Blue

by Danielle Steel

  “I was kind of hoping that you fell in love with a nun, ran away together, and lived happily ever after. I always love those stories. I guess I’m a romantic at heart. An impossible love that finally works out.”

  “I like those stories, too,” he admitted. “They don’t happen very often. And let’s face it, most nuns today don’t look like Audrey Hepburn in The Nun’s Story. They’re a little portly, have funny haircuts, look like they forget to comb their hair, and wear sweatshirts and jeans, and only wear their habits when they go to Rome, and then they never seem to have their coifs on straight.” She could tell he was speaking from experience, and she laughed at what he said, although her sister would have been shocked by his irreverence. But he said it in a kind, humorous way, and it was true. “The only thing I fell in love with was studying canon law when I worked at the Vatican. It was fascinating, but I never saw a nun there who made my heart skip a beat.” She wondered if someone else had since. He was such an interesting, intelligent man.

  And then he answered her question without her having to ask it, as though he’d read her mind. “I never fully made it back into secular life. Maybe I left the church when I was too old and waited too long. I was fully released from my vows five years ago, when I was forty-three, kind of like an honorable discharge.” She was surprised—he was older than he looked. She had guessed him to be about thirty-nine or forty, not forty-eight. “But most of the time, I still feel like a priest, with all the typical Catholic guilt. Possibly being a Jesuit is forever. It had a powerful hold on me. I was very young when I went in. Too young. People don’t join the church as early today, which is better. They know what they’re doing when they make the decision. I had a lot of high ideals that never really made sense. But it took me a very long time to figure that out. I was in the order for twenty-five years. It’ll probably take me twice that long to really get out, if I ever do. So for now, I’m satisfied to be a troublemaker going after the bad ones like Father Teddy Graham.” He spoke of him with utter contempt. “That’s what I really wanted to do in the beginning. I was something of a crusader then. I wanted to be a good priest instead of a bad one. Now I’m just happy putting the bad ones behind bars, and shaking the tree for settlements for their victims. It’s not an entirely noble pursuit, since it involves money, but it works, as long as the money isn’t for me.” He was a purist at heart, and she wondered again if he was from a wealthy family, so he could take cases like Blue’s for free. There was something very aristocratic about him, but in a very unpretentious, modest way.

  “I suppose we’re both crusaders for human rights,” she said thoughtfully. “My sister accused me of that recently. Of being a crusader, with a Joan of Arc complex. She thinks it’s ridiculous. But it makes sense to me. I don’t have a husband and children. I have time to try to heal the ills of the world.”

  “We all find the paths that work for us sooner or later, some earlier than others. It sounds like you made the best of a bad situation and put it to good use. That’s an art,” he said, and he respected her for it, and a lucky boy named Blue had benefited from it. She could have spent the rest of her life crying over what she’d lost, but instead she was serving others.

  “My sister asked me if I was planning to adopt Blue. I never really thought about it seriously until she said it. Maybe we should talk about it one of these days.”

  “It would be wonderful for him, if that’s what you really want to do. You should think about it for a while and be sure.”

  “I will. That’s good advice.”

  “Well, I’ll see you at the archdiocese on Monday. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop around the corner, just to brief you on some of the details and the cast of characters. It never hurts to have the inside scoop.”

  “That will be great. Thank you again,” she said warmly.

  “And my condolences again,” he said, and they hung up, she went to see what Blue was doing, and he surprised her by saying he felt sick.

  “What kind of sick?” she asked him, and put the back of her hand on his forehead to see if he had a fever, but he didn’t. “You’re probably just tired from the trip.” They’d had a hectic few days with the funeral and the rosary and the flights back and forth to California. But she noticed that he looked pale, and just before he went to bed that night, he threw up. She thought he had a touch of stomach flu. She sat up with him for a while, and when he dozed off finally, she went to bed herself.

  What seemed like minutes later, someone was shaking her awake, and she woke up with a start. She looked up, confused about where she was for a minute, and Blue was standing next to her bed, crying, which he had never done before.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him as she hopped out of bed.

  “My stomach hurts. I mean really, really hurts…a lot.” She told him to lie down on her bed, and thought about calling a doctor, and then he threw up again and doubled over in pain, and when he showed her where it hurt, she could see that it was the lower right quadrant of his abdomen. She’d had enough advanced first aid training to know what that was. She got dressed immediately, and told him gently that they were going to the emergency room. He said he felt too sick to get dressed, so she helped him put on a robe over his pajamas, and he slipped his feet into his high-top Converse, and they were on the street five minutes later, hailing a cab. She told the driver to take them to Mount Sinai Hospital, which was the closest medical facility to her apartment.

  They were in the emergency room five minutes later, and Blue described his symptoms to the nurse, while Ginny took care of the paperwork at the admissions desk in the ER. She filled out everything she needed to, then realized she didn’t have an insurance card for him. She ran back to talk to him at the nurses’ station, where he was sitting in a wheelchair, looking green and holding a bowl under his chin in case he threw up again.

  “Blue, do you have insurance?” she asked him gently, and he shook his head, and she ran back to the admissions desk, and told them he didn’t have any. The admissions clerk did not look happy about it.

  “You can just bill it directly to me,” Ginny said quickly, and added her address to the form. She’d stumbled for a minute over the part that said next of kin, and thought of putting her own name down, but she listed his aunt instead, which was the truth. She had put herself on the form as the person who brought him in.

  “We’re not allowed to do that. We can’t bill you,” the clerk said as she looked over the form. “It would be better if he had an insurance card.” She wrote “No insurance” on the form.

  “Are you his mother?” she asked suspiciously.

  “No, I’m not,” Ginny said honestly, wondering if it was a mistake.

  “Then you can’t sign the admitting form. He’s a minor. It has to be signed by his next of kin or a parent or guardian.”

  “It’s four-thirty in the morning, and I don’t want to waste time finding her,” Ginny said, distracted and frantic.

  “We can treat him in an emergency, but should notify her,” the clerk said sternly, as Ginny wondered if Charlene was on duty at the hospital that night. It would simplify everything if she was.

  By then, Blue was with the doctor, who was examining him, and Ginny walked in to join them. Blue looked terrified, and she patted his hand. The doctor walked out of the exam room with her to talk to her in the hall.

  “He’s got a hot appendix,” he explained to her. “We have to take it out tonight. I don’t want to wait.” She nodded—she had suspected as much.

  “That’s fine, but we have a problem. I’m not his guardian, his parents are deceased, he has an aunt who is his guardian but whom he never sees, and he lives with me. Can I just sign the form?” The doctor shook his head.

  “No, but you don’t need to. You can try to locate her while we’re in surgery. We can take him to the OR now, but his guardian should be notified.” Ginny agreed and decided to wait to call Charlene until after Blue was wheeled away. She went back into the room to see him then. He
was throwing up again while a nurse held the bowl for him. He looked miserable, and his eyes were bigger than ever in his suddenly very pale face. They were anxious to get him to surgery and he had an IV in his arm. A male nurse came in a minute later and explained the procedure to Blue. He was crying and Ginny kissed his forehead as they wheeled his bed into the hall, and minutes later, they rolled him into the elevator and took him away, as Ginny stood alone in the hallway, crying, too.

  She called Charlene’s cell phone then, hoping she was at work, but a sleepy voice answered. It was Charlene. She was startled to hear Ginny crying at the other end. Ginny explained the situation to her, and she could hear a male voice next to Charlene, complaining about the call waking them at 5 a.m. She assumed it was Harold, Charlene’s boyfriend.

  “He’ll be all right,” Charlene told her, sounding less worried than Ginny. “I’ll sign the admitting forms tomorrow when I come to work.” She sounded casual about it, which upset Ginny. They hung up a minute later, and Ginny went to sit in a waiting room, to wait for Blue to come back from surgery. And he’d have to go to the recovery room first. It gave her time to think of their situation again. Legally, she and Blue were in limbo, and his getting sick made her think that becoming his guardian made sense. Charlene didn’t want responsibility for him, and Ginny did.

  Blue came back from the recovery room at eight in the morning. They put him in a semi-private room with an empty bed. He was groggy and slept until noon, and Ginny took advantage of it to go home and shower and change clothes. When she got back, she sat on a chair next to his bed, and she dozed while he slept all afternoon. And at five o’clock, she went to the cafeteria, to meet Charlene. Ginny had the admitting forms with her, and Charlene signed them and handed them back to her. And then she startled Ginny with what she said.

  “I don’t want to be his guardian anymore. I never see him. He’s not my son. And he lives with you,” Charlene said sensibly.

  What she said made perfect sense and made Ginny realize that she did want to be his guardian, but Blue had a voice in it and she wanted to ask him.

  She spent the night at the hospital with him, and two days after his surgery, she took him home and pampered him. They sat on the couch watching TV together, and she asked him about her becoming his guardian. He broke into a broad smile when she did.

  “You’d do that for me?” he asked her with tears in his eyes.

  “If you want me to. I can ask Andrew about it,” and when she did, he said it was a simple procedure, especially at Blue’s age. At fourteen, he had a say in it, and with Blue wanting her to, Ginny wanting to become his guardian, and Charlene asking to relinquish guardianship, the hearing would only be a formality. Ginny was a responsible person, and Andrew said no court would object to her. And she made reliable arrangements for him when she traveled.

  “I can handle it for you, if you like,” Andrew volunteered, and Ginny asked him to get the process started. He was going to request an early hearing, in Blue’s circumstances, and with the investigation ongoing, Andrew felt sure they would agree to the change of guardianship quickly.

  Just talking about it made Ginny and Blue happy. She knew it was the right decision, and Blue blossomed, knowing that she wanted him in her life long-term, and was willing to take responsibility for him. Nothing else mattered to either of them. And as he recovered from the surgery, they celebrated their plan. They talked about what they were going to do as soon as he could go out. She made him his favorite foods, and they watched his favorite movies. Knowing she was going to be his guardian strengthened the bond between them. His bout of appendicitis had turned out to be a blessing for both of them. They could hardly wait for the hearing to confirm it.

  Chapter 16

  Andrew came to visit Blue at the apartment while he was convalescing. He brought him sports magazines and a video game. Blue was feeling better by then, and was happy to see him. He thought it was nice that Andrew had come, and he liked the game. Andrew told them both that he had set the wheels in motion for the change in guardianship, and requested the hearing. He had also gotten the meeting at the archdiocese moved from Monday to Friday, while Ginny was taking care of Blue after the surgery.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Blue said, lying on the couch, after Andrew’s visit.

  “Yes, he is,” Ginny agreed, thinking of the upcoming meeting at the archdiocese, which was two days away.

  “You should be with someone like him,” Blue volunteered. She thought it was an odd thing to say.

  “Why would I want to be? I don’t want to be with anyone,” she said. She still felt married to Mark, and was convinced she always would. She had never taken off her wedding ring. “Besides, I have you now.”

  “That’s not enough,” he said wisely.

  “Yes, it is,” she said, smiling at him. And now that she was going to be his legal guardian, it was more than enough.

  The morning of the meeting with the archdiocese, she left him in bed with his laptop and a stack of video games, then took a cab to meet Andrew at the coffee shop. She was ten minutes late and apologized profusely.

  “I had to get Blue organized before I left. Sorry,” she said, and ordered coffee. He was wearing khaki slacks, a navy linen blazer, and a blue shirt with an open collar. He warned her that the monsignor and whoever he had with him would probably be stern with her in order to scare them off, and might even accuse Blue of lying. No matter what the monsignors thought privately, initially they would defend Father Teddy, and deny everything Blue had said. Andrew knew their game.

  “Monsignor Cavaretti’s theory was always that the best defense is a good offense. Don’t let him impress you. He’s no fool, he knows we’ve got them on this one, which will make him try to scare you off, if he can. He doesn’t want the bad publicity, and if the archdiocese knows what Ted Graham was up to, it’s in for a heavy dose of it for covering it up and moving him someplace else. None of this looks good for them.” And ultimately, he thought Blue would be an excellent witness, he was such a straightforward, ingenuous kid. “I’ve got it covered,” Andrew said reassuringly as he paid for their coffee, and they walked around the corner for the meeting.

  Just arriving at the archdiocese was impressive, as Andrew and Ginny were led into a waiting room with high ceilings, beautiful serious antique furniture, carved wood panels, and a crucifix on the wall. The building was pleasantly air conditioned in the New York summer heat. Ginny felt momentarily overwhelmed.

  “Are you okay?” Andrew whispered to her, and she nodded, though it was daunting. And a moment later, a young priest came in to lead them upstairs to Monsignor Cavaretti’s office, and Ginny saw that there were three monsignors waiting for them in the handsomely appointed room. There was a beautiful portrait of the Holy Father above the desk, and photographs of a number of bishops and cardinals around the room. And as soon as they walked in, a small round man in monsignor’s robes came toward Andrew with a warm smile. Monsignor Cavaretti had been a priest for nearly fifty years, and had the bright lively eyes of a much younger man.

  “It’s good to see you, Andrew,” he said, patting him on the shoulder affectionately, with a genuinely pleased look in his eyes. “So when are you coming back to us?” he teased him. “You should be working with us on this,” he said more seriously. They had worked together on many projects in Rome, for two of Andrew’s four years there, and the older monsignor had great respect for Andrew’s abilities. He had always said he was one of the best lawyers at the Vatican, and would be a cardinal one day. It had been a great disappointment to him when he heard that Andrew had asked to be released from his vows, although he hadn’t been entirely surprised. Andrew had always been very independent, freethinking, at times more dedicated to the ideals of the law than to the church, and he had a deeply questioning, sometimes cynical mind. He never accepted things at face value, nor did what he was told to do. He had to believe something was right, and that it conformed to his principles as well, before he did it. It made him a for
midable opponent at times, as he suspected he would be now. He didn’t underestimate Andrew, just as Andrew didn’t underestimate him.

  In Rome the monsignor had treated him like a son, and had taught him the inner workings of Vatican politics, and they had spent a number of late nights drinking many glasses of wine at the chancellery in Rome. It was at the time when Andrew had started having doubts about his vocation and the path he was on. And his reasons for leaving made him even more dangerous now, as the monsignor was well aware. Andrew was an idealist, and these cases were a holy crusade for him, while for the monsignor, they were just part of the work he did for the church. Andrew had expected every priest to be perfect, including himself. Monsignor Cavaretti knew the weaknesses of the priests, as well as men. “You’ll be back one of these days,” he said to Andrew with such certainty that Ginny was surprised and wondered if it was true.

  “Not just yet,” Andrew joked with him. “And in the meantime, we have work to do.” He introduced Ginny then, and the monsignor shook her hand.

  Monsignor Cavaretti introduced the other two monsignors standing in the room with him then, and Andrew explained that Ginny was becoming Blue’s legal guardian, and he lived with her and then the short round monsignor waved them toward a couch with a low table and several comfortable chairs. He wanted to set an informal tone for their first conversation to see if they could dissuade Ginny and Andrew from taking the matter further. The police had brought no official charges against Ted Graham yet, so this was the time to try to change their minds, particularly before it caught the attention of the press. So far, there was no harm done, which would not be the case in a few weeks, once the matter was scheduled to go to the grand jury.

  Monsignor Cavaretti glanced carefully at Ginny, taking her measure. She was wearing a serious black linen pantsuit, and no jewelry except her wedding band. He was surprised to note that she was married—the information he’d been given was that the previously homeless boy lived alone with her. He wondered why she’d gotten involved with him. He also knew that she’d been a television reporter, which the monsignor thought was a dangerous combination with Andrew, if she had an investigative style, coupled with his burning passion for a cause. They could turn out to be a lethal team. Cavaretti was taking that into account, and proceeding with caution.