Renewed sobbing surged loudly from the groups of women in the corners, like tears in stereo. Judy considered leaving the room, but the woman was so obviously alone, a clear outsider. Judy leaned to her and whispered, “We’re the only women in here not crying. I think it’s the price of admission.”
The woman laughed softly. “Now that’s the difference between the Italians and Irish. We Irish know how to throw a grand wake. Everybody has a good time. The whole point is
“No,” Judy told her, counting it as a measure of the woman’s naivete that she would expect an American to be familiar with Ireland’s counties. Judy had always felt guilty she knew no geography but America’s own.
“It’s a lovely place, lovely. I’m from a town called Loughrea. I came over only two years ago, after I met my husband, Kevin. I’m Theresa, by the way.”
“Great to meet you,” Judy said simply, and got away without supplying her own name, in Theresa’s enthusiasm for someone to talk to.
“Well, my husband, Kevin, he’s American. He came to town on holiday, and he was looking for the ATM machine. You know, the MAC machine, you call it? And I told him it was right in front of him, pretty as you please, on Dublin Road. We fell in love right there.”
“‘Where’s the MAC?’ Quite a pickup line,” Judy said with a smile, and Theresa laughed warmly.
“It was. We got married and now we’re having the baby, and it’s been grand.” She paused, uneasy. “Not that it hasn’t taken some getting used to, a new marriage and all, and the way things are over here. Of course I’d read so much about America, we have all your TV shows and movies and your books, and I thought I knew what to expect. But then again, you can never tell what turn your life will take, can you?” The woman shook her head as if in a memory, and a sudden wetness sprang to her eyes.
“You want to sit down?” Judy asked, taken aback, and helped the pregnant woman to a shaky seat near the door.
“I’m sorry, I’m being so silly. It must be my hormones.”
“No, that’s okay.” Judy yanked for a Kleenex from a box left on the seats and handed it to her. “You’re in the crying room. You might as well cry.”
Suddenly the lounge door opened, and Judy froze. John Coluzzi stuck his head inside, as if he were looking for someone. He hovered right over Judy’s shoulder, so close she could smell his heavy aftershave. Was he looking for her? She could be dead if he found her. She threw her arm around Theresa and quickly yanked her close, comforting her. Judy hoped they’d look like more crying women in the crying room.
Coluzzi lingered a minute more, but Theresa only cried harder, and Judy hugged her tight. Then Judy heard the door close behind her back. Coluzzi must have gone, leaving behind the faint scent of Calvin Klein.
Theresa was saying, through her tears, “You’re so nice. It’s so nice . . . to make a friend here. Americans . . . or maybe Philadelphians, I don’t know . . . they’re not always so friendly to new people.”
“I know what you mean,” Judy said, and she did. She had made only one friend in Philly, Mary, but she had always blamed herself. Maybe she should start blaming other people, which would be easier.
“Everything’s going so wrong, just when it should be . . . so right. We’re under so much strain now, and my hormones, the doctor said . . . they’re going crazy.”
“I’m sure things will get better.” Judy held Theresa while her shoulders shook with sobs, her heart going out to her, especially because Theresa had just saved her life. “And soon you’ll have a new baby.”
“But we’re in trouble . . . with money, I mean. Things are so expensive here. Not like at home. I think I’m just so . . . what do you call it? Homesick.”
This feeling Judy didn’t know. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”
“We’re just building our new house . . . and my husband’s business was going so well. He was doing work for the Coluzzis . . . and we were finally going to get out of the apartment . . . and we need, you know, a nursery.” Theresa heaved a mighty sob. “They were even talking . . . about buying his company. They wanted to . . . expand or something, and they wanted to pay so much. But then . . . Angelo Coluzzi got killed and now there’s . . . a lawsuit against the company and I don’t know what’s going to happen. We could lose everything.”
Judy felt stricken. Theresa must be the wife of one of the subcontractors. Judy had caused all this pain, to a pregnant woman. She didn’t focus on the fact that making the Coluzzis’ life a living hell meant making a living hell of lives like Theresa’s. “I’m so sorry,” Judy said, meaning it.
“Kevin says not to worry, but I can’t help it. We can’t lose the new house, not with the baby on the way.”
Judy’s thoughts raced ahead. As bad as she felt for Theresa, maybe this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. What was it Roser had said?
“It is awful . . . and it couldn’t come at a worse time. I don’t dare tell my parents for fear they’ll tell me . . . to leave Kevin and come right home. I want to go home, but I don’t want . . . to lose my marriage.”
Judy grabbed the entire box of Kleenex, hating that now she had an ulterior motive. But she had a job to do, and lives were at stake. “Please stay calm, but I have to tell you something surprising. I think I can help you and your husband.”
“What . . . did you say?”
“I’m a lawyer, and I can help you. I know about the lawsuit, and your husband isn’t the target.” Judy handed her a fresh tissue, and Theresa dabbed at her eyes.
“Of course he isn’t. He can’t be. He hardly knows . . . the Coluzzi family. We don’t know . . . any of these people here. He never worked for them before.”
“I figured that.”
Theresa blinked her puzzled eyes free of tears. “But however do you know that?”
“My name is Judy Carrier, and I’m the lawyer who filed the suit.”
Theresa gasped, but the sound got lost in the wailing broadcasted in Dolby sound from the two far corners of the room. Theresa began to open her mouth, as if to yell or call someone for help, but Judy grabbed her hand and held on to it.
“No! Please don’t betray me. These people will kill me.”
“They’re killers. They’re dangerous people. They’re not what they seem, to you anyway.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Theresa looked at Judy as if she were crazy, which was a distinct possibility.
“I was hoping to get to your husband or one of the other subs. Your husband, is he Kevin McRea?”
Theresa nodded in teary shock, and Judy kept her grip on her soft hands.
“Listen to me. Kevin’s in trouble as long as he stays with the Coluzzis. I know he built them a driveway in return for getting the excavation and paving contract for Philly Court.”
“I don’t know anything about Kevin’s business.”
“I’m not saying you knew, but what he did was against our law.” Judy felt a twinge of guilt at terrorizing her, but it was all true. “I don’t want to go after Kevin, or you.” She lowered her voice so as not to be heard by the other sobbing women. “The Coluzzis are the bad guys here and they won’t help Kevin when push comes to shove, believe me. They’re dangerous people and they stick together. They’ll hang you all out to dry.”
Theresa’s eyes brimmed with new tears, but Judy couldn’t stop now.
“You can reach me at my office in town, anytime. I promise you that if you talk to me and get Kevin to cooperate with me, I’ll let him out of the lawsuit. I’ll drop him, just like that, and your troubles will be over. I won’t tell anyone that he called until we have to go to trial. I don’t want to take your baby’s nursery, okay? Will you do it?”
Tears clouded Theresa’s eyes, and she withdrew her hands. “You don’t care about my baby. You’re just trying to use Kevin, to help your case against him!”
“No, I do care, but that doesn’t matter. Given what Kevin has done, I’m the best chance he has of getting out of trouble. Tell him we spoke. It’s his only chance, and yours.”
But before Theresa could answer or expose her, Judy rose and left through the lounge door. She wanted to get out of the funeral home, fast. She had accomplished more than she’d hoped to. As the lawyers say, when you
