Most Precious Blood (11 page)

Val nodded. Sister Gina Marie took the seat next to her. Sister Rosemary didn't even look up. Val supposed it was all right if one of the teachers made noise in the library.

“I've been worrying about you,” Sister Gina Marie said. “Have you had a chance to talk with your father?”

Val laughed. “You're the third person who's asked me that today,” she said. “Michelle and Kit and now you.”

“We're all concerned about you,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “That's natural enough.”

“Michelle's more concerned about herself,” Val said. “And what Daddy'll do to her family if he finds out she's the one who told me.”

“Do you think he would do something?” Sister Gina Marie asked. “Or is Michelle exaggerating?”

Val remembered back to second grade. The girls were all telling what their fathers did for a living. “My daddy's a businessman,” Val had said proudly. “He owns a construction business and builds lots of buildings.”

One of the girls, what was her name, she left at the end of that year, burst into laughter. “Your daddy's a gangster,” she'd said. “He kills people. Everybody knows that.”

“Stop that, Shannon!” Sister Anne had said. Shannon, that's right. Shannon O'Roarke. She and Kit had been friends in kindergarten until Shannon had failed to invite her to a birthday party.

“My daddy is not a gangster,” Val had said. Had she cried? She thought she remembered crying. “What's a gangster?”

“A gangster is a bad man,” Sister Anne had replied. “Your father is a respectable businessman. I want all you children to repeat after me, ‘Mr. Castaladi is a respectable businessman.'”

They all had too. If Sister Anne had told them to say “Mr. Castaladi is a communist spy,” they would have. Val didn't think she had reported the incident to her father when she'd gotten home, but she'd probably said something to her mother or to Connie. Or maybe Kit had, or Michelle. All Val knew was Shannon O'Roarke left Most Precious Blood, not at the end of the school year, now that she thought about it, but following Christmas vacation, and Rick gave the school a new stained-glass window for the chapel. The sisters made a big fuss about the window, and Val had been very proud of her daddy.

“Val? Are you all right?”

“I'm sorry,” Val said. “I guess my mind wandered.”

“I asked you if you'd had the chance to speak to your father,” Sister Gina Marie said. “Or is he still in Washington?”

“He's back home,” Val said. “He got in last night. But I haven't talked with him yet. Not about what Michelle told me.”

It was hard to read Sister Gina Marie's reaction. Val thought at first she was concerned, but then she imagined she saw relief as well. Was Sister Gina Marie worried that Rick would hold Most Precious Blood responsible for her finding out? Had Sister Mary Margaret, the headmistress, talked with Sister Gina Marie about the consequences of Mr. Castaladi's displeasure? At the very least, Rick might insist that all the Castaladi relations, as well as the ones on Val's mother's side, leave the school. Val added the numbers rapidly in her mind. There were at least ten or twelve kids she was related to at Most Precious Blood, if you started with kindergarten, and probably an equal number at Sacred Heart. Rick wouldn't have to resort to violence to do damage to the school.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Sister Gina Marie asked.

“I don't know,” Val replied. “What do you think I should do?”

Sister Gina Marie hesitated. “There are no easy answers,” she replied. “I prayed for you last night, Val, hoping Our Lord would give you His guidance.”

Nun talk. Val had hoped for better from Sister Gina Marie. “He didn't,” she said.

“Maybe He has, but you just haven't heard Him,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “Have you tried praying?”

Val shook her head.

“Then you might do better in the chapel than in the library,” Sister Gina Marie said. “You might find your answers there.”

“I know what I'll find there,” Val said. “A stained-glass window my father paid for to show what a respectable businessman he is.”

“I don't know your father,” Sister Gina Marie said. “I met him once or twice last year at school functions, but that's been it. But I have no doubts he loves you very much, and I know you love him every bit as much.”

“I'm glad you have no doubts,” Val said. “Because I sure do.”

“You're not a bitter girl,” Sister Gina Marie said. “I've known you long enough to be sure of that.”

“You've known me six weeks,” Val said. “Since school began. How can you possibly claim you know me?”

Sister Gina Marie put her hand on Val's. “This is a very hard time for you,” she said. “But there are many people who love you. They're praying you'll be able to work things out, and find peace again.”

“I never had peace,” Val said. “I had lies. Lies about who I was, who my father was. Lies even about my mother. I can't go back to those lies, and I can't imagine what I'm going ahead to. How much truth am I supposed to face?”

“God will be with you,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “And He'll see to it you'll be surrounded by people who love you. Don't ever doubt that.”

“I might have believed that a week ago,” Val said. “A week ago, I believed just about everything I was told. A week ago, I didn't even question why I wasn't allowed to take a walk by myself. I don't believe anything anymore. If one thing in my life is a lie, then they all are. If I can't have faith in my father, why should I have faith in God?”

“Because faith in God comes first,” Sister Gina Marie said. “All other belief stems from that.”

Val shook her head. “Not in my world,” she said. “In my world, belief starts with Rick Castaladi. What he tells you to believe is what you believe. If he decides there isn't any God, then there isn't. It's that simple.”

“Nothing is that simple,” Sister Gina Marie said. “Not even your father would claim that sort of power.”

“What do you know about him?” Val asked. “Do you know something you haven't told me?”

Sister Gina Marie closed her eyes for a moment. “Belief begins with God,” she said. “But answers begin with your father. You know you'll have to talk with him at some point.”

“When I'm ready,” Val said.

“I'll continue to pray for you,” Sister Gina Marie said.

Val managed a smile. “Pray for my English grades while you're at it,” she said. “How did I do on that quiz anyway?”

“You flunked it,” Sister Gina Marie replied. “Along with just about everybody else.”

“Even Kit?” Val asked.

“Kit's essay said nothing,” Sister Gina Marie declared. “But she said it so beautifully, I couldn't bear to fail her.”

“I'm glad,” Val said. “Kit doesn't have much going for her right now, except for school.”

“You're a good girl, Val,” Sister Gina Marie said. “I know you're angry now, but basically you're sound. That's why I have so much faith you'll come through this crisis with your heart and your soul intact.”

“I'm glad you think so, Sister,” Val said. “Because you're the only one at this table who does.”

Chapter 8

“May I come home with you after school?” Val asked Kit at lunch on Thursday.

“Still avoiding Rick?” Kit asked.

Val nodded. She'd done fairly well the night before, mostly because Rick didn't get back until nine-thirty. But there was no reason to expect he'd be late that night, and that could mean a long evening of evasion.

“You can come over,” Kit said. “But I'd better warn you. Pop's planning on coming home early and working in. He even said something about helping me make supper.”

“Jamey?” Val said. Jamey once claimed he could burn water.

Kit laughed. “I think we'll end up ordering out,” she said. “You're welcome to join us if you want.”

Val thought about it. She was no more ready to socialize with Jamey than she was to confront her father. “Daddy wouldn't like it if I didn't have supper with him,” she said. “We haven't really eaten together in days. But I'd still like to visit a little bit this afternoon.”

“Fine,” Kit said. “We can talk about my bedroom.”

“What about your bedroom?” Val asked.

“Pop and I were talking about it last night,” Kit replied. “And he said if I had to buy a new mattress, maybe I should get a new bed to go with it. And I kind of mentioned having outgrown the wallpaper, you know how Mother likes that little girly stuff for me, and Pop just laughed and said if I wanted, I could have my whole room redone while Mother was at the clinic. She's going to be there for at least a month, so there's plenty of time. I'd really like your help.”

“What do I know about decorating?” Val asked, but she was pleased to be included.

“At least as much as Pop and I do,” Kit said. “I thought you might want to ask Rick if you could redo your room too. We're sixteen now. It's about time our bedrooms looked it.”

“I like my room,” Val said. “I don't want to change it. Besides …”

“Besides what?” Kit asked.

Val wasn't sure how to put it. “I don't know where I'm going to end up,” she finally said.

“Where do you think you're going to end up?” Kit asked. “At the orphan home? Rick's your father no matter how you started out. And he's going to stay your father for the rest of your life.”

“Has Jamey said something to you?” Val asked. “About the adoption?”

“Not a word,” Kit said. “But I've known you and Rick both long enough to know nothing bad's going to happen to you. Just talk to him, Val, and get it over with. I'm sure he has a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

Val looked down at her lasagne. “What does Jamey say about him?” she asked. “When Daddy has a legal problem, I mean. What does Jamey tell you?”

“Nothing,” Kit said. “He just works later hours.”

“What does he tell Amanda then?” Val said. “When he thinks you aren't listening.”

“Pop doesn't talk about his work,” Kit replied. “Sometimes he'll say he had a hard day, or he'll mention having to deal with someone he doesn't like, but that's it. You want to find out about Rick's business, you're going to have to ask him directly.”

“Do you remember when Sister Anne made us all say ‘Mr. Castaladi is a respectable businessman'?” Val asked.

“Back in second grade?” Kit said. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I thought about that yesterday,” Val said. “About how Shannon O'Roarke left school so suddenly.”

“Her father got transferred to Detroit,” Kit said. “Kevin told me all about it when it happened. There were three or four O'Rourke kids, and Kevin was in the same grade as one of them. Kevin said Mr. O'Roarke got transferred to Detroit, and his wife didn't want to go, but Mr. O'Roarke said someone put a lot of pressure on his boss to see to it he got transferred someplace far away. And Kevin asked the O'Roarke kid why he was telling him that, and the kid said because Pop always did the dirty work …”

“For Rick Castaladi,” Val said.

Kit nodded. “Kevin hates Pop,” she said. “He has for as long as I can remember. He probably made the whole story up just so I'd hate Pop too.”

“Kevin doesn't have that much imagination,” Val said.

Kit looked around the lunchroom. “You don't want to talk about this here,” she said. “Let's wait until we get to my house.”

“Okay,” Val said. Not that it mattered. Every girl at Most Precious Blood probably had a similar story to tell. No wonder there were so many houses she was excluded from. She felt so dirty right then, she agreed with all those righteous mothers.

She made it through the rest of the school day, and was glad when the final bell rang, and she could escape to Kit's. Bruno met them in front of the school grounds, and Val told him where to drive them.

“When you want to go home, be sure to call,” Bruno said. “No more little walks, okay?”

“I'll call,” Val said.

Kit laughed. Val was too peeved to ask what was so funny. Besides, she was sure she didn't want to hear the answer.

Kit unlocked the door, called to Bruno that everything was fine, and let Val in. Val noticed right away that the slashed paintings were gone.

“Pop took them to see if they could be repaired,” Kit said, taking Val's jacket. “Sometimes canvas can be sewn.”

“That would be great,” Val said. “I miss those paintings.”

“So does Pop,” Kit replied. “But I'm not going to miss the wallpaper in my bedroom. Come on up. Let's analyze.”

Val followed her friend upstairs. Kit's room was familiar and dear to her, but she knew she couldn't keep Kit from growing up. “What's that?” she asked, pointing to the bedroom door.

Kit blushed. “It's a lock,” she said. “Pop had a locksmith come over yesterday to put it in. He was afraid if he postponed it, he'd forget.”

“What do you need a lock for?” Val asked.

“In case Mother really goes crazy next time,” Kit said. “Mistakes me for a mattress. You know.”

Val sank onto the soon-to-be-replaced bed. “Amanda wouldn't do that,” she said.

“I don't think so either,” Kit replied. “But I wasn't about to argue with Pop. Not when he was offering to redo my whole room. What do you think about yellow?”

“I like it,” Val said. “Nice and cheerful.”

“You don't think it's too cheerful, do you?” Kit asked. “I just haven't been feeling somber the past couple of days. But I might once Mother comes back. Maybe I should pick a lower-keyed color, just to be prepared.”

“I'm glad one of us is happy,” Val said.