He made his way over to Peter.
She grinned at her brother. He returned the smile, and they both looked toward Aunt Jane.
It amazed her how close she was to her brothers and mom. They appeared as if they could read her mind.
Victoria recalled the way the three of them, Peter, James, and she, sat on the back porch swing together the night of their dad's funeral. Their mom lay asleep in her room, physically and emotionally exhausted. They, however, held one another, Victoria in the middle. They planned a strategic way of handling things—which of them would take care of the finances, the bills, Mom, and the house. The list went on. James would try to do his part but from a distance. He had his military career, his obligation to the country, and to make his personal effort to ensure that there would never be another September 11.
They would all pull together. It was the family way. They always worked together, one unit, one team, and never left to feel all alone. She laughed when she thought about it. Her father would give them plenty of warning if a meeting were to occur. He'd say, “Mardullo family meeting, seven tonight, back porch.” The three of them would laugh if the meeting was for something good, but cringe if it were for something bad.
Like the time James and Peter had a fight with some other guys and the police were called. No one pressed charges or anything. The other guys started it, but Dad swore he and Mom were not raising hoodlums or troublemakers. Victoria was in just as much trouble because she tried to use her cover-up makeup to hide her brothers’ bruised cheeks. Those were the days. Happy times, funny memories, a family bond so strong, they all thought nothing could penetrate it or destroy it.
Now here she was, knowing she should at least confide in her brother about her plans and her progress into her father's murder, but she knew what the result would be. "You shouldn't get involved. You're not a detective, a trained professional. Leave it to the police."
She just couldn't do it. Victoria was a professional, good at her particular job, writing major articles for the magazine, interviewing homicide detectives, police officers, prosecuting and defense attorneys. She was damn good at it. She'd use whatever skills, connections, and everything else she had. There wasn't anyone who could stop her.
Victoria looked toward her brother, Peter, determined to keep her cool, remain silent, but confide in him when the time was right. Avoiding his glances and her own guilty feelings, she knew that remaining silent about the investigation was her best option.
Since Dad died, all the males in the family were overprotective. Knowing she showed no fear, no weakness despite the multiple losses in her life, she wasn't certain she could fool her brothers and mom. Their bond was too strong and the next few weeks that bond would be somewhat tested. The moment the family was to discover she had accessed her father's case file; all hell would break loose, starting with Peter and Uncle Pat.
For too long, she leaned on them, allowed them to have an invisible control because of that protectiveness. Lately, she felt the need to let go of the binds that held her back, kept her undercover and confined. One of those binds was accepting that Steven didn't love her and wasn't coming back.
Taking a deep breath, feeling the stabbing pain to her heart from only thinking his name, she would force herself to move on.
Looking around the party, hoping no one had noticed her moment of weakness, she spotted Peter. Their gazes locked, his eyebrows creased as he lipped the words, “Are you okay?"
Smiling, she lipped a, “Fine,” as he continued his conversation with one of his friends.
Peter was tall and handsome with light brown hair and brown eyes, just like their father. He received more of the Italian genes in the family than the Irish genes. James looked more Irish than Italian with his reddish brown hair, green eyes, and trim build. Victoria was a combination of both Italian and Irish.
Dad's side had more Italian and Mom's side had a lot more Irish blood. That was obvious by the looks of Uncle Patrick who could have stepped right off the boat, directly from Ireland. Looking at Uncle Patrick, she imagined him speaking in his Irish brogue later while he drank beer and talked about the old days with friends.
Taking in the sounds and sights around her, she locked gazes with Peter who was standing by the old maple tree. He had been watching the parade with Uncle Jack, Aunt Sarah, and Aunt Jane.
He headed toward her.
She cringed just thinking he may be able to read her mind after all. If that were the case, then he would surely bust her.
Peter, a SWAT team, training officer for the local police department had obviously decided not to march this year. Victoria was certain he just couldn't handle the emotions or the memories yet.
* * * *
"Hey, Tory. You okay?” Peter gave her a kiss on her cheek.
Smiling, she glanced up into his eyes. She could sense his uneasiness.
"Couldn't miss it, you know, the Malley family tradition and all."
"Yeah, family tradition.” Peter glanced back toward the road.
Victoria couldn't help but become teary-eyed herself as the familiar sound of the local police department bagpipe band led the way for the officers marching. It was a familiar sound and sight that she always associated with seeing her father as he marched along the parade route. The pipes not only had a distinct sound, but also, stirred an emotion inside her with every chord and every song. She always loved the feeling it caused deep in her belly and her heart. It made her foot tap and her hips sway to each bang on the large drum along with its rhythm.
It was more then her Irish heritage or growing up in a family of law enforcement officers, fir
efighters, and soldiers. The instruments held everything together, whether in celebration like today, or in great sorrow and loss as they had a year ago.
Victoria's heart ached.
Her mother, seeming to sense her daughter's sorrow, appeared behind her, and embraced Victoria's shoulders. “I miss him, too, baby. I'm sure he's watching us right now and has that huge smile on his face."
"I'm sure he is, too, Mom."
Victoria swallowed hard, submerging the tears and emotion, the scars still raw and deep. She wondered if she would ever recover. Would there eventually be a normalcy to their lives again? Glancing at her mom and her discomfort to appear happy and at ease, never mind functional, Victoria would continue to focus on her mom's loss more than her own. Right now, Sherry needed Victoria's strength.
They continued to watch the parade, waving at people they knew, and inviting them to join the rest of the family for the big celebration.
* * * *
An hour later, the party got crowded. Men in various uniforms gathered in Uncle Patrick's front and backyard, drinking beer, sipping soda, and talking shop. The Malley family had relatives all over the county, and it was an on-going joke that they seemed related to everyone.
Sherry watched her daughter, Victoria, as she spoke with Tom, Connor, and a few of their friends. She could read her daughter's body language—the way she tensed up when a man got too close or flirted with her.
Sherry couldn't help being concerned about the affect all this loss may be having on Victoria's social life. She hadn't dated anyone in more than a year, was absorbed in the magazine she wrote for, and kept everything inside. She had been through so much in the past fifteen months.
Sherry continued to watch Victoria, observed the way she conducted herself, so classy and professional. She was gorgeous, young, and vibrant. The circumstances of the past had taken a toll on that vibrancy. Victoria put on an act around her family and it didn't fool Sherry one bit.
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