'I have.'
'Nothing but the truth, so help you God. You're not a priest, are you?'
He shook his head. 'No.'
And remembered Debbie asking if he felt better now, and he did.
But then saw where this was going, Mary Pat saying, 'It's still a sin, I suppose, but not as serious as breaking a vow? You have to remember I was a good Presbyterian before I met Fran and became a convert.
And the way they're relaxing the rules, I'm not sure what's a sin and what isn't anymore. Debbie of course knows you're not a priest.'
'She guessed the same as you did.'
'Terry, I didn't guess, I know you. You're not selfless enough, or that security-minded or devoted to your mother.'
'You told the girls I was Fr. Terry.'
'Maybe for a moment I believed it. Then Debbie appeared, little sleepyhead trying to look innocent.'
'Fran believes it.'
'He wants to more than anything. Then he doesn't have to worry about you ending up in jail. But deep down? I'm not so sure.' She said, 'I loved little Debbie calling you Father. Tm taking Father to visit parishes so he can make his mission appeal, for the little orphans.'
The bed still warm. You and the Deb are hot for each other?'
'That's where we are right now, yeah.'
'You did do it in my bed.' 'Only once.'
'Five years in Africa, you come back-'
'Maybe twice.'
'Terry…?'
'Another time where you're sitting.' He believed he saw Mary Pat move her butt on the love seat, squirm, just a little. 'Once in the library, the other times at her apartment, and that's all.'
'I admire your restraint,' Mary Pat said. 'Tell me, if you're not a priest, what are you?'
'I guess I'm back to whatever I was.'
'Terry, don't act dumb, okay, or innocent-'back to whatever I was'-you're a crook, admit it. You're gonna put on your Roman collar and con parishes into giving you money. Isn't that what you are, Terry, a con man?'
'That was the original idea,' he said, serious, telling his sister-inlaw of all people what she wanted to know and looking at it himself, hearing himself. He said, 'But now we have a benefactor,' Terry smiling just a little, seeing Tony Amilia sitting at that table in his warm-up jacket. Mary Pat might think that was funny, too, if he told her. And maybe not. She wasn't smiling.
She said, 'We. Debbie's in it with you?'
'She's helping out.'
'Con one person now, this benefactor, instead of a bunch of people sitting in church?'
He didn't have to answer that one. The girls were banging on the bedroom door, calling their mom. Mary Pat said, 'Let them in, will you?' stubbing out her cigarette, then waving her hand in the smoke rising from the ashtray.
Terry walked over and opened the door and the girls looked up at him, hesitant. He started back to his chair and now they came in, Jane saying, 'We can't find our backpacks.'
'They're right there,' Mary Pat said. 'Uncle Terry brought them up for you.' She said, 'Girls, come here for a minute.' They came over to their mother's side of the table, the six-year-old, Katy, pressing close to her and Mary Pat brushed the girl's hair from her forehead.
'Tell Uncle Terry what you want to be when you grow up.'
She had to be coaxed. 'Tell him, honey, he'd like to know.'
'I want to be a saint,' Katy said.
'Like the one you're named after,' Terry said, 'Saint Catherine?'
'Which Saint Catherine?'
He had to think. 'Saint Catherine of Siena?'
'She's okay. She was a mystic and could see guardian angels. My favorite is Saint Catherine of Alexandria, virgin and martyr. They put her on a spiked wheel, only it broke? So they cut her head off.'
Mary Pat said, 'Katy loves martyrs.'
Terry said, 'You know what they did to Saint Agatha?'
'Is she the one, they cut off her boobs and threw her in a burning fire?'
'Hot coals,' Terry said.
Katy was edging around the table toward him. 'Do you know any more?'
'How about Saint Sebastian?'
'He was stuck with arrows.'
'Katy's into saints,' Mary Pat said. 'She picked it up from Jane who got most of them off the Internet they're little cyber Catholics-but now Jane's into serious tennis, USTA competition, ten-and-under age group. She started last year when she was seven, lost her first couple of matches and hasn't lost since. Jane's now regional champ,' Mary Pat said, touching Jane now, fooling with her hair. 'Aren't you, sweetheart?'
She said to Terry, 'You know who I want to play? Serena Williams, she won the Open.'
'Isn't she a lot older than you are?'
'Yeah, but when I'm her age? She'll only be like twenty-four or -five.' She turned to her mom then. 'How come you said he's Uncle Terry instead of Father?'
'I thought he became a priest,' Mary Pat said, 'but he really didn't. He was kidding.'
Jane said, 'Oh,' and walked away from them. Katy caught up with her and Jane said, 'You're not suppose to call him Father anymore,' and Katy said, 'I know.' Mary Pat waited until they'd picked up their backpacks and were out of the room.
'You see how easy it is? No big deal. Uncle Terry isn't a priest.
Okay. They think you're just a good guy who knows something about saints. Nothing wrong with that.' She said, 'Do you realize this is the first time we've talked?'
'Mary Pat, you could've been a good prosecuting attorney.'
'I could've been good at a lot of things. I chose to marry your brother and have children and be a homemaker, and that's what I am.
IF you want to be a crook, Terry, that's up to you. I won't pry anymore or get in your way. I just want to ask you one more question.
Maybe two.'
'Go ahead.'
'Does she really like the way I've done the house?'
'Debbie? She loves it. It reminds her of the home she grew up in.
What's the other question?'
'Will she stick by you, Terry, if you luck up?'
23
THE MUTT CAME IN AT noon. He stuck his head in Randy's office, said, 'It's all set for tonight,' and started away.
'Wait a minute--Mutt? What's all set?'
The Mutt appeared in the doorway again. 'I'm gonna do both of 'em tonight. Mr. Moraco first.'
'Where?'
'I don't know yet. I'm waiting to find out where to meet him. You know, so he can gimme the gun and my money.'
Randy was standing at the desk in his shirt sleeves, dark shirt, light-colored tie. He sat down. 'You don't have a gun?'
