Hope's Angel (6 page)

 “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?”

Gianna’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 you’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.”

David
remained silent, watching her, his face unreadable.

“My
father’s not prejudiced,” Connie continued. “He’s just overly protective. He’s
worried because of the race riots.”

“Uh-huh.”
David’s jaw had set into an angry line.

His
response dismayed her. “I’m telling you the truth,” she said. “He believes
Vermont is a very racist state. Is he wrong?”

“It’s
no different than anyplace else.”

“Meaning
… it’s not that bad?”

David’s
face registered disbelief. “Do you know
anything
about Vermont history?
About the Ku Klux Klan? Or the eugenics program?”

What
was he talking about? “The Ku Klux Klan?” She frowned at him. “That’s a
southern thing.”

He
shook his head. “No, it’s not. The Klan was big here in the twenties. At one
point, they had ten thousand members in Vermont. And they didn’t just hate
blacks. They hated people like your parents—Catholic immigrants moving into
Vermont. They hated Jews. They burned crosses in Catholic cemeteries and tried
to scare people away.”

Connie
sat in stunned silence.

“Prejudice
is everywhere.” David’s expression was fierce, his eyes hard. “And if we let it
rule our lives, it wins. That’s what it wants. It creates fear and keeps people
apart, sends them back to where they came from, robs them of opportunity.”

Connie
was appalled that he would think Papa was prejudiced. “My dad was protecting
Gianna from being attacked by racists. That’s all.”

David
leaned toward her, his eyes drilling into hers. “He’s doing exactly what they
want him to do—reacting to the fear they spread.”

The
waitress appeared at Connie’s elbow and wordlessly dropped a plate of pie in
front of her, then plunked David’s plate on the table in front of him and
walked away. David peered into his half-empty coffee cup before picking up the
sandwich from his plate and taking a bite.

The
reality of what just happened made her feel sick. “You live with that all the
time, don’t you?” she asked softly.

“Yup.”

She
poked at her pie with the fork, an idea forming. Still, she dreaded how he
might answer the question she was about to ask. “If I can get my father to see
what he’s doing, would you still be interested in having Gianna come to the
museum?”

“If
she wants to.”

“I’m
pretty sure she wants to.” Connie gave him a cautious smile. “I could be wrong.
Maybe she’s talking about going into a convent because it’s what she really
wants. But if that’s true, a trip to the museum won’t change that. Right?”

David
returned her tentative smile. “Right.”

Connie
put a forkful of pie into her mouth. Her appetite had returned. “I’ll be in
touch, okay? I mean, you really want to do this, right? I’m not forcing
something or making you uncomfortable?”

David
laughed. “I can see why Gianna is as quiet as she is. I bet she has a hard time
getting a word in edgewise.”

***

All
the way home, Connie couldn’t stop thinking about him—the fluid way he moved,
the passion in his voice when he talked about the wages of prejudice, how her
heart raced when his golden-brown eyes met and held hers. She couldn’t explain
it or define it. She feared it was a form of prejudice, a factor of his being
black. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to see him without a
shirt, to feel the hardness of his body. She found herself curious about him in
a disturbingly intimate way, something she had never experienced with other men
she knew, not even Paul Cefalu. The realization that she was jealous of
Gianna’s potential relationship with him came as a surprise; it was a situation
in which she never thought she’d find herself.

Now
all she had to do was to convince her father that Gianna deserved the freedom
to find out if it was a relationship she wanted.

Angie
and Gianna were taking care of customers when Connie arrived home. Papa was
outdoors on the shady side of the building, standing on a stepladder, scraping the
peeling clapboards in preparation for a new coat of paint. Flakes of white
speckled his pale blue shop coat and rested on the brim of the gray felt workman’s
cap that protected his salt-and-pepper curls.

“Can
I talk to you?” Connie asked as she approached.

Papa
kept his eyes on his project. “Talk.”

“Do
you know about crosses being burned in Catholic cemeteries years ago?”

“My
uncles told me.”

“But
you never saw it yourself?”

“No.”

“What
did they do about it?”

He
generated a new shower of white flakes. “What did they do? Nothing.”

“But
they didn’t leave.”

“We
are still here.”

“So,
the Italians and the Catholics didn’t let them win,” Connie said firmly. “They
stood up for their right to do what they want to do and live where they want.”

Papa
gave her a sideways glance. “You talk about this in school?”

Connie
snorted. “No, they don’t tell us stuff like this in school. I learned about it
from David Thomas, Gianna’s friend. The man you said she couldn’t see because some
people might not like it.”

She
paused to let her words sink in. Her father said nothing as he continued to
scrape at the wood siding.

“You
know, you’re doing exactly what the prejudiced people want,” Connie said.

“What
is that?”

“Letting
them bully you into keeping Gianna and David apart.”

“That’s
what this David told you?”

“Is
he wrong?”

Papa
rested his scraper on the top of the stepladder and looked down at her. Connie
searched his face for signs of anger but found only concern. “What does he
want?” he asked. “Gianna has made her decision.”

“He
doesn’t want anything. I’m the one who called him. He respects Gianna’s
decision, but
I
think she’s doing it for the wrong reason.”

“Because
I tell her she can’t see him?” Papa seemed genuinely confused. “If this is so,
why doesn’t she tell me?”

Connie
gave him a small smile. “She’s not going to argue with you, Papa. That’s not in
her nature.”

“Aha,
but it is in yours.”

Connie
felt her cheeks warm as she looked away from him. “I don’t want Gianna to make
such an important decision without being sure.”

“And
to see this man will make her sure?”

“She
won’t wonder for the rest of her life if he might have been the right one.”

Papa
paused, then said, “You think he can be the right one?”

“I
think he’s a good person. And I think he’d be good to her. The rest I can’t
say.”

“You
don’t care that he’s not white?”

Connie
smiled at him. “Papa, our part of Italy’s not that far from Africa.”

Papa
stared at her for a long moment, his face solemn, his brown eyes unreadable.
Then he turned back to the wall, picked up the scraper, and began vigorously attacking
the flakes of peeling paint. “Your sisters have been working all day while you
go wherever you go. Maybe they would like a break.”