Vince and I tried to get him a psych assessment, but we couldn’t forcibly make him go. Then he accused me of having abortions behind his father’s back. Vince banned him from the house. Nick was unemployed and Vince paid rent for him in a one-room studio downtown, but the realtor kicked him out when he set fire to the building. Luckily, the fire was contained and nobody got hurt, but it cost us thousands for the refurb. Carmine and his girlfriend, Shelley, flew in from California to try and talk some sense into him. But even his brother couldn’t get through to him. We asked what had happened in Berkeley. Carmine was sure it wasn’t a drug issue, but said that Nick spent a lot of time on the internet, trawling through conspiracy websites. Some had more credibility than others, but many were outlandish and stupid. Princess Diana wasn’t dead and had orchestrated the 9/11 attacks on behalf of the Saudi government. Straight white men were under attack and were being replaced by aliens masquerading as immigrants. I couldn’t entirely blame the internet. Nick had developed significant mental health issues.
He started living on the streets by choice, believing that everyone around him was out to get him, and even that his brother was a clone. This was all hard on Vince and Carmine, and though I played it down, I was beginning to fear him, as a lot of his anger seemed to be targeted at women and at me in particular. When we did manage to meet him somewhere fora meal, I felt uncomfortable. A lot of times he would be completely uncommunicative and would stare at me with open hostility, or he would cower in fear until I left the restaurant. I would get my food to go and wait in the car. Vince would emerge as soon as he could, upset and distressed.
In November 2017, we hadn’t heard from Nick in six months. Vince was worried. He would visit the places where homeless people hung out, and sometimes I’d go with him. One night, we were down at Haley House, a soup kitchen run by volunteers, when I saw Milo unloading crates of food from a small truck. He was carrying a little more weight than he had in prison. He was wearing a beanie and a Red Sox jacket and had his back to me, but I knew him, like that first day in church. I was so surprised to see him that I froze, rooted to the spot. I guess I should have expected to bump into him sometime. He did a double-take when he saw me and then that huge grin appeared. ‘Erin, Eri. How are you?’ I started to tremble with shock or nerves, I don’t know. I couldn’t speak. He walked towards me until he was an arm’s length away. ‘I was wondering when I’d see you again.’
Vince appeared at my side. ‘Hi,’ he said, thrusting his arm forward to shake Milo’s hand. ‘Who’s this, honey?’ I still couldn’t speak.
‘Milo Kelly, I’m an old friend of Erin’s.’
As he said it, I could see that he was bracing himself for some reaction. But the name meant nothing to Vince, and he had other things on his mind. ‘Well, Milo, it’s a real pleasure to meet you. I’m Erin’s husband, Vince Delgado, and I’m looking for my son Niccolo, or Nick. We’re worried about him.’ He was handing Milo a picture of Nick with our contact details. ‘Do you reckon you’ve seen him around?’
Milo tore his eyes from mine and studied the photo. ‘I deliver food to places like this around the city from my uncle’s diner where I work downtown.’ The information was for me, but hepeered more closely at the photo. ‘I’m not sure I’ve seen your boy, sir, but I’ll hang on to this and look out for him, all right?’
‘Thank you, my friend, we’d be very grateful, wouldn’t we, sweetheart?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’ I kept any emotion out of my voice. My response was robotic. Vince put his arm around me and led me across the street to our car.
‘He seems like a good guy. How do you know Milo?’
In the car on the way home, I told him.
Vince was horrified by what Milo had done to Ruby and by extension to our family. He understood now why Ruby had never come back to Boston. He sympathized with teenage me, but I assured him I was over it. Milo had served his time in prison. Ruby was in Ireland. I begged him to let the past be the past.
47
In September 2018, Dad died. He was only sixty-two years old. He was way too young. He got pancreatic cancer, and it was four months between diagnosis and death. He had felt a twinge in his back, but didn’t think it was bad enough to see a doctor. Kathy was distraught. I had to call Mom and Ruby. Mom was upset. She and Dad had become better friends than they ever were as spouses. Since our wedding, Mom had always visited Dad and Kathy when she came to Boston to see me. And despite her initial impressions of Kathy, they found common ground. They even once went to a Dolly Parton concert together.
Ruby may have been upset, but when I called her for the first time in years, I got the exact response I expected. She did not want to come over for the funeral.
‘I can’t go back there, Erin. I can’t ever go back there.’
I was annoyed with her. ‘This isn’t about you, Ruby, it’s about paying your respects to your father. He was a good dad to both of us, I can’t believe you don’t want to say goodbye. He deserves that much. Mom told me you were in New York a few weeks ago. I could have come to see you.’
‘You don’t understand, Erin, Boston triggers –’
‘For God’s sake, that was almost twenty years ago. Are you going to hold it against an entire city forever? You’re being ridiculous.’
‘He’ll be there, at the funeral, I know he will.’
I didn’t have to ask who she meant. The thought had alsocrossed my mind. Dad had been good to Milo before the rape, and Milo could easily show up.
The funeral was big, with screens broadcasting outside on the lawn in front of the church. Aunt Rachel was devastated. We all were. Since the damage to his hands because of the arson attack on the church, he had struggled. Devotees came from all of Dad’s other churches. He had begun to wind down the investment business to concentrate more on what he saw as his mission. The funeral was devastating and uplifting at the same time. People queued up to say nice things about him, kindnesses he had done for them with no expectation of anything in return. Dad was always a ‘pay it forward’ kind of guy. I was proud of him, and I missed him. If Milo did turn up to the funeral, and I suspect he did, I did not see him. I received a condolence card at the office.
Your dad was one of the good guys. I don’t blame him for believing his own daughter over me, and I’m sorry for your loss.
I put it straight in the trash can.
Kathy inherited the house and enough money to keep her comfortable. Mom, Ruby and I inherited $50k each. The rest was bequeathed to the church and to charities all over Massachusetts. I know that Ruby wasn’t happy about it. She had expected to inherit millions, but Mom and Dad had bought her a home and I had got the money to start a business plus a lot of financial help when I was in New York. Ruby had moved a year or two earlier to a much bigger detached house, and Jack was a movie star – I was sure they could afford it. Dad had mentioned to me that he intended to bequeath most of his money to charities. I guess he didn’t say it to Ruby because they were rarely in touch. To any normal person, $50k was a good inheritance, but Ruby was shocked. Too bad. Mom knew about it. I guess she never told Ruby either.
Dad had appointed a successor for his church shortly before his death. When he realized his condition was terminal, he was quick to get his affairs in order. Typical Dad. I was mad with God for taking him so young, but in my last conversation with Dad, he told me that God knew what he was doing and that he had served his purpose in this realm and was looking forward to the next one. I felt unsettled after his death for a long time. He had been my rock my whole life. Mom and Ruby were gone. Aunt Rachel was still in Worcester, and we were close, but she could never take the place of Dad.
Vince still held out hope that Nick could be rescued from his demons. He had turned up a year after he went missing, toothless and gaunt. He had been in San Francisco, living in a tented city. He said it was the only place he felt safe from the aliens. He stayed with us for one night, but nobody slept. He roamed around the house all night, constantly checking that windows and doors were locked. When Vince tried to talk to him the next day about seeing a doctor, he disappeared again. It was a pattern that would repeat itself for years.
I could not let the past go. I kept an eye on Milo via the internet. I could see that he was still working in his uncle’s diner. He had an Instagram account, but didn’t post with any regularity. Once or twice a year, I would dress in as much of a disguise as I could muster, a hat and sunglasses, and go downtown and sit in a bar opposite the diner to watch. Sometimes I wouldn’t see him at all. Twice, I saw him standing in the doorway in conversation with some friend or customer. Once, I saw him get into a beat-up Corvette in the alley beside the diner. A couple of times I saw him in the company of a woman, a redhead, short and pretty. I hated him but I couldn’t stay away. Once, I saw him outside the diner with our old school principal,Mr Bermingham, from Altman High. Bermingham seemed to be agitated and Milo looked annoyed. But these sightings of Milo fuelled my anger. I would go home to my husband and lie about where I’d been. How would he understand when I couldn’t understand myself?
48
Ruby
