Authors: Zena Wynn
“Where you been? Did you bring me a present?”
“Quiet! Give him some room. Let them get out of the doorway. Come on in, Max. It’s about time you arrived,” his oldest sister, Margarette, chastised. “And who is this?” Maggie asked, motioning to Zoe who had a tight grip on his neck and had tried to crawl into him as soon as the shouting began.
Max glanced down to see Zoe gazing warily at the faces surrounding them, her blue eyes narrowed. “This is my daughter, Zoe. You remember Cassidy?” His voice held a tone of challenge as he introduced his wife.
“Of course.” Maggie gave Cassidy a tentative smile. “Take off your coats. You came at a good time. Dinner will be served in a few minutes.”
“We’re not staying,” Max said firmly. “We only dropped by to say Merry Christmas.”
Maggie’s face fell. “Oh, but…”
A chorus of protests rang out. A firm tugging on his pants leg caught his attention. He looked down to see his nephew Tommy griping the material, his big brown eyes pleading up at him. “Do you hafta go, Unca Max?”
Heart melting, he turned helplessly to Cassidy. She met his gaze for a long, silent moment before turning to his sister. “Dinner would be nice. Thank you.”
Cheers greeted her announcement. Max leaned over and kissed her cheek, murmuring quiet thanks in her ear.
“Can I hold her, Uncle Max?” his niece Candy asked, holding her arms out.
Zoe gazed at the teenager, making no move to leave his arms. “She’s shy. Let her get used to you first and maybe she’ll allow you to hold her.”
Hands tugged and both he and Cassidy were divested of their coats. He snagged Cassidy’s hand, ensuring they stayed together and they were herded downstairs to the basement. His parents were already down there, seated at the head of the long table, along with Father Murdock and some of their older family friends and relatives.
Max walked over to give his respects. He greeted each one with a nod. “Dad. Momma. Father Murdock. Merry Christmas.”
“Max!” His mother’s gaze was glued to the child in his arms. She struggled to her feet, and his father reached out a supporting hand to steady her. “You came, and you brought the child with you.”
“This is my daughter Zoe, and you remember Cassidy,” he said, determined his wife not be ignored.
There was an awkward silence as his mother’s forward moment visibly checked. Father Murdock stepped in to fill the breach. “I remember you, Cassidy. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
“You, too, Father,” Cassidy murmured politely. From her stiff posture, Max knew Cassidy was aware of the tension in the room.
The basement had slowly filled with family and guests coming in to take their place at the table. However, they did so quietly. Even the children seemed to sense something important was happening.
“May I hold my grandchild, Max?” his mother asked in a tremulous voice.
Cassidy stirred but didn’t say anything.
“If she’ll come to you. She doesn’t like strangers,” he warned. His mother’s flinch at the knowledge she was an unknown to her youngest grandchild gave him a feeling of grim satisfaction.
However, his mother didn’t let that knowledge stop her. Holding her hands out, she asked, “Zoe, may I hold you?”
Zoe stared at her grandmother. Max was reminded of his first meeting with his child. Zoe didn’t audibly reject his mother as she had him, but she laid her head on his chest, fingers clutching his shirt in silent response.
His mother sighed, slowly lowering her hands. “Maybe later when she’s more comfortable with us.” She turned that troubled gaze on him. “She has your eyes.”
Our eyes
, Max thought, looking into eyes the same shade of blue as his own. Only his mother’s eyes held more wrinkles than he remembered, and her salt-and-pepper hair had more salt than two months ago. Her formerly rigid posture had a bit of a slump, like she carried a heavy weight on her shoulders. There was an air of sadness around her. He was suddenly, forcibly reminded his mother was in her seventies.
“You should marry your young lady and give your child a name,” his father said, surprising him.
Max waited for his mother to object. When she didn’t, he said, “Cassidy and I married two months ago, Poppy.”
A chorus of gasps and exclamations rang out, followed by congratulations as, once again, his family forgot their reticence and crowded around.
“This calls for a celebration. Get the champagne!” his father’s brother, Uncle George, shouted.
Max, who was watching his mother, saw her expression morphed from shock, to hurt, to resignation at having missed such an important event in his life. Weddings in his family were epic affairs, celebrated from the time the couple announced their intent to marry until the day the actual ceremony took place. That he’d denied her and the rest of his family the opportunity to be a part of it was a crushing blow.
“Come, sit. Sit! Everyone, sit and let’s eat!” his aunt Maria instructed, herding him and Cassidy into chairs near the center of the table.
“Pass them the food. Our prodigal has returned and brought with him a blushing bride,” his father announced grandly.
A quick glance confirmed Cassidy was indeed blushing at being the focus of so much attention.
Another relative, Max didn’t notice who, returned with the bottles of bubbly. Glasses were filled and his father stood at the head of the table, cup raised in a toast. “To Max and his bride, may they have a long, happy, and prosperous life…”
“Filled with lots of babies,” his uncle added.
“
Salute
!” his father shouted.
Everyone echoed. “
Salute
!”
Once the toast finished, the barrage began. The females were full of questions regarding the wedding. His sisters, perhaps to make up for their previous rudeness, led the charge.
“Where was the ceremony?”
“What did you wear?”
“What type of flowers did you have?”
“What were your colors?”
“Do you have any pictures?”
“Who officiated the ceremony?” The last question came from Father Murdock.
Cassidy didn’t respond to any of the inquiries, her concentration seemingly focused on loading her and Zoe’s plates from the many platters of food being circulated.
Since she apparently had no intention of answering, Max did. “I surprised Cassidy with a small, outdoor ceremony in a wooded park there in West Chester. Cassidy was a beautiful bride. I gave her a bouquet of white calla lilies to carry. Her best friend Erika and her husband Dave witnessed our vows.”
There was another chorus of “Oohs” and “Aahs.”
Catrina, one of his older nieces, sighed and said, “Uncle Max, that’s so romantic.”
“I didn’t hear who officiated the ceremony,” Father Murdock said, frowning slightly. “I would have happily done so had I been notified,” he added in what Max knew was a gentle reprimand. The Father had married all of his siblings and quite a few cousins.
Inwardly bracing himself for the reaction he knew was coming, Max admitted, “We self-united, Father.”
Another sharp gasp, this time from his mother. “Your union hasn’t been blessed by the Holy Church? Then your marriage is not valid.”
“The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania says differently, Momma,” Max said firmly.
“Son, marriage is a holy sacrament. Surely you don’t want to forfeit the grace the blessing bestows on you and any issue from your union?” his father said, voice solemn.
Max glanced at Cassidy. Her face was averted, angled toward Zoe as she tried to feed her. Zoe, true to her independent nature, was demanding to feed herself and kept tugging on the spoon whenever Cassidy lifted it to her mouth. From what he could see of Cassidy’s purposeful lack of expression, she’d removed herself from the discussion.
“What’s done is done, Poppy.”
“Well, has the child at least been christened?” his mother asked, her distress evident as she clutched her rosary necklace.
“No, Momma. Cassidy isn’t Catholic, remember? Neither are her parents. There was no one to have Zoe christened when she was first born due to my not being notified of her birth.” He couldn’t help sliding in that dig, knowing his mother was the reason he hadn’t known.
His mother waved that away. “Max, the child must be christened. Under the circumstances, I’m sure Father Murdock can—”
“No,” said a voice that was firm, focused, final.
All heads, including his, swiveled toward Cassidy. His wife had finally broken her silence. Cassidy held her head high, chin lifted in challenge. Max saw a quiet, cold fury in the depths her eyes.
For the first time that evening, his mother looked directly at Cassidy. “Dr. Bra—”
“Momma!” he rebuked her sharply.
A barely perceptible pause. “
Cassidy
…not being Catholic, you wouldn’t understand the import of the child being christened—”
Cassidy held his mother’s gaze, revealing she too had a spine made of steel. “Mrs. Desalvo, with all due respect, I understand what christening
Zoe
signifies. I simply refuse to have my child brought up in a religion that countenances treating people as you do. Zoe will not be christened into the Catholic faith, nor will she attend Catholic school. If you and your family are an example of the types of people who practice your faith, I want nothing to do with Catholicism.”
Max was stunned. Though they hadn’t discussed matters of faith and religion, he knew neither Cassidy nor her family had any particular church affiliation. Therefore, he’d just assumed when he began attending Mass regularly, she’d join him. After all, not only had she gone to church with him last night, they’d attended at her prompting.
He’d also naturally believed his children would be raised in his faith, the same way he, his parents, and their parents before them had. He said nothing of his thoughts. That was between him and his wife.
“Max,” his mother prompted, obviously hoping he’d override Cassidy.
“You heard my wife,” he said, verbally siding with Cassidy on the matter.
“But…not Catholic?” Her expression bewildered, his mother struggled to comprehend his decision. “Our whole family is part of the Holy Roman Church and has been for generations.”
Max quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time for a change.”
Voices rose as sidebar conversations erupted up and down the table. From their tone and tenor, no one could believe he’d said such a thing. All present were devout Catholics. Max didn’t care what they thought. If changing his faith would keep peace in his home, that’s what he’d do. Perhaps, in time, Cassidy could be convinced that not all Catholics should be judged by his mother’s actions.
Under the table Max squeezed Cassidy’s hand. It was a reminder they stood together as one unit no matter the opposition. She gripped his hand tight, showing her inner turmoil though none of what she felt was visible on her face.
“Cassidy, my child.” The on-going discussions quieted to a dull whisper as Father Murdock spoke from his position near Max’s parents at the head of the table. “Our blessed Lord teaches us that as the God-ordained head of the family, it is Max’s responsibility to lead his family in spiritual matters,” he said in his pastoral tone.
Like spectators at a tennis match, everyone turned to see what Cassidy’s response would be.
Max was sure the Father’s intent was to soothe oil over troubled waters. His wife, however, was not of a mind to be soothed. “Father Murdock, my grandmother always taught me that lying is a sin, and that I was to treat others with the same decency and respect I would like to receive. Does your blessed Lord do the same? If so, I haven’t been on the receiving end of much kindness in this home.”
“Did somebody lie?” a young voice asked and was immediately shushed.
Forehead crinkling, mouth turned down, and brown eyes solemn, Father Murdock said gravely, “Yes, He does.” He glanced around the table. Several people avoided his piercing gaze. “It’s unfortunate that the actions of a few have turned you against the Catholic faith as a whole. We have classes you can take that will hopefully give you a truer picture of what we believe. Should you decide to do so, I’ll be happy to arrange them for you at my parish or the parish of your choice.”
“Thank you for offering,” Cassidy said. His wife’s facial expression and tone, civil though they were, said she wouldn’t budge on this issue.
There was the sound of chair legs scraping on wood. Max turned to see Nicco stand. “Cassidy’s right. We, all of us, owe her a great apology. Not one of us took the time to get to know her as a person, to see why Max loved her so much. Because she wasn’t Catholic, because of her personal circumstances, and because she wasn’t what some of us thought Max needed in a spouse, we judged her and found her lacking. I, for one, want to publicly say that I’m sorry, Cassidy. Sorry for the pain I personally caused you by my actions, and I want to officially welcome you to the family.”
Nicco turned to face him. “Max, I had no right to come between you and Cassidy. Better than anyone else, I should know you can’t judge a relationship from the outside looking in. I should have trusted your judgment. I hope you can forgive me. I miss hanging out with my little brother,” he added with a self-depreciating smile.
Max glanced at Cassidy, and she gave him a slight nod of encouragement. Rising, he walked to Nicco, who met him halfway. They embraced, the emotions between them strong. Max stepped back and looked his brother square in the face. “You betray me again and next time I’ll put you in the hospital,” he warned in a low voice that hopefully didn’t carry to the others.
“Understood,” Nicco said. He stepped around Max and headed toward Cassidy. “Can I give my new sister a hug?”
Cassidy rose, a tentative smile gracing her lips. Zoe hung limply in her arms, the excitement of the day combined with no nap taking its toll. Nicco gave Cassidy a one-armed hug, careful not to squish Zoe between them. “Welcome to the family, Sis. My home is always open to you.”
His sisters lined up behind Nicco, waiting to embrace Cassidy and welcome her into the family. Each murmured an apology at their previous treatment of her and a desire to get to know her and Zoe better. The scene made Max smile, grateful he hadn’t let bitterness keep him away today.