path: root/06-SummertimeandtheLivinisEasy.rst

Episode 3.06, Summertime, and the Livin' is Easy
------------------------------------------------

The band of clouds to the west faded from their red glory of a half
hour ago. A patch of sky above them was an achingly clear blue, with
two stars. Joan sat in the Adirondack chair, a lemonade and stack of
books at her side. A large book was open on her lap, but she was
watching the evening stars.

Kevin rolled out onto the patio, with Lilly. "Where's everybody?"
"Dad's working late. Mom is around somewhere. So is Luke."
"That's helpful."
Lilly eyed Joan and the book: "A hot Friday date with Summa
Theologica. Been there."
Kevin interjected "We're going for some ice cream and hanging out.
Tell Mom and Dad I'll be back whenever."
"Sure. Have fun!"
As they turned to go, Lilly added "If you start fantasizing about
Thomas Aquinas, give me a call. 'Lilly's Hot Line for Recovering
Sisters,' call day or night."
"Thanks for the warning. See you."

Joan turned back to her book for a moment, then looked at the evening
star again; the blue had deepened, and the star burned with white
brilliance. Luke bounded through the door. "Where's everybody?"
"Dad's working late, Mom is somewhere. As I just told Kevin. He and
Lilly just left. I'm invisible."
"Oooooh.... look at Venus. And Jupiter. They are wonderful tonight."
Luke gazed at the sky. "They are getting closer together every night.
Did you know that by the end of the month they are only going to have
2 degrees of separation?"
"Thank you for that priceless bit of information."
"You're welcome. Anytime."
After a moment Joan said, "Ummm, Luke... how 'bout a game of chess?
If you're not busy or something."
"That is pathetic. My sister. Friday night, and her idea of a hot
time is playing chess with her kid brother."
"Gee thanks."
"Grace and I are going to hang out. I'm headed over there now."
"Oh."
"Uh.... Joan. You want to come along?"
"And be the third wheel? No. That would be even more pathetic. But
thanks for asking."
"Another time on that chess game." Luke came over and kissed Joan on
the forehead.
"Bye. Be a good girl."
"Like I have a chance to be anything else. Say hi to Grace, and
remind her of the crab boil tomorrow."

Joan was left to marvel at Luke actually showing some affection. That
was frighteningly un-Luke. Was she becoming everyone's favorite
object of pity? She stretched, wincing a little: she was still stiff
and sore from the accident, and a long afternoon at the bookstore.
She was still tired all the time. It felt good to sit out in the warm
evening.

She returned to Aquinas. Before she had gotten through a page, Helen
came out. "Where's everybody?"
Joan rolled her eyes. "This is a recording: Dad is working late,
Kevin went for ice cream with Lilly, Luke is hanging out with Grace,
and I'm having the exciting social life I dreamed of as a little
girl."
"Want some company? I brought one of my books out to read until it
gets dark."
"Sure."
Helen sat in the other chair. They read in companionable silence for
a long while, Joan sipping her lemonade. Helen had an iced tea. The
evening breeze was soft, a silken pleasure after the hot afternoon.
It grew dark; the fireflies were out, and cicadas buzzed in the
trees. It was getting too dark to read. Helen laid her book in her
lap: "Joan?"
She looked up. "Umm?"
"I've been wondering. You don't have to say, but.... what happened?"
"What happened to what?"
"You and Adam."
"Oh."
"Things were going along, you all were getting really serious, and
all of sudden, boom. You clean your room like you're planning to
serve dinner on the floor, you rip up his pictures and box up
everything he ever gave you and out it goes, you dig him out of your
life like poison ivy, you take up knitting. And you never really said
why. You're sort of talking to him again, and you went on that trip
with the Polonsky's with him, but it is Over. No more flowers and
bunnies."
"It's personal. Very."
"OK. Sorry I asked."
After a moment, "Adam had sex with Bonnie."
"Oh. Oh my."
"It sucks. It really, totally sucks. I trusted him."
"Do you think that all night thing was part of it?"
"Yeah. Maybe if I'd done it with him, we'd still be all right. But it
just felt wrong."
"You did the right thing, Joan."
"If it was the right thing, why is everything screwed up now? No, I
am NOT going to cry. It is over."
Helen thought for a moment. "Adam introduced Bonnie to me, brought
her to me so I could help her. I saw them work together; it looked to
me like they were just friends."
"Yeah, right."
"Really. It was like Luke and Friedman get. They were two art geeks
off in their own world. I didn't see anything romantic going on. They
are my students, but I would have told you if I'd sensed anything."
"He claimed he was working on some project; that was why he couldn't
spend any time with me."
"That part was real. He had some things he was doing for Michael, and
after that was done.... did you see the mural under the overpass on
32nd Street? It was only there for a few days before they painted it
over."
"Yeah, once. It was good. Kind of twisted and scary."
"Adam and Bonnie."
"They did that?"
"Yes. Her idea mostly. She needed help to get it done before the city
painted it over again. That's why she keeps getting community
service; she likes to do 'guerrilla art.' Adam took pictures of it,
and showed me."

After a long silence, Helen said, "Joan, I'm going to tell you
something."
"Mom, I don't need advice. I'm surviving."
"No, it's not that. This is... it is probably something I shouldn't
be telling you. It's about your father and me."
Joan looked up in the darkness, horror in her eyes.
"Mom, please don't tell me you're cheating on him."
Helen laughed, shaking her head. "No. Remember Lucy Preston? She was
Will's boss, until she got promoted to the Justice Department in DC."
"Yes. Kind of a businesslike lady."
"She was making moves on Will."
"Oh God."
"They worked together. They enjoyed each other's company, at least at
first. They ate lunch together. They worked late together. She wanted
more. She set up that award thing for you at the school. And, umm...
she did something that she thought would please Will, something big
on a murder case, but it was very unethical, and she handed it on a
silver platter to him. She expected a lot in return."
"Did Dad...."
"No. He was suspicious and dug into it. Once he figured out what
happened, he was disgusted with her for being a bad cop, but he was
stuck; he had to work for her, and I think she was using her position
to lean on him. I didn't know all this, but I knew something was
wrong. There were lots of late nights at work, a lot more than there
needed to be. He said afterwards that he would never cheat on me, and
I believe him. But... I think it could have gone the other way, if
things had been just a little different."
"Mom! What did you do?"
"I cried a lot. When I started sensing what was going on, I would cry
myself to sleep every night he was out, wishing he would just come
home. That empty bed was an agony."
"I'm so.... sorry. You could have told me."
"No, I couldn't. You are my daughter, and that is one cross you did
not need to carry. You just don't tell your children something like
that. It is like things going on in your life -- do you always rush
right home and tell me everything?"
"No, of course not."
"Joan, I'm on very thin ice here. My hunch -- call it a feeling -- is
that in a way, Adam and Bonnie were the same sort of thing. They were
working together, and things just happened, and he didn't know how to
deal with it."
"That's what he claimed. But this kind of thing doesn't 'just
happen.' He said he loved me."
"I am absolutely convinced of one thing about Adam Rove. He loves
you."
"Then why did he do it?"
"He messed up. Badly. But 'let him who is without sin cast the first
stone.'"
"You want me to make up with him?"
"I can't tell you what to do. You do what you want anyway, whether I
tell you or not."
"He hurt me. Mom, he really hurt me. I don't think I'll ever get over
it, not entirely."
"You won't. Some scars are there for life, and this is one of them.
Come here; let me hug you."
They stood up and hugged. Joan started to cry, Helen too.
"I said I wasn't going to cry," Joan said, smiling a bit.
"I won't hold you to that."
"What do I do now? I'm so lonely."
"Joan, I don't know. Just let it sit. See how you feel about him in a
few months."

Will leaned back in his chair. It had been a long day, and there
would be many more during the transition period. "Chief of Police:
Will Girardi," the sign said on the door. He had wanted to wait until
it was official, but the guys in the department insisted. Carlisle
and Williams had to physically push him through the door: "Girardi,
this is YOUR office. Like it or not. You've belonged here all along."
Arcadia was getting a fresh start, and they had to get it right. This
department had forfeited the trust of the community, and they were
going to have to prove themselves.

Toni Williams walked through the door with a file. "You should go
home. It's Friday night, for crying out loud."
"Looks like you're still here, too."
"Yeah. I guess we're gluttons for punishment."
"What'cha got?"
"Good news for once. This is Daghlian's file from Connorsburg." She
read from one page: "'a first-rate officer, hard-working and honest
to the core. He has my highest recommendation.' So he's really coming
back here?"
She handed the file to Will; he leafed through it, nodding his head
and smiling. "Yeah. I'll call him now."

"Daghlian."
"Mike, this is Girardi. You're hired."
"That's great! I guess the files got there and looked OK."
"Yeah. They like you up there in Connorsburg."
"It's been good here. But Arcadia is where I belong."
"So when can you make the move?"
"I'll have to give thirty days' notice; I'll turn it in on Monday."
"Let's see... this is August 12, so how about Monday the 15th of next
month?"
"That works. And... Will, thanks for giving me another chance. You
taught me a big lesson."
"Yeah. The school of hard knocks is a first-rate teacher. We've both
been there now."
"While you're on the line, I talked with Carlisle about that paint
and we may have something. A cashier at one of the marine outfitters
here says she distinctly remembers selling the pink paint, and the
other colors. She says they almost never sell any pink; that's why
she remembers it."
"Got an ID on it?"
"Nope. The guy paid cash. But Carlisle is sending up a photo of
someone he says might be a suspect. We'll mix it in with some other
pictures and see if the cashier can pick him out."
"Thanks. Let us know what you get. Oh, and Daghlian -- It'll be great
to have you back."
-------------------
The morning sun streamed through the window as Joan sat crosslegged
on her bed. She hesitated a long time, holding the phone, then slowly
pushed the button.

Adam's voice: "Hello."
"Hi."
"Ja... uh, Joan."
"Yeah."
"Umm... hi."
"We're having crabs this afternoon. You want to come over?"
Long silence.
"Joan, do you really want me there?"
"You're sort of.... kind of part of the family here, and this is a
family thing."
"You're sure about this?"
"Yes. It's not like you haven't eaten with us before."
"I'll be there. Thanks..... thank you."
"Bring your dad. I think he'd enjoy it."
"Sure. He loves crab. I do too. Tell you what, we'll bring some
coleslaw."
"Adam."
"Yeah?"
"I'm still mad at you."
"Unchallenged."
"See you later."
"Bye."

Joan came through the kitchen, headed for the door. "I'm going to the
park for a while. I need some time to think," she said in the general
direction of Will and Helen, who were sitting at the table. "Oh, and
Adam and his dad are coming, They're bringing coleslaw."
"Don't be long; there's a lot of setting up to do," Will said.
"OK Dad. Bye."

After she had gone, Helen said, "Honey, do you think we have enough
for everyone? Adam and his father make two more."
"I've ordered a lot of crabs. Roebuck is coming, and bringing extra
ice and drinks."
"I was thinking of this as a little family picnic. I didn't think
you'd be inviting people from work."
"Helen, guys like Roebuck -- he is like family to me. You know that."
"Well, just so long as you don't start talking shop."
"We'll be good. I promise."
Helen smiled and said, "I guess it's all right then that I invited
Father Ken to drop by after 5:00 Mass."
Will laughed: "Fair warning. If you all start talking religion, I'll
ask Roebuck how the arson investigation is going."
Helen said, "I still wonder if we should have invited the
Goetzmanns."
"Weren't you the one that was just saying this is 'a little family
picnic?' They are nice people and we'll have them over sometime soon.
But not today; this is for us. Did you ask Sarah and Jakob?"
"No. I figured they'd be busy, being Saturday. Grace is coming,
though."
-----------------
Joan ambled along the sidewalk in the park. People were walking dogs,
rollerblading, enjoying the fine sunny day. Children were on the
swings, sweeping through the air. Four girls were preparing to jump
rope. Joan hesitated, tempted to join them: no, these were little
girls, maybe ten or eleven, and they didn't need a seventeen-year-old
butting in. Her left knee twinged, reminding her that she wasn't up
to it, anyway. "I'm turning into a regular old maid," she thought.
The rope-jumping made her think of Casper, the homeless girl she had
tried to help. "That seems like so long ago now. I wonder what ever
happened to her: I hope she is all right."

She had grown accustomed to hanging out with Adam: too accustomed.
Maybe it was good that they had split up. "We were starting to act
like a married couple that's gotten bored with each other. I need to
remember how to have a good time by myself. I don't need him. I don't
need anyone."

Just then, a harsh guitar twang sounded from Joan's right. A man
began singing
"End this war
Look upon your friends
Don't you know the reason why
You called us back again."
Joan rolled her eyes, and walked up to the singer, a young man with
dreadlocks. "You are butchering the song. Please!"
He smiled at Joan and continued singing:
"Night is long and getting longer
There's darkness from above"
Joan joined him, his singing a crazed counterpoint to her melody:
"And hate is strong but love is stronger
We are alive as long as we love."
She gently pried the guitar from his hands.
"Spare me. It's a nice song; can't you at least sing it in tune?"
"Ya. Me jester dis way: "For every moon must have its shadow..."
Joan put her hand over his mouth, muffling the last words. "God,
you're embarrassing me."
A jogger came by, turning and looking at them. Joan smiled awkwardly
and waved; God said "Ev'rything cook and curry, mon."
"OK. OK. Just.... don't sing any more. Please?"
God smiled. He sat on the bench and began putting his guitar in its
case, motioning for Joan to join him on the bench.
"You forget dat song, na true?"
"How could I?" Joan answered, shaking her head. "'Queen of the
Zombies.' My moment of stardom. What a disaster!"
"Sweet disaster, shorty. It make good ripples."
"Let me guess. You are going to pick on me about Adam, aren't you."
"We are alive as long as we love..." God sang softly, perfectly in
tune.
Joan smiled, surprised at the accurate singing. "I've got another
song for you." She sang "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my
hair..."
"Not working, no?" God said with a smile.
"No."
"Me tell you how me handle forgiveness. When you hurt me and you
sorry about it and change yourself and do it no more, me forgive you.
What you done be gone, 'as far as east be from west.'"
"We're not talking about you. I'm the one he hurt, not you."
"Adam hurt you. Adam hurt Bonnie. He hurt me, he hurt himself, too.
Me was dere. Every pain, every sufferation hurt me; I connected to
all of you. If me forgive, you can forgive."
"But that's hard to do."
"Jah know. Me have da scars."
Joan thought for a moment. "So you're like Mom; you want me to get
back together with him."
"Me no say dat, your mother no say dat. Me say dis: let it go. Adam
and Grace be your best friends. You need dem both, plus your other
friends and your family, and me. When the hard times will come, we
stand by you."
"Hard times. I don't like the sound of that."
"Joan my friend, ease up: Today be good. Enjoy da bashment at your
house today. Enjoy all your friends and family for who dey be.
Cherish dis day; such days be rare."
God stood, and began walking away. "Run a boat, sister," he said,
giving Joan an over-the-shoulder wave.

Kevin and Will were putting layers of newspaper on the assortment of
card tables in the back yard. "Kev, are there liners in the trash
cans yet?"
"Yeah. I did that a little while ago. I brought out the paper towels
too, the whole 12-roll package. And the pliers from the shop."
"Crabs are messy, but they sure are good."
"Right about that," Kevin answered. "I'm glad Joan is with us this
year. It was kind of a shame to do this last summer with her off at
Gentle Acres."
"Yeah. That put a damper on the whole summer for all of us."
"You know, she is my weird little sister and she drives me bonkers
sometimes. But last summer taught me a lesson. God, I missed her."
"Didn't we all. Looking back, I wish Helen and I hadn't sent her to
that place. We thought it would help, you know, after the Lyme
disease. I think it hurt more than it helped."
"You still have your lamp?"
"Both of them."
"Me too. Oh, by the way; I've been meaning to tell you. I found out
about Mr. Hunter's money."
"Yeah? What did you turn up?"
"Well, he has a lot of it. Mostly, it is from dot-coms in the 90's. I
found a little article in Barron's back in 2001 -- 'Ten Young
Investors to Watch,' and there he was, number two. Seems he played
around with day trading when he was in high school, got together
about 50 grand, and put it all on a tech IPO. It returned sixty-fold
in about three months, and he sold just before it tanked. That made
him a millionaire before he was eighteen. He turned right around and
sank all of that into another IPO, and that one went forty-fold. He
sold that one in January 2000, just before NASDAQ crashed, and put it
all in long-term government bonds -- right as interest rates peaked.
Now he's a player in the oil futures market; his name shows up in
Petroleum Monthly now and then, and he's still making the right moves
at the right time. He has an uncanny sense for what is going on. The
guy's a genius!"
"Or very lucky."
"Yeah. One thing gets me, though."
"What?"
"Why is he so interested in Arcadia? He doesn't even live here. The
article said he lives on some rural acreage west of Millersville. I
checked it out, and that's still where he lives; an old farm house on
a couple hundred acres. Hey, there's Lilly."
"Thanks, Kev. That is a big help; hey, run printouts of what you have
if you don't mind."
"Yeah. Will do."
Will finished spreading the newspapers, muttering to himself.
"Millersville... There has got to be something solid..."
-----------------
"There you are, Joan," Helen said, as Joan came out into the yard.
"You want to help me with this cooler?"
"Yeah. Where do you want it?"
"Right over there by the maple tree. Then we need to bring out the
butter and lemon juice, and the Old Bay Spice -- Will dug it out from
the back of the cabinet, and it is on the counter by the stove. He
and Roebuck will be back any minute with the crabs."

Luke and Grace were heating a blue graniteware pot of water on the
grille.
Grace said, "Is this thing never going to boil?"
"Patience. You know how many BTU's it takes to boil a gallon of
water? And this is a 33-qt. canner; we've probably got what, six or
seven gallons in here?"
"Where did you come up with this?"
"It was grandma's canning pot, for boiling-water bath processing. You
know, pickles, that sort of thing."
"Yeah. Grandma Polk used to do that too. Kosher dills to die for."
"Oh, there's Adam and his dad."

Adam carried a huge dish covered with foil, and set it on one of the
tables, as Mr. Rove followed. Helen came over to greet them. "Carl,
it is good to see you. I'm so glad you all could come."
"It was good of Joan to invite us. Adam and I brought a little slaw;
it goes great with crab."
"A little? You must have been shredding cabbage all morning."
Adam laughed: "Unchallenged. It was fun."
Joan came over: "Hi."
"Hi."
"I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
Just then, Will and Roebuck came out, carrying a large washtub.
"Ta-da! Here they are!" Will said, as they set the tub by the grill
in the shade.
Joan and Adam went over and looked inside:
"Oh my God!!!" Joan said.
"What?" Adam answered, grinning.
"They're still alive!"
"Cha. You'd better hope so; you can't eat them if they're dead before
you cook them. You've never had crab?"
"Well, yes. At a restaurant. We always go to a crab house when we go
to Baltimore, or down on the eastern shore. But they're already
cooked."
-------------------
"Joan, would you say grace?" Helen asked, once they had more-or-less
assembled around the tables. Joan felt self-conscious with everyone
looking at her. Grace looked like she was thinking about the "half of
a red pill" and wondering when the other half would come. Luke looked
like he was thinking "Well, say something. And not in French." Adam:
"This girl is a mystery to me. But I love her anyway." The silence
was becoming embarrassing. She might as well pretend that she was
talking with God like she always did when she saw Her, and just say
what she was thinking. "God, thank you for the food, even if it is,
umm... still moving." That drew a giggle from Grace. "Thank you for
my mom and dad, and my brothers." Looking around her, she said "Thank
you for all the people here; thank you for bringing us together."
Catching Adam's eye, "Thank you for love, and for putting up with us,
no matter what." Smiling now, "Thank you for today. Amen."
------------------
Luke and Grace sat down across from Joan. Grace said, "How're you
feeling? You're still sort of gimpy when you walk around. Not that
totaling a car and spilling blood all over your mom could have
anything to do with it."
"I'm doing better," Joan said. "I tried my yoga stretches a few days
ago and I still have aches in places I didn't know I had. But I think
the yoga will help."
"Well, you're alive, and not too much worse for the wear."
Joan smiled, and hummed, half to herself, "We are alive as long as we
love..."
To Grace she said, "Yeah. It's good."
Grace asked, "So what's with the yoga, anyway? Is this another one of
your weird hobbies? Let's see... chess, boatbuilding, band, piano
lessons, yearbook staff, the diving team, knitting, drama queen...
And not to forget, cheerleading."
"Please. I'd like to forget that one."
Grace smiled, remembering. "You know, that day when you did the
tryouts? That was when I knew you were an OK person. Strange, but
OK."
"Gee thanks."
"So now it's yoga? At least you've stuck with it longer than some of
the other stuff."
"You should try it, Grace. It puts you into some kind of flow with
the universe; very spiritual. And it feels good."
Luke said, "Now you're sounding like Aunt Olive."
Ignoring him, Joan said, "Yeah. The accident kind of put it on hold,
but I'm going to be starting classes on Wednesday. That is, if I'm
not in another car wreck between now and then."
-------------------------
Luke was showing Grace how to dissect the crab: "Once you've done the
legs, you pull this little tab on the carapace."
"Kind of like a soda can,"
Luke said, "So you've really never had crab before?"
"It's a regular item in all Jewish households," Grace said. "We keep
it around for when we want something that totally breaks every Kosher
rule in the book. Get a brain, Lukey."
Ignoring the last, Luke said "Then you take out the gills and
intestines, here, and the other internal organs, and the meat is
underneath. But see this? That's the tomalley, or the liver. If you
don't want it, give it to me; it is the best part."
"What's this orange stuff?"
"That's the roe; that's good, too. Just the females have it. Some
people like the female crabs better, in general."
Grace said, "Why do I think this conversation is about to go way
downhill?"

Lilly came over and sat by Helen. "This is great. It is good to see
everyone so happy."
"Yes. It is a good day."
Looking over at Joan, Lilly asked "How is she doing? Is she getting
over the accident all right? And how about you?"
Helen said "Oh, I'm fine. I was hardly hurt at all. Joan is too,
basically. She still says she is never going to drive again; we
haven't crossed that bridge."
"Yeah. She's going to have to get back on the horse."
"We haven't pushed it. Yet. At least she's OK, thank God. But -- I've
been meaning to ask you about something. I have vague pieces of
memory about what happened, the windshield crashing and bricks
falling in front of us and the car flipping over and Joan screaming.
And... here's the point: I am sure that I was hurt. I remember
thinking 'I am going to die,' just before I lost consciousness. But
when I woke up later, it was as if there was... I don't know... it
was like a warmth, like being at the beach in the sun or something,
washing over me, and I could feel that it was coming from Joan, from
her hand where she was touching me. And I was fine. They checked me
out at the hospital: no injuries. None. And instead, it was Joan who
ended up in ICU. But I have a fragment of memory that it was me that
was bleeding, not Joan. And other fragments, like there were people
outside the car trying to get in. I sort of remember one of them
saying 'This looks bad. We've got to hurry,' and someone else saying
'There's no way they survived that.' So here we are; me without a
scratch, and Joan not hurt much, nothing really serious. Lilly, we
were on the interstate, going 65. We flipped over. We should have
both died. Are we talking miracle here?"
"You're asking the wrong gal. No. Stop looking at me that way."
Helen continued looking at Lilly.
"Well, OK. There's your charism... when you start talking about that
sort of thing... Well, miracle is a strong word. But it might not be
too strong." Lilly looked over at Joan, who was laughing at something
Adam had said. "I wonder about Joan, too. I've felt for some time
that she must have some sort of spiritual gift. There is something
uncanny about her, Helen. Not in a bad or spooky way, not in the
least; it is almost like the old paintings, with the halos over the
saints. They didn't know any other way to represent what was
different about these people. And Joan is like that. Maybe."
"Joan, a saint?" Helen shook her head, smiling. "Lilly, you know
better. She is a teenager. Come by some morning when we're trying to
get them to eat breakfast and out the door for school. Or when she
and Luke are snapping at each other. Or... let's just say she's been
grounded a lot this last year. More grounded than not since about
March or so. For good reasons."
Lilly grinned, "Yeah. I know. But still... people get the wrong idea
about the saints. They aren't these holy people dressed up in
bathrobes like you see in the stained glass windows. Nor are they
people with some kind of weird 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' powers. No,
it is like they are more 'normal' than the rest of us, more
'natural,' like a tree or a sunset -- more true to their nature, to
what God intends for them, if that makes sense. I see that in Joan.
Not all the time, no. But sometimes."
Helen shook her head again. "No. No way."
"Think about it," Lilly said. "All the times she's done these oddball
things, and somehow they have turned out right. More than right; like
they have been healings for people, for situations. Maybe I'm wrong.
It's just a feeling, nothing I can put my finger on. But I think
there's something going on with that girl. Helen, saints do miracles.
That is part of the definition. No, that's not quite it: saints are
channels through whom miracles happen; it is God who does the
miracles. I am so jealous. Here I was, doing the nun thing all those
years and nothing happened. And here you and your daughter are with
charisms I would have died for."
Helen said, "I need a promise from you."
"Yeah. What?"
"Don't you dare tell Joan. She is insufferable enough already."
----------------------
Will, Carl Rove, and Roebuck were at the grill, boiling the crabs.
Will said "Roebuck, you're an O's fan. You think they'll break .500?"
"No. Not a chance. This has been the year from hell. Injuries, the
whole bit. Sixty-two days in first place, then lose 16 out of 18 and
no more Mazzili. He was a class act, I tell you. Deserved better."
Carl said, "Aw, c'mon: they're just what, nine and a half back?"
"Yeah, and in next to last place with a new manager."
"Maybe Perlozzo will turn things around."
Roebuck shook his head. "It'll take more than a new boss. Everyone is
looking over their shoulder, thinking they might be the next after
Palmeiro. Probably half the team is on steroids; Raffy's the one they
caught."
Carl said, "I bet they're not doing the steroids any more. They see
the league means business."
Will said, "Ten-day suspension? They should have axed him for the
season. Maybe for life."
Kevin had rolled over during the conversation. He said "Wait a
minute. Here everyone is, ready to hang the guy. Like Mr. Roebuck
says, half the team is probably doing it. More like half of the
people in baseball. And three-quarters in the NFL."
Will said, "Kev, steroids are against the law. Are you defending
them?"
"No. But what's a guy to do? Remember the district football
championship my junior year, against South Park? Remember those big
linemen they had? Word was, every one of them was juicing. And they
are probably all playing Division One ball now. What was the score
that day?"
"Don't remind me. 46-14."
"Yeah. They killed us. So if you're a kid, and you see that
happening, and all you want in life is to play ball, what are you
going to do? This is America; if you aren't number one, you're
nothing."
"You were good, and you weren't using steroids."
"I was lucky. All of the coaches at the school had agreed on a
zero-tolerance policy; if you were caught, you were out. Period.
Besides, you would have locked me up and thrown away the key."
"Right about that," Will said.
"And I was good; I was able to be clean and still make it. What about
the guys that are on the borderline; if they don't get that boost,
they won't make the team, and they know it? I'm just saying don't
blame Palmeiro when it is everywhere."
Roebuck said, "Kevin, do you think the fans will forgive him?"
"Yeah. Mark my words: they'll boo him for a game or two, but as soon
as he gets a couple big hits, all will be forgiven. We shouldn't be
blaming the players; we should be blaming the fans. 'Winning is
everything.' The fans don't really care about the steroids, or what
the players are doing to themselves by taking them. And there they
will be, booing the guy for using a drug when half of them are up in
the stands drunk as skunks. Which is worse, doing the steroids or
DUI-ing after the game? You aren't going to kill people or turn them
into gimps with a bottle of steroids. Hypocrites. Don't go blaming
someone until you've looked in the mirror."
Carl said, "Well, right or wrong, I'm afraid Raffy's going to pay the
price. His rep will never be the same, and it might keep him out of
the Hall of Fame. Congressional hearing. Yikes! Why can't they just
play baseball?"
Roebuck said, "Where's Cal Ripken when we need him?"
Carl said, "Yeah. Things were a lot better in those days. I loved it
when they had him and Cal Sr. and Billy. It was a special time."
Roebuck said, "Senior was another guy they didn't give enough time in
the driver's seat. Great baseball man, through and through..."
Will said "Hey, there's the padre."

Father Ken was carrying a two-gallon tub of ice cream. Helen said,

"I'm so glad you could make it."

"I love crab feasts. Nothing like it. Thanks for inviting me."

"Here, I'll stick the ice cream in the freezer until after while.
Still some crabs left. There's coleslaw over there, and drinks in the
cooler, and iced tea."

"I can tell I came to the right place. This is great!"

------------------

By now, the shadows were long. It had been a happy afternoon. The
children were laughing and having the best time Helen could remember
for a long while, maybe since Kevin's accident. Helen smiled: Adam
and Joan had been together all afternoon, and they had that look in
their eyes again. It wasn't going to be puppy love any more, but it
might be something stronger, something that would carry them through
the ups and downs of life. Helen got the ice cream from the freezer
compartment of the refrigerator and set it on the counter by the
sink, next to the chocolate brownies, already cut and on paper
plates.

Looking out the window, she saw that Adam had a few streaks of gray
in his hair; he was as slim as ever. Running in merry circles around
him were the twins, three-year old Elizabeth and Helen. Joan had cut
her hair short, put on about fifteen pounds, and looked very happy.
She was with Grace, who was nursing little 'Michael Faraday Girardi'
-- Helen shook her head and smiled at the name Luke and Grace had
given him. Then she saw Kevin, and grabbed the counter to hold her
balance. He was standing! There was a tire swing on a rope hanging
from the big maple tree, and Kevin was pushing little four-year-old
Joan in the swing; she was laughing with glee. Lilly, her hair
completely gray, was coming toward the door: "Helen, you need help
with dessert?"

Helen smiled, and blinked away the tears. Lilly was by her: "Are you
OK?" Helen looked again into the yard, and all was as it had been
before. "Yes. Yes, I'm OK. Everything is good." She smiled at Lilly:
"It is good to be alive."