Hope's Angel (27 page)

His voice was quiet. “What’s this all about?”

Connie twisted in her seat to face him. “Did you hear anyone in your
family say ‘We hope to see you again’ or ‘See you soon’ or whatever it is
people say when they’re expecting you to come back?”

Greg didn’t answer.

“I don’t fit, Greg.”

“You’re reading too much into one visit.”

“Am I?” Connie fought to keep her voice under control. He needed to see
she wasn’t angry, she was simply facing the truth. “Why do you think your
mother and sister brought up Candy? That wasn’t just coincidence.”

Greg sighed. “I admit, sometimes they’re thoughtless. And my sister
will never win any prizes for tact. But I don’t think they meant you any harm.
They’re just slow to accept change. They need time to get to know you.”

The cold night air was penetrating her coat, and she gave a little
shiver. “Can we go? I’m beginning to freeze.”

Greg started the motor and turned on the heater, but instead of putting
the car in gear, he twisted toward her once more. “Come here. I’ll warm you
up,” he said softly.

Connie slid into his arms as best she could, fighting the gap between
the bucket seats and the protruding floor shift at her knees. Necking was much
easier when they were in her Plymouth with its bench seat and automatic
transmission, but soon she was oblivious to anything but the feel of his mouth
on hers. Too soon, however, he pulled back and looked at her. “We need to go
somewhere more comfortable. This sucks.”

“My parents are probably still at my grandma’s.”

“What about your sisters?”

“Angie’s in Swanton, and Gianna went to Boston with David. She won’t be
back until late.”

He nodded, then turned on the headlights, put the car in gear, and drove
away from the curb. “What’s Angie doing in Swanton?”

“She’s with her other family.”

“That’s where they live? We weren’t that far from Swanton when we were
at Brad and Bunny’s. That’s pretty close to that cemetery with the angel that
freaked you out.” He turned to look at her. “That could explain why you knew
that place.”

Connie glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know how adoptions work, but assuming she was, like,
born to an unmarried teenager or something, maybe you went to Swanton to pick
her up, and that’s when you saw the angel.”

Connie nodded, hoping he would drop the subject if she didn’t prolong
the conversation.

He turned the car onto a main road heading toward the north end of town.
“You were looking for information about the Abenaki,” he said. “There are a lot
of Abenaki around Swanton.”

Connie was beginning to regret mentioning where Angie had gone. “I
thought you said the Abenaki were pretty much non-existent in the state.”

“Actually, that’s one of the places where they do live. I think that’s
one of the bands that even has a chief.”

“Really.”

Greg glanced at her as he drove. “You don’t sound very interested. I
take it Angie found all the information she needs?”

“I think so.”

Greg looked back at the road without answering. His face had gone
rigid, and he looked angry.

“Angie’s part Abenaki,” Connie said, knowing he suspected as much but
wouldn’t ask again.

Greg nodded. “I really don’t have anything against them, you know.”

 His words took Connie by surprise. “I never thought you did. She just
wasn’t ready to tell everybody.”

They drove through town, then turned down her street. The windows above
the store were still dark.

“How long before your parents come home?” Greg asked as he pulled up
beside the curb.

Connie shrugged.“I have no idea. If other relatives are around and they
start playing cards, it could be hours. If not, they could be right behind us.”

Greg turned off the motor and lights as he gave her a sideways glance. “What
are they going to think if they come home and find us there alone?”

“I guess it depends on what we’re doing.” She gave him a teasing smile and
pushed her car door open.

They climbed the stairs and went into the darkened kitchen. The house
was silent; no one was home. After turning on the light above the kitchen sink,
Connie went into the living room and turned on the television and the lamp
beside the couch. She had learned her lesson. The curtains were drawn; no one
would be able to see in, and she would hear her parents coming into the kitchen
before they could see her.

She turned to Greg and unzipped his jacket while he unbuttoned her
coat. They smiled into each other’s eyes, and she put her arms around his neck
and kissed him.

The anorexic physiques of the Fairchild women came into Connie’s mind
as his kisses grew more intense. Perhaps Connie’s well-rounded figure was just
another manifestation of her peasant background, but, somehow, she didn’t think
the youngest Fairchild son was going to judge her negatively for it.

Chapter
Nineteen

Thursday, December 12

Connie and Gianna walked down Barre’s Main Street, stepping over small
patches of snow that had tumbled onto the sidewalk from the copious snowbanks along
the curb. Christmas lights twinkled in storefront windows, and the decorative holiday
banners stretching over the street swayed in the afternoon breeze. Connie had taken
her last final exam, and school was over for a few weeks.

“Was it hard seeing Nino again?” Gianna asked.

Connie’s mind drifted back to his three-day leave the weekend before, remembering
how good he looked, but how different. His black t-shirt had stretched across
an impressive set of upper body muscles and a taut midriff, and he seemed older,
more serious, definitely more mature. He had done most of the talking when he
came to see her on Sunday, telling her about his experiences on Parris Island,
reassuring her that his time in Vietnam would be a piece of cake. Only his soft
brown eyes had revealed how scared he really was. “He’s changed a lot. He’s a
real marine—the buzz cut, the whole thing.”

“Did he say anything about you and Paul?”

Connie shook her head. “I don’t know if he even knows. Besides, it’s
over. There’s nothing to say.” She thought about Nino’s face once more, how he
had left her with a bear hug and an overly optimistic smile and his APO address
written on the back of her mother’s Christmas card list.

“When I was getting my hair cut the other day, Anne asked me about you.
She said Paul’s not seeing anybody, and he’s been going out and getting drunk a
lot.”

“Not my problem.”

“She said it’s because you won’t give him a chance.”

Connie turned to look in the store window beside her. It was full of
colorful posters advertising Caribbean cruises and trips to sunny Hawaii. She
didn’t want to think about Paul. “I really don’t care what she said. I’m not
interested.”

“So, you’re happy with Greg?”

“Very happy.”

“Good.” Gianna nodded. “Maybe Christmas dinner with his family will go
fine.”

Connie grimaced at the thought of navigating that obstacle course
again. “Maybe.”

“You said his mother’s not so bad.”

“I’m not sure.” Mrs. Fairchild’s patronizing smile flashed before
Connie’s eyes. “She could be hoping his fascination with the
paesana
from the other side of the tracks will wear off if
she doesn’t fight it.”

Gianna sidestepped a patch of ice. “Do you think that’s what’s
happening? With him, I mean?”

“I hope not, but who knows?”

Gianna’s expression was solemn as her dark eyes searched Connie’s face.
“When he’s at the house, he sure acts like he’s nuts about you. And I’m not
just saying that.”

“And I’m not saying that he’s doing it on purpose,” Connie said. “But
it could be a subliminal thing, a reaction to his family pushing him to stay in
line—to get back with that Candy person whose mother went to Mount Holyoke with
his mother.”

They paused outside the door of a kitchenware shop, and Gianna’s face
took on an expression of pain. “Anne asked me if I thought it was right to have
mixed race kids.”

Connie was appalled at the audacity of Paul’s sister. “What the… What
did you say?”

Gianna looked miserable. “I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure out what to say.” Connie shook
her head in disgust. “Geez, why can’t people mind their own business?”

 “I think he’s going to get me an engagement ring for Christmas,” Gianna
said quietly. “He asked me what I thought of his sister’s emerald ring, like he
was surprised it wasn’t a diamond, but I think he was really fishing for what I
like.”

“So, you’ve talked seriously about getting married?”

“Yes.”

Connie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “You don’t think it’s too
soon?”

Gianna kept her gaze on the sidewalk. “He’s going to be thirty-three in
a few weeks. He’s sure of what he wants.”

“That’s nice, but what about you?”

“I’m sure.”

Connie tried to read Gianna’s expression.“Are you? Don’t do this
because you think he’s your only chance. Marriage is for life.”

Gianna let out a long sigh. “I love him, Connie. I really do.”

“Okay, then.” Connie reached for the handle of the door to the kitchen
store and forced a smile. “It sounds like this place may be just what you need.
Let’s go shopping.”

***

With college out of session, Connie and Greg each took the opportunity
to spend time with family members. For Greg, it meant an overnight trip to
Northampton to visit Garrett and Emily, followed by three days in Providence,
Rhode Island, where Glenn was going to culinary school at Johnson and Wales.

Connie spent the week before Christmas working in the store, Christmas shopping,
and decorating the house and tree. Christmas was on a Wednesday, and on the Friday
before, she and Angie walked to the duplex to visit their grandmother and bring
her a batch of homemade Christmas cookies. Light snow was falling when they
headed home in the early darkness, and all around them, on the outsides of
homes and businesses, colored lights blinked on, bright with Christmas spirit.

“You must feel like a child of divorced parents,” she said to Angie as
they walked, “spreading yourself between two households for Christmas.”

“I try to think of it as being doubly blessed,” Angie said with a grin.

Connie laughed. “You would.”

“Paul’s heading this way,” Angie said softly. “See him?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Connie could see Paul hurrying toward
them from the hardware store across the street. She made a point of looking
away as he approached.

“Connie, I need to talk to you,” he said, coming up on them. If he even
noticed Angie, he gave no indication.

Connie kept her eyes averted and shook her head. “There’s nothing to
say.”

“Connie, I just want to talk.” He glanced at Angie, and she gave Connie
a quick tap on the arm.

“I’m going to wait for you around the corner. Okay?” She arched her
eyebrows to say the decision was Connie’s.

Connie nodded reluctantly, and Angie walked away from them. Connie
stood still, her face turned from Paul’s, her eyes on the gaudy Christmas
lights strung along the eaves of the house on the corner.

“Con, I need you to listen to me. Just
listen
to me. Please.”

“Why?”

“Because Tony didn’t know it was you, and I’m the one who said it was
Tina.”

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. Connie turned to him in
shock.

Paul’s beautiful eyes were intent on her face, as though they could
mesmerize her into believing him; his handsome features conveyed pain-filled longing.
“Tony was looking through curtains. He couldn’t tell who was on the couch. He
just told his mother somebody was on the couch with me, and she told my
grandmother. When my nonna demanded to know who it was, I told her it was Tina.
I didn’t care what they thought of Tina. But I swear, Connie, it was you. I was
never with Tina.”

Connie stared at him. If that were true, she had pushed him away after
he had protected her. She had said nasty things to him on the phone. “How do I
know you’re telling me the truth?” Her heart overflowed with anguish.

His eyes continued to bore into hers. “You don’t. But when did I ever
lie to you?”

Connie considered the ramifications of his story. “What happened to
Tina? Did your grandmother go to her parents?”

“I don’t think so. My nonna’s not like that. The only reason she told
Mariana was because Mariana asked. I never expected it to get back to you. Not
like it did.”

Connie searched his eyes for deceit and saw only unmitigated sorrow.
She felt sick to her stomach. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say we’re okay. That we can go back and start over.”

Panic rose in her. “My parents believe you were having sex with Tina.
So does the rest of my family. They would never understand why I would go out
with you again.” She knew she was hedging on telling him the whole truth, but
she wasn’t ready to say he was out of the picture because she was in love with
Greg.

His eyes drilled into hers. “Con, we will never do that again. I
promise. I will never push you that far again. I just want to be with you. I
miss you so damn much.”

Connie shook her head. “You didn’t push me, Paul. I wanted it as much
as you did. But it’s more complicated than that.”

“I get it. But can’t you tell them something? That I’ve seen Jesus or something?
I mean, if they need a testimonial from Father Ianelli, I’ll promise on my
mother’s soul or whatever the hell I have to do.”

If the pain on his face hadn’t been so intense, Connie would have
laughed.

“Maybe they’ll let me apologize directly to them,” he said. “I’ll say
you’ve forgiven me, and I hope they will, too.”

Connie frowned at him, not believing her ears. He was offering to take
all the blame and humiliation for what they had done together. “I can’t let you
do that, Paul. I’m not going to pretend I’m innocent, and you’re not. But I’m
not ready to tell my parents the truth.”

“I don’t care what they think of me, Connie. This isn’t about them.
It’s about you and me.” He moved closer to her, his eyes intent on hers. “I
want us to be together again, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He was making her nervous, and she shook her head again. “It’s not that
simple. You know how it is. Family’s everything. I couldn’t have them thinking
you’re—”

“They already think it. What’s the difference?” His face was inches
away, his lips close enough to kiss. “Connie, please.”

She looked away from him, feeling frantic. “I can’t. Just take my word
for it: I can’t.”

Paul tilted his head ever so slightly, watching her, studying her face.
“You’re back with that guy again, aren’t you? The one you ride with.”

Connie refused to meet his eyes.

“Mr. Moneybags.”

Connie frowned at him. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not, huh?” Paul’s eyes had turned cold. “He doesn’t live on
Stratton Drive?”

“That’s where his parents live.”

He watched her for a long moment. “Don’t take this wrong. You know how
I feel about you. But he’s slumming, Connie. In the long run, he’s not going to
stay with you. Mommy and Daddy won’t like it.”

Connie’s ire rose at his characterization of Greg. “He asked me to
marry him,” she said, narrowing her eyes in anger. “He doesn’t care what Mommy
and Daddy like. We’ll both be college graduates. We’ll make it on our own.”

Paul looked dumbstruck. His cheeks went pale, and his eyes filled with disbelief.
“You said yes?”

The pace of the falling snow had increased, but now the flakes, large
and fluffy, hung motionless in mid-air, hovering around them as he stood
staring at her, waiting for an answer. She didn’t know what to say. She needed
time to absorb all that he had said. Time to think.

She searched his face, hoping to see anger that would make it easier
for her to turn away from him. But all she saw was incredible pain in his eyes as
he drew his own conclusions from her silence. He turned without another word
and briskly walked away.

Connie was stunned. She stood in the rapidly falling snow and watched
him jog across the street and disappear between two houses on the opposite side,
as though getting away from her as fast as possible was the most important
thing he could do. The multi-colored Christmas lights strung along the porch
rails of the two houses blurred through the tears that welled in her eyes. Despair
washed over her, threatening to bring her to her knees as she fought to come to
terms with what had just happened. She loved Greg. She had no doubts about
that. But she loved Paul, too.

And he had done nothing wrong that they hadn’t done together.

He was gone. She turned toward home with a sense of dread, drained and
listless, exhausted by the emotional roller coaster her life had become. As
promised, Angie was waiting around the corner, and she stepped up as Connie
approached. Her eyes were fraught with concern as she peered into Connie’s
face. “What happened? Are you okay?”