Carella handed off his mother to Luigi on his left, and his sister to Lowell on his right . . .
So long, Mom, he thought. So long, Slip.
. . . and went to sit beside Teddy in the first row of pews. Teddy took his hand and squeezed it. He nodded.
He listened dry-eyed as the priest first told the gathered assemblage that they were here today to join in holy wedlock not just Louise Carella and Luigi Fontero, but also Angela Carella and Henry Lowell . . .
Someone in the pews behind Carella tittered at the novelty of it all; some novelty, he thought.
. . . and listened dry-eyed as the priest first recited the words for his mother and Luigi to repeat. . .
. . . and watched dry-eyed as Luigi slipped the wedding band onto his mother's hand and kissed his bride, Carella's mother . . .
. . . and listened again dry-eyed as his sister and Henry Lowell repeated the same words . . .
. . . and watched dry-eyed as the man who'd allowed his father's killer to walk sealed their marriage with a golden circlet and a chaste kiss . . .
Till death us do part, Carella thought.
Teddy squeezed his hand again.
Again, he nodded.
He felt no joy.
15.
IT WAS ALMOST twelve-thirty when Sharyn got back to the apartment. Kling was waiting for her, waiting to confront her. He'd known she was lying the moment she told him she was going to her office this morning. He knew the office in Rankin Plaza was closed on Saturdays, and he knew her private office on Ainsley Avenue was similarly closed. So while she was in the shower, he yelled to her that he was heading out, and then he went downstairs and waited for her to come out of the building. He then followed her not to Rankin and not to Ainsley but to a coffee shop on Belvedere and Ninrh where who should be waiting for her but Dr. James Melvin Hudson himself in person.
Kling had watched them through the plate glass windows fronting the street.
Hudson leaning over the table.
Sharyn's head close to his.
Taking earnestly, seriously.
Taking her hands at one point.
Crying?
Was he crying?
Now, at three minutes to one, he waited for her in his own apartment, waited for the sound of her key in the latch, the key he had given her, waited to confront her.
He was sitting on the couch facing the entrance door. On one end of the couch was the small pillow she'd had needlepointed with the words:
Share
Help
Love
Encourage
Protect
. . . the first letters of which spelled out the word SHLEP, a Yiddish word that translated literally as 'to drag, or pull, or lag behind,' but which in this city's common usage had come to mean 'a long haul,' a 'drag' indeed, as in 'a shlep and a half.'
The words on Kling's pillow were needlepointed in white on black. Those on the identical pillow in Sharyn's apartment were black on white. They were in this together, for the long haul. Or so he'd thought. They knew it would be a shlep and a half, a white man and a black woman. But they knew they could get through it if they merely respected those five simple rules: Share, Help, Love, Encourage, Protect. Or so he'd believed until now.
He heard the key turning in the lock.
The door opened.
WHEN THE DOORMAN called upstairs to tell her the driver from Regal was here, Melissa said, 'Ask him to wait, please. I'll be right down.'
She checked herself in the hall mirror . . .
Sweater tight enough to warrant admiration, skirt short enough to inspire whistles, strappy high-heeled sandals, altogether the image of either a top fashion model or a high-priced call girl, often indistinguishable one from the other these days. Satisfied, she picked up her purse, and went downstairs to meet whatever destiny awaited her on this bright Saturday afternoon.
LUIGI'S BROTHER WAS taking to Carella. Or rather, the brother - who possessed another fine old ginzo name, Mario - was talking at him, regaling him in broken English with stories about Luigi when he was young.
Mario Fontero was telling him they'd been born into a poor family in Milan. Luigi and Mario, the Nintendo brothers. Mario was telling him that even when he was a boy, Luigi had been a hard worker. Mario was telling him that Luigi had gone to university and graduated with honors. Mario was telling him that Luigi had started his own furniture business.
On the dance floor, Luigi was holding Carella's mother close.
His wife now.
Luigi Fontero's wife.
SHARYN CLOSED THE door behind her.
Locked it.
'How'd it go at the office?' Kling asked.
'I didn't go to the office,' she said.
He looked at her.
'Why'd you follow Julie?' she asked.
'What?'
'Julia Curtis. Why'd you go to her building and ask her letter carrier . . . ?'
'Why'd you go meet Jamie Hudson this morn . . . ?'
'What the hell is going on, Bert!'
'You tell me!'
The room went silent.
'Have you been following me?' she asked.
'Yes,' he said. 'Have you . . .'
'Why?'
'. . . been lying to me?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'Because . . .'
She cut herself short.
'Yes, tell me. Why'd you lie to me?'
'To protect Julie.'
'Who the hell is she, Sharyn? Have you and Hudson been . . . ?'
'She's a very troubled girl . . .'
'Oh, please, spare me the
'. . . who has to make the most difficult decision in her life. And if she decides the wrong way
'Is she in trouble with the law?'
'Of course not!'
'Then why do you have to protect her from me?'
'Because you wouldn't understand the situation.'
'What situation? You and your colleague Dr. Hudson meeting her on the
'What's wrong with you? You surely don't think . . .'
