Speak Low (Speak Easy 2)

She grabbed my arm and tilted her head to my shoulder. “You’re the best sister ever. Thank you. I hope Mary Grace is right and Daddy is letting you go.”

Of course you do. Then no one will be around to catch you coming in late! It was not a very nice thing to think, but I wasn’t in a nice mood. I hadn’t slept well, I was worried about Joey, and I still hadn’t decided what to do about Enzo. At mass that morning I’d prayed for clarity, but I didn’t feel any closer to it than I had last night. My feelings were a jumbled mess.

When we reached our mother’s site, we pulled some weeds that had sprung up and stood silently together in prayer. Closing my eyes, I folded my hands together and lowered my chin.

Please, Mother, I begged. Help me to do things right. I know I don’t always act the way I should. I know I’ve been reckless and self-indulgent and unwise. I know I’ve had unkind thoughts about my family. I want to be the kind of person you’d be proud of, but I don’t know where to go from here.

Sniffing, I wiped a tear from my cheek with the back of my hand.

For years I’ve been telling myself that all I want is to get out and live life, because all I’ve known of it is our house and our family and our neighborhood. Since Bridget left, I’ve been mother, housekeeper, cook—yes, I know I’ve been remiss in that area—and I tried not to resent it, but I suppose I did sometimes. And I suppose I went a bit crazy because I’ve felt trapped, and misbehaving made me feel free and full of life.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of wet earth. Exhaling, I made one last plea.

And Joey…dear God, Mother, please help him. We’ve made such a mess of things between us, and now he’s planning to do something foolish and dangerous, and I didn’t know what to say to talk him out of it. Please watch over him—I promise to be a better person and stop tormenting him if you’ll protect him the way he protects me. I promise to stop doing things that confuse him, like showing my jealousy over girls he dates, or looking at him with wicked thoughts, and I especially promise to stop kissing him.

Even though I want to. I really want to.

As I crossed myself, a strangled sob escaped my throat, and then another. Saying nothing, Molly and Mary Grace each took a hand and led me away. I saw tears on their cheeks too.

#

I managed to pull myself together for the streetcar ride home, dabbing at my face with a handkerchief and tilting my hat low over my eyes so no one would see how swollen and red they were. From the stop we walked to Bridget’s for a visit, and the second I saw her, I burst into tears. My loud keening bounced off the walls in the kitchen as she shooed her wide-eyed boys into the front room with Molly and Mary Grace and dragged me back to her bedroom.

“Stay here,” she said. “Let me just get everyone a little lunch and I’ll be right back.”

Tossing my hat to the floor, I threw myself onto her bed and wailed into the spread. I wasn’t even sure what I was crying about exactly. Joey? My mother? My father? The situation with Enzo? My dying dream of independence? Because I knew now I had to say no to Enzo’s offer. How could I move into his apartment when I didn’t trust him? Gorgeous looks aside, I hardly knew him, and most of what I did know scared me.

And what if I moved in there and felt ashamed of myself? What if he never managed to break things off with Gina and we could never be seen in public together? What would happen if what we felt for each other now died out as quickly as it sparked? Or what if I wanted to leave, and he didn’t want me to? I cried harder, knowing that Enzo would not be a man who gave up his possessions without a fight.

Because I saw quite clearly that’s what I would be—his possession.

The door flew open and Bridget opened her arms to me. She sat on the bed and I crawled into them, weeping on her shoulder, a little more quietly. After a few minutes, she squeezed me and stood up, going to her dresser. Pulling a clean white handkerchief from the top drawer, she returned to the bed and touched up my face.

“There, there,” she soothed. “Nothing can be all that bad. What’s happened, love?”

I took the handkerchief from her and swiped at my eyes and nose. “It’s a lot of things. I’m scared and exhausted and overwhelmed, and I don’t know what to do, and I feel as though I’ve made such a mess of my life and Mother would be horrified with me.”

“Oh, come on now. She wouldn’t, either. She’d be so proud of the way you’ve handled things at home, Tiny. I know she would. And I think she’d want

you to have the chance to get out on your own if that’s what you want for yourself.”

“You don’t think she’d tell me to stop being selfish and stay home where I’m needed, like Daddy did?” My words came out between halting breaths.

“No, absolutely not. If anything, she’s up there feeling horribly guilty for leaving us girls to take care of things and be a mother before we were ready.”

“She didn’t leave us by choice.”

“No, of course not. But trust me, motherhood has a way of making you feel guilty about many things you have no control over. You’ll see, someday when you have your own children.”

I sniffed. “If I have children.”

“Why wouldn’t you? Don’t you want a family?”

“I guess so. I’ve always been so busy with this one, I’ve not really thought about my own.”

“Never? Not even about getting married?”

“Why would I? I’ve never been in love the way you were with Vince. I don’t even know what love feels like.” Fresh tears welled in my eyes, and then spilled over.