her reaction.
“Delicious. He asked me if I would do him a favor and handle the nun.”
“Why?” Jack put the spoon back into the pot.
“He says we deserve each other. She is quite a formidable lady. Sharp old gal. I like her. Has one of those faces that may not have launched a thousand ships, but she certainly is captain of whatever ship she’s on.
“But you know what I think his reason really is?” Kate kicked off her shoes.
“What?”
“I think he wants to sic the nun on us and our living arrangement. He doesn’t approve, you know.”
“He doesn’t! Hell, neither do I. Neither does my mother, speaking of formidable ladies!”
“Did your mother call again tonight?” Kate stiffened. She dreaded the phone calls from Mama Bassetti. Jack was always more insistent about marriage after one. “Marry the girl, Jackie! Irish is better thannobody. Start a family before you’re too old!” Jack never said so, but Kate was pretty sure that’s what Mama Bassetti said. And she knew, even if his mother had never called, that he wanted a family, too. She wasn’t sure just how much longer she’d be able to put him off.
Jack turned toward her. He always looked more than his six foot three when he was making a point, she thought. “Kate, why don’t you just marry me?”
Lovingly, Kate reached up and ran one hand through his curly, dark hair. She knew that would distract him. No sense having the argument again and spoiling a perfectly good dinner.
“I love you, Jack,” she whispered, running her long, slim fingers down the back of his neck. “And some day we will get married. But I’m not ready yet.”
Softly, she planted a kiss on his cleft chin, then one on each corner of his wide mouth. “Smile,” she coaxed.
Slowly, Jack’s face softened, and he grinned. Reaching behind, he turned off the gas burners on the old Wedgwood. “The hell with dinner, my love.” He poured them each a tall glass of red wine. “Dinner, we will eat later. Now, I will eat you!”
Playfully, Jack carried Kate into the old-fashioned sun porch off the kitchen. Laughing, they sank into the soft, chintz-covered couch. The Dago red on the kitchen table got warm.
Third Day
R ight after breakfast, Sister Mary Helen nabbed Eileen in the Sisters’ Residence. “What are you doing this morning?” she asked, trying to be offhand.
“The same thing I do every morning.” Eileen eyed her suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just hoping you might be able to get away for a couple of hours.”
“And what is it you have in mind?”
“I want someone to go with me to visit Leonel.”
“Oh, poor Leonel.” Eileen’s wrinkled face puckered with compassion. “He’s such a lovely young fellow. I know in my heart there must be some mistake.”
“You’ll come, then?” Mary Helen asked, as if she didn’t already know.
“Of course I’ll come. Just give me a moment to notify my office. Someone can fill in for me. The worst thing that can happen, God knows, is that a few books won’t get straightened.”
She’s almost too easy, Mary Helen thoughtaffectionately, watching Eileen, round and blue, bustle toward the nearest intercom phone.
“Meet you by the garage,” she called after her friend.
Lifting the keys off the hook by the garage door, Mary Helen automatically began to sign out on the car calendar that hung beside the hook. “S.E. and S.M.H.” She wrote their initials in the tiny square. “Eight a.m. until noon, Hall of Jus . . .” She stopped abruptly. Sister Therese was an avid car-calendar reader. No sense spending an entire lunch answering questions about Leonel. Erasing “Hall of Jus . . .” she boldly printed “OUT.”
Smart move, she congratulated herself, hearing Therese’s nervous footsteps clipping along the parquet corridor toward her.
“I’m on my way to the chapel,” Therese whispered. “Third day of my novena.” She raised three arthritic fingers.
Mary Helen winked. With two of her
“Delicious. He asked me if I would do him a favor and handle the nun.”
“Why?” Jack put the spoon back into the pot.
“He says we deserve each other. She is quite a formidable lady. Sharp old gal. I like her. Has one of those faces that may not have launched a thousand ships, but she certainly is captain of whatever ship she’s on.
“But you know what I think his reason really is?” Kate kicked off her shoes.
“What?”
“I think he wants to sic the nun on us and our living arrangement. He doesn’t approve, you know.”
“He doesn’t! Hell, neither do I. Neither does my mother, speaking of formidable ladies!”
“Did your mother call again tonight?” Kate stiffened. She dreaded the phone calls from Mama Bassetti. Jack was always more insistent about marriage after one. “Marry the girl, Jackie! Irish is better thannobody. Start a family before you’re too old!” Jack never said so, but Kate was pretty sure that’s what Mama Bassetti said. And she knew, even if his mother had never called, that he wanted a family, too. She wasn’t sure just how much longer she’d be able to put him off.
Jack turned toward her. He always looked more than his six foot three when he was making a point, she thought. “Kate, why don’t you just marry me?”
Lovingly, Kate reached up and ran one hand through his curly, dark hair. She knew that would distract him. No sense having the argument again and spoiling a perfectly good dinner.
“I love you, Jack,” she whispered, running her long, slim fingers down the back of his neck. “And some day we will get married. But I’m not ready yet.”
Softly, she planted a kiss on his cleft chin, then one on each corner of his wide mouth. “Smile,” she coaxed.
Slowly, Jack’s face softened, and he grinned. Reaching behind, he turned off the gas burners on the old Wedgwood. “The hell with dinner, my love.” He poured them each a tall glass of red wine. “Dinner, we will eat later. Now, I will eat you!”
Playfully, Jack carried Kate into the old-fashioned sun porch off the kitchen. Laughing, they sank into the soft, chintz-covered couch. The Dago red on the kitchen table got warm.
Third Day
R ight after breakfast, Sister Mary Helen nabbed Eileen in the Sisters’ Residence. “What are you doing this morning?” she asked, trying to be offhand.
“The same thing I do every morning.” Eileen eyed her suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just hoping you might be able to get away for a couple of hours.”
“And what is it you have in mind?”
“I want someone to go with me to visit Leonel.”
“Oh, poor Leonel.” Eileen’s wrinkled face puckered with compassion. “He’s such a lovely young fellow. I know in my heart there must be some mistake.”
“You’ll come, then?” Mary Helen asked, as if she didn’t already know.
“Of course I’ll come. Just give me a moment to notify my office. Someone can fill in for me. The worst thing that can happen, God knows, is that a few books won’t get straightened.”
She’s almost too easy, Mary Helen thoughtaffectionately, watching Eileen, round and blue, bustle toward the nearest intercom phone.
“Meet you by the garage,” she called after her friend.
Lifting the keys off the hook by the garage door, Mary Helen automatically began to sign out on the car calendar that hung beside the hook. “S.E. and S.M.H.” She wrote their initials in the tiny square. “Eight a.m. until noon, Hall of Jus . . .” She stopped abruptly. Sister Therese was an avid car-calendar reader. No sense spending an entire lunch answering questions about Leonel. Erasing “Hall of Jus . . .” she boldly printed “OUT.”
Smart move, she congratulated herself, hearing Therese’s nervous footsteps clipping along the parquet corridor toward her.
“I’m on my way to the chapel,” Therese whispered. “Third day of my novena.” She raised three arthritic fingers.
Mary Helen winked. With two of her
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