Now that Cee is gone,I need to find something to do with myself for the long term. I need to makefriends, which is something I thought I was very good at my whole life, until I realized that doing drugs with someone and then blowing them in the bathroom wasn’t really the way most people thought of friendship. There were plenty of people I knew, but no one who ever knewme.
Now I have Luca, but I also need a life. I need friends. People tohangwith.
And so one Friday afternoon, six weeks after Margaret Fincher Donovan’s body has been committed to the earth, I get that day’s bodyguard to drive me down to Our Lady of Mercy. Today my guard is Matteo Vitali, a guy from Snapper Marino’s crew. I know he’d like to take on the job permanently, but for now, my bodyguards swap out day to day, on my request.
I just don’t want to get close to one of them again. Not so soon after Marco, anyway. But I always learn their names.
Stepping back into the community hall makes it feel like nothing has changed. Mrs. Murphy and the other women are there, and they all stare at me like they always used to do, and then mutter among each other. The one thing that’s different is that Aidan O’Leary is already there in the hall, helping the kids make pizza dough, although he seems to have more flouronhim than in the mixing bowls.
Must be Friday Fun Club today.
This is the first time I’ve been back in this place since Luca killed Sam Fuscone here, but I surprise myself by feeling nothing except sad when I think of how hard I made Marco’s job that day. He never deserved half the shit I laid on him.
One of the kids must recognize me from meatloaf day, because he shouts, “Hey, Finch!” and grins toothily as I wave back. It’s his greeting that makes Aidan look up, blinking in surprise.
“Finch,” he says after a moment, and then he stands up. “You kids just keep mixing—it should all come together. Mrs. Murphy, perhaps you could take over for now?” he asks, giving her a firm look when she begins shaking her head. “Thankyou, Mrs. Murphy.”
Looks like Priest Boy finally grew some balls if he’s managing to corral the Ladies’ Committee.
“Hi, Aidan,” I say as he comes over. “Got any newsletters that need folding?”
He studies my face for a moment, then gives a smile. “I believe I do.”
“This is Teo Vitali, by the way,” I say, introducing today’s bodyguard. I try to do that regularly these days. Show these poor bastards the respect they deserve.
Aidan shakes his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And you, Father,” Teo says.
“Aidan hasn’t taken his vows,” I say casually. “He’s not a Father. Yet.” It’s worth it just to see the look on Aidan’s face. “Listen, no offense, but I don’t really wanna fold newsletters today,” I say as we start walking. “Could we maybe just…sit in the church and talk or something? I know you’re busy with the kids—”
“I always have time for you, Finch,” Aidan tells me, with this smile so genuine it almost breaks my heart.
“Why?” I ask, as we sit down in the first pew. Teo sits a few rows back, far away enough so he can’t hear, but close enough to spring into action if any random Fuscones happen to walk in.
“Why?” Aidan repeats.
“Why do you always have time for me?”
He looks me over again, thinking. “You know, even before I met you, Celia talked about you. She obviously loved you very much, and she thought life had kicked you around some. She never said anything outright about the things her husband was wrapped up in—” Not to Aidan, anyway, I think wryly. “—but the way she talked about you had a sadness to it. She said you were something of a lost soul, that you hadn’t yet found your place in the world. And then I met you, and, well, we didn’t get off on the right foot, but I meant what I said that first day. I wanted us to be friends.”
“I didn’t.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I got that message.”
“I do now, though. Um. Want to be friends, if that’s okay. And I think I’d like to volunteer here, like Cee used to.”
“That would be wonderful,” Aidan says, like I just told him he won the lottery.
I look up at the altar in front of us. I’m starting to understand Luca’s insistence on life after death. When you take so many, it must be a way to cope.
“Do you want to pray with me?” Aidan asks eagerly, and I snort.
“Sorry, but you’ll never make a believer outta me. But…” I take a breath, think about something Luca said once. “I wouldn’t mind lighting a few candles. For my Mom. For my Pops. And…” I might burst into divine fire if I do it, but what the hell. “And for my sister, Maggie.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had so much loss in your life,” Aidan says quietly. “I’d be honored if you’d let me stand with you while you light them.”
I shrug, and then remember I just told him I wanted to be friends. “Thanks. And—youcan pray if you like.”
