Once We Were Brothers (42 page)

Catherine, in a curve-hugging black cashmere dress with a plunging neckline, walked in from the kitchen, bringing a tray of appetizers.

“Wow. You look fabulous,” Liam said. “You didn’t tell me to dress up.” Looking meekly down at his wool sport coat and turtleneck, he added, “I’m totally underdressed.”

“You’re fine. I just felt like getting a little spiffy.”

Her meal, all four courses, was culinary perfection. Finishing his dessert of apple tartlets and patting his belly, Liam said, “This was extraordinary! When you asked me to come for dinner….” He stopped short. “Well, I mean I didn’t….We’ll, it’s not that I think you
couldn’t
…. Or that you would just make….” He shrugged. “There’s no gracious way out of this, is there?”

Catherine laughed. She covered Liam’s hand with hers and said, “I wanted to make us a nice dinner. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.”

Liam waved her off. “It’s okay.”

“No. I’ve been distant since the night we spent together. I know you thought we had turned a corner, and you had a right to think that. You
do
have a right to think that. But this is such a crazy time in my life. I’m working through some tough issues. Don’t give up on me.”

“I’m okay with it.”

She stood and smiled brightly. “I have something for you under the tree.” She took his hand and led him to the living room where she reached beneath the tree and held out a gaily decorated box with both hands.

“Merry Christmas.”

She stood over him while he carefully unwrapped the gift that she had purchased two weeks earlier. Like a child, his entire face broke into a smile and he looked up at Catherine. “What a thoughtful gift. I’ve been lusting for a new camera. How did you know?”

“I thought you could take this with you to Poland next month,” she said. “You can return it if it’s not what you would buy.”

“Why do people always say that? It’s ideal. It’s exactly what I would buy, if I was reckless enough to splurge on myself.”

Catherine smiled proudly. “I’m happy you like it.”

“I have something for you, and don’t say, ‘Oh you shouldn’t have.’”

“Okay. I promise,” she said, sitting down and crossing her hands in her lap.

Liam walked to the front hall closet and retrieved a small square box, unmistakably from a jewelry store. He handed it to Catherine, who tensed noticeably and turned quite serious.

She shook her head and held out the box. “Liam, I can’t….”

“Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not that. Open it.”

With an anxious look on her face, Catherine slowly opened the box. Inside was a set of designer gold drop earrings.

“They’re beautiful!” she exclaimed, with joyous relief. “I was thinking…oh, never mind. I love them.”

They sat together by the tree, had an after-dinner cordial and laughed at a few funny memories. After a while, Catherine looked at her watch.

“Liam, it’s eleven o’clock. I would very much like to go to midnight mass. Would you take me?”

“Seriously? I mean, sure, if you want to. Is this a regular thing for you?”

“No. But I really would like to go tonight.”

“Okay.” He smiled and shrugged. “Where is your neighborhood church?”

“I want to go downtown. To Holy Name Cathedral.”

“Whoa. That’s big time. Doesn’t the Cardinal serve the mass? I think you have to have tickets.”

“You don’t have to, you can stand in line. After the people with tickets are seated, they let the general public in.”

“Have you done this before?” he asked as they grabbed their coats. “Holy Name on Christmas Eve?”

“I never have. But given everything that’s gone on recently, I feel a need to go tonight.”

* * *

Chicago’s amber streetlights set the snow-coated city aglow. Filled with holiday spirit, Liam and Catherine approached the cathedral, arm in arm. A long line snaked from the cathedral door, around the corner and alongside the large, gothic structure with its two hundred foot spire.

Slowly shuffling forward, they entered through the massive bronze doors where they were ushered into one of the side pews. The interior was a feast for eyes and ears. Lights and candles sparkled brightly. The choir and brass ensemble mixed sonorously with the buzz of fifteen hundred worshippers, irreverently discordant but joyfully Christmas. Visiting Holy Name for the first time, Liam took in all its visual majesty – the bronze sculptures lining the walls, the red and black altar with its bronze bas-relief scenes from the Old Testament, and high up, above the cathedra, the five red galeros, the wide brimmed tasseled hats of Chicago’s five deceased cardinals. “If you’re going to do midnight mass,” he said quietly, “no sense going halfway.”

Throughout the mass, Catherine seemed to be deeply involved in her prayers, but during the homily, Liam noticed that she kept turning around to look at the front vestibule. She appeared to be upset and sporadically shivered. Finally, he whispered, “What are you looking at?”

“At ghosts, Liam,” she said sadly. “I’m looking at Abraham Solomon and Father Janofsky. I’m looking at a group of frightened, huddled nuns. They’re all here. Over there in the vestibule. I can see them. It’s just like St. Mary’s Ascension Church.”

Liam patted her leg. “No it’s not, Cat. It’s long ago and far away. A whole different world. This is Chicago and it’s 2004, and that criminal insanity will never happen again.”

“It’s not so far away.” She shook her head. “Not for me. And like Ben says, don’t think we’re ever immune to such insanity.” Her eyes were misted. “You don’t know – I haven’t told you everything.” Her lips quivered. “Piatek and the others. What gave them the right? All those innocent people.”

Liam squeezed her hand and held it tightly throughout the remainder of the mass which concluded at 1:30 a.m. with the singing of “Joy to the World.” With their hefty portions of spiritual nourishment, the worshippers filed out into the bright, clean winter night.

At the bottom of the steps, Catherine stopped short and pointed across the street.

“Liam, that man selling chestnuts from his cart – that vendor – it’s Ben!”

Liam peered through the snow. “I’m sure it’s not Ben. You’re seeing things tonight.” He took Catherine’s hand and led her across the street where they took their place in the small line waiting for roasted chestnuts. The vendor wore a coat layered over two sweaters and his head was covered with a wide-brimmed Italian fedora. Catherine stooped to get a glimpse of his face. He winked at her.

“Evenin’ missy,” he said.

“We’ll have two bags, please,” Liam said, placing a ten dollar bill in his coffee can. “Your name wouldn’t be Solomon, would it?” he added with a smile.

The vendor handed two bags to Liam. “No, sir. It’s Andolini.” His face curled in a wide grin. “You and the pretty lady, you have a merry Christmas. Be thankful for each other. I’m sure your Christmas wishes will come true.”

Catherine whispered to Liam, “Why did he say that? What does he know about my Christmas wishes? Liam, this is ethereal. It’s ghostly. I’m looking through windows to another world.”

“Stop. He meant nothing more than Merry Christmas. Relax, Cat. You’re suffering from emotional overload.”

“I’m not so sure.”

* * *

Back at her townhome, Catherine brewed some Irish coffee and served it by the fire. After a bit, Liam set down his cup and loudly cleared his throat. He grabbed an invisible microphone and in a rough imitation of Dean Martin, sang, “Here comes the jackpot question in advance. What’re you doing New Years, New Years Eve?”

He stopped and raised his eyebrows. Catherine laughed. “Kinda late to ask a girl out for New Year’s, don’t you think? Did you expect me to wait around forever?”

“It snuck up on me.”

She kissed him. “I accept. What do you have in mind?”

“I thought we’d go back to Ambria, where this whole thing got started last fall.”

Catherine laughed. “Liam, they’ve been booked for weeks, maybe months.”

“I got connections.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I have to buy a dress. You didn’t give me much time.”

“I think the stores are all closed tonight, Cat. Besides, I have a more enticing alternative, if I can interest you.”

“You want to tempt the fates again?”

“I’m a risk-taker.”

He took her hand and led her toward the stairs. She kicked off her shoes and flipped off the lights. Arms around each other, they climbed the stairs singing
What Are You Doing New Years
Eve
.

Chapter Forty-eight

Chicago, Illinois January 2005

The throws-of-winter winds made a howling noise outside Catherine’s study, rattling the windows and creaking the walls as she sat staring at her computer screen. Her long internet research session and preparation for Rosenzweig’s deposition were blurring her eyes. Her mind drifted to thoughts of the holidays, which had been pleasant for the first time in years. But now the holidays were over and Liam was gone and she felt the pressure of the lawsuit. There was a lot she’d wanted to say to him before he boarded the plane to Poland and it troubled her that it remained unsaid.

The ring of her telephone interrupted her reveries. “Morning, Cat. It’s your on-the-scene world traveler.”

Her face brightened at Liam’s upbeat greeting.

“You should see Zamość,” he continued. “It’s just like Ben described, a little pastel village. It bears few scars from the war. From Ben’s story, I feel like I’ve been here before. I went to the town hall, I even went by Ben’s old house on Belvederski, but I gotta tell you, it’s eerie.

“And the language,” Liam said. “I’m in big trouble here – hardly anyone speaks English. I bought a Berlitz phrase book, but it’s totally useless – I can’t pronounce or understand a single word. There are way too many consonants and not enough vowels.”

“It’s good to hear your voice,” she said. “Things have been kinda rough for me. I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there too. Do you need a friend to commiserate with?”

“More than that, Liam,” she said softly. “It’s way more than that, and you know it.” She paused. The line was silent.

“Cat? Cat, are you there?”

“When do you get back, Liam?”

“Wednesday night, January 12th. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know…I need you. I really miss you. I can’t wait until Wednesday.”

“That’s good to hear. I miss you, too.”

“I don’t know if it’s good or not. I just know I do. Liam, I just want us to be together.”

“It’s what I want too. Only today, I’m four thousand miles away. And don’t forget it was you that sent me.”

“I meant to tell you the other night before you left that I was sorry about how I pushed you away after Thanksgiving. I worry that you think I’ll do it again.”

“Cat, you don’t need to apologize again. Remember Christmas Eve? New Years Eve? Things are good.”

“But I don’t want you to lose faith in me. All my old insecurities are getting in the way and, well…I just want you to know I don’t have any more hesitations. Liam, I want a love like Ben and Hannah. One for all time. We can do that, Liam. I want you to come home and dance with me.”

“You are in a bad way if you want me to dance with you.”

“Stop joking, I’m serious.”

“I’m sorry. It’s what I want too, Cat. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I’ll come home as soon as I can. Wednesday night.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport. Liam, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I guess I should ask, how did the records depositions go?”

“We checked the Zamość records this afternoon but either the Russians or the Germans destroyed all the old records, so all we have is birth, death, marriage, and burial records since 1946 and there’s no mention of Piatek or Solomon.”

“I didn’t expect you to find anything.”

“Before we came here we were in Warsaw and, as anticipated, there were no records there, either. The city was leveled by the Germans in October 1944 at the end of the Warsaw uprising. So all of our examinations in Poland have come up with a big zero.”

“Are you finished with the document depositions?”

“Nope. We still have to go to Frankfurt on Tuesday. In the meantime, I’m going to poke around Zamość and see what I can dig up. How did Ben’s deposition go?”

“Not good. Jeffers kept coming at him, like a boxer, backing him into the ropes, demanding that he produce proof of his allegations. He took him through his story, stopping him every few minutes, asking, ‘What the heck does that have to do with
my
client?’ At the end, it all boiled down to Ben’s uncorroborated belief that Rosenzweig is Piatek.”

“That’s tough. Was Rosenzweig present?”

“No, just Jeffers and his two assistants. Come back soon, will you?”

“As soon as I can. By the way, what was the name of the family that moved into Grandpa Yaakov’s farm?”