Authors: LYNN BOHART
“What time do you think you’ll be back tonight?”
“I don’t know,” he replied,
diverting his attention to his breakfast
.
He lathered butter onto the pancakes.
“Late.
Rocky’s picking me up in a few minutes.
He’s still on medi
cal leave and offered to help.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea
– I
mean, having him work on this case?”
“Yeah,” he replied with a mouthful of pancakes.
“I think he needs some focus
. A
nd frankly,
we
could use the help.”
She rinsed off dishes in the sink while he devoured his breakfast.
Finally, she turned to him.
“Joe, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Aren’t you going to church?
”
“Yes, of course.
I teach the little children today
,
and Marie sings in the choir.”
“Oh,” he look
ed up with a frown. “I forgot.”
“It’s all right,” she said quietly.
“She’ll understand.”
“I’ll bring her a surprise tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that, Joe.
She understands.”
He bent to take another mouthful of food.
“She sings like an angel,” he slurred through pancakes and saliva.
“I should be there.”
He continued to eat as if food would blot out the disappointment he felt.
Angie came and sat across the table from him, her hands folded in front of her.
“It’s me who needs your attention right now, Joe.
Not Marie.”
“Can’t it wait?
We could talk tonight.”
He wiped syrup off his chin and grabbed a slice of bacon.
She watche
d him with a pained expression.
“It can
’t wait much longer.”
Her eyes blinked several times
,
and he recognized the oncoming tears
. He swallowed
quickly.
“What is it Angie?
What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,
at least
not according to God’s plan.”
“What do you mean?
What’s according to God’s plan?”
Her eyes glistened
,
and he felt the pancakes
turn to cement in his stomach.
“What are you talking about, Angie?”
She paused before answering.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
Whatever he thought his wife was going to say, it wasn’t that.
He sat for a moment, staring at her, all thought of pancakes
and murder investigations gone.
“I thought we agreed not to have any more children.
Two was what we said.”
“I know, but I’m pregnant.”
“But how?
I mean, we took precautions
. D
idn’t we?
Didn’t you?”
He gra
sped his fork like a
fourteenth c
entury warlord, a wad of pancake dripping syrup all over the table.
“Precautions are never one hundred percent accurate, Joe.
You can’t control everything.
God makes his own decisions.
We’
re going to have another baby.”
He knew what she expected from
him
−
e
xpressions of joy.
But he didn’t feel joy.
He felt trapped.
He dropped his fork and forced his chair back and stood up.
He had to think, process.
He
moved to the kitchen window and
looked out at the neighbor’s garage, irritated the m
an never took in
his trashcans.
“How long have you known?”
When she didn’t answer, he turned.
“How long have you
known, Angie?”
She barely whispered.
“About four weeks
.”
“Dammit, Angie!
What do you mean four weeks?
Why didn’t you tell me?
How could you keep something like that from me for a whole month?”
He circled the table once while she began to cry.
“Christ.
I can’t believe it!
”
She shrank into the chair and he realized how miserable she was.
He hesitated, confused.
Finally, he went to her.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Angie?” he said more softly.
“I’m your husband.
You should’ve told me. You should’ve been more careful.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face.
“I was careful, Giorgio, but I prayed for this child.
I wanted another baby.
I knew you didn’t, but I did.
When the doctor told me I was pregnant, I was happy.
I was afraid if I told you, it would ruin your concentration.
So, I thought I’d wait until the play was over.
I’m sorry, Giorgio.”
He watched her, this woman he loved, filled with a mixture of anger and fear.
He’d acted like an idiot, and he had to make it right. He reached out a hand to comfort her, but j
us
t then a horn blared out front.
“Shit!
It’s Rocky.
I’ve got to go.
We’ll talk about this tonight.
Okay?”
He kissed the top of her head.
“Okay?”
He moved towards the door as she lifted a napkin to wipe her eyes.
She avoided looking at
him and
got up to take his plate to the sink.
He knew better than to push it and so grabbed his leather coat and went out to meet his brother.
Rocky sat with his head resting on the seat cushion, his eyes closed.
Giorgio slid into the seat and slammed the door, waking him with a start.
“Hey!
Have some respect.
I’m doing you a favor.”
“I know.
Let’s go.”
Rocky looked at his big brother.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.
Let’s go.”
Rocky yawned and stretched the muscles in his face before starting the engine.
“So
, what’s the order of the day?”
“Have trouble getting to sleep last night?”
Rocky shot him a reproachful look.
“We did work until three in the morning, in case you forgot.”
Rocky turned back to the road
,
and Giorgio decided to ignore it.
“I want to interview the woman who organized the dinner.
We need to find out if anyone came in late.
We also need to talk with each of the people who spent any time with the victim
,
and I want to know everything Mallery Olsen said while she was there.”
Rocky turned to look at him.
“That’s a tall order.
Who else is helping?”
“Swan and two others.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Rocky finally spoke when they pulled
through the monastery gates.
“Maybe she didn’t like it as much as I thought.”
“What?” Giorgio’s thoughts w
ere pulled back to the present.
“
T
he play.”
The truck climbed the hill and Giorgio sighed, r
ubbing a hand through his hair.
“That’s not it.
Angie’
s pregnant.”
“Whoa.
I thought you said you were going to stop at two.”
“We did, but I guess
…
we didn’t.
Something went wrong.
It happens.”
“So, Angie’s upset about it?”
“She is now.
Instead of being the caring, understanding husband I am, I blew up.”
Rocky parked in the west parkin
g lot along with two news vans.
“Like I said, Angie’s upset.”
“I think that’s putting it mildly.”
Giorgio sighed deeply.
“God, three kids on a detective’s salary.
It’s tight now.
I want good things for Angie.
For the kids.
I don’t want to have to scrape all my life.”
“
Angie could go back to teaching.
”
Giorgio gave his brother a cold look.
“I don’t want Angie to have to work!”
“Jesus, Jo Jo.
You can’t control everything.
This is the twenty-first century.
Women work.
What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I don’t want her to
have
to work,” he emphasized.
“And I’m not trying to control everything!”
“She loved teaching,” Rocky argued.
“She wouldn’t mind.”
“Look, I’d support anything Angie really wanted to do, but she doesn’t really want to work.
She wants to stay home with the kids.
It’s all about kids with Angie.
Besides, this isn’t what we planned!”
Giorgio turned back in his seat, hoping to let his anger cool.
When he saw the same young female reporter and cameraman approaching, he got out and strode right past her.
She spun around after him, but he ignored her pleas for a statement
. He
would have knocked over a second reporter if the pudgy guy hadn’t moved aside.
The media frenzy had begun.
Giorgio entered the monastery ordering a patrolman to keep anyone but police personnel out.
Inside, the monastery was cool and quiet
,
and he paused a moment to take a deep breath.
A couple dressed in casual clothes chatted in the lobby, their luggage by their side.
The power had been restored sometime during the night and Giorgio peeked through the gift shop window.
A man in a tweed jacket and turtleneck browsed through a bookcase along one wall.
Giorgio opened the door and stepped inside.
A woman appeared from an alcove beh
ind the counter smiling at him.