Answered Prayers (17 page)

“Thank you for coming here with me,” she whispered. She'd been to church earlier that week, but it meant more to her now, because he was here, as though their combined prayers were more powerful, as though it meant more to pray for Jack with him.

Brad was silent as he followed her outside, deeply moved. It had been years since he'd been to church, and he was surprised by how much it had just meant to him, or maybe it was just going with her, and the memories it stirred, of the three of them.

“Do you still have your rosary?” he asked, as they walked down the steps of St. Patrick's hand in hand. He felt even closer to her than he had in a long time, as though she were his sister now too, his blood, and not simply his friend.

“Yes.”

“Do you still say them?” He had always been fascinated by it when she was a young girl. He liked the rituals and the pageantry. Jack used to tease him about it and say he should convert and become a priest.

“Sometimes. More in the last few years, because of Jack. Sometimes I just stop in at church and pray for him.” Brad nodded, not wanting to ask her why, or just what exactly she thought it did. For him, it was enough that she wanted to, and that it made sense to her. It always had. She had even said once or twice as a little girl that she wanted to be a nun. But Jack hated the idea and told her to forget about it. And as time went on, and she grew up, she was far more interested in having babies and getting married, which seemed healthier to him.

“Do you and Pam ever go to church?” she asked as they stood on Fifth Avenue. It was time to take her home, but he hated to leave.

He smiled at her question. “Pam is a confirmed atheist, or agnostic, I'm never sure which. She firmly believes there is no God.” He said it simply, without judging her. It was just who she was, and what she believed. His own beliefs had always been a little vague as to their form, but he did believe in God.

“How sad,” Faith said, and Brad smiled down at her. There was something so pure about Faith sometimes, he loved that in her, and had when she was a little girl. “What about the boys?”

“I don't think they're sure, or care much either way. I haven't exactly taken their religious life in hand. I just figured they'd do what they want one day. I haven't been in church in years. Do you and Alex go to church?”

“He's Episcopalian like you, and never goes. I don't think he's an atheist. He just hates going to church and thinks it's a waste of time. He thinks it's something women do. And the girls never want to go, except to light a candle for someone once in a while.”

“I always thought that was magical, when we were kids. Like making a wish. I always believed all prayers were answered. I think your mother told me that they were.” She had been a deeply religious woman, which had gotten her through a lot of her unhappiness being married to Charles in the early years, and her first husband before that, although she never admitted to being unhappy in either case. There had been a lot of secrets and denial in Faith's family in those days.

“I used to think all prayers were answered too,” Faith said sadly. Other people's, if not her own.

“And now?” Brad looked at her intently.

“Sometimes I'm not so sure.”

“Because of Jack?” he asked softly, looking into her eyes in the crisp December night, as their breath shot out plumes of frost in the cold air. She nodded in answer. “You know, it's funny. I'm not religious. I never have been. I never really went to church, except with you two and your mom, when we were kids. But I still believe what she told me, about all prayers being answered.”

Faith looked sober as she pondered what he'd said. “I wish I were as sure.” Life was no longer as simple as it had seemed then. Even in the worst moments of her life, she had relied on her faith.

“I still think they are.” There was a lump in his throat as he said it, and she couldn't tell if the tears in his eyes were from the cold or something else. “And I think Jack would think so too.”

Faith didn't answer him, she only nodded. She tucked a hand in his arm then, and they walked slowly up Fifth Avenue, not saying a word.

10

B
RAD LEFT NEW YORK ON
F
RIDAY AFTERNOON, THE DAY
after they'd gone skating. He called her in the morning to tell her how stiff and achy he was, and how he could hardly get out of bed in his hotel. But he had never had a better time. He wanted to stop by the house and say good-bye to her, but as it turned out, he didn't have time, and had to rush to make his plane. He called her from the airport instead.

“I wanted to give you a hug and wish you a Merry Christmas, Fred,” he said sadly. He was disappointed not to see her one last time. “I had such a good time last night. The best ever. We'll have to do it again the next time I come to town,” but he had no plans. And he seldom came to New York anymore, except for conferences like the one he'd attended. When he worked for his father-in-law's firm, he had come all the time.

“I had a great time too,” she said, feeling nostalgic. It had been so wonderful seeing him, and now that he was going back to California, it was like saying good-bye to part of Jack again. “I'm glad we went to St. Patrick's.”

“So am I. Maybe I'll go light a candle for him sometime in San Francisco. I believe in that. It still seems special.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I'll light one for you at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Usually I can get Zoe to come to that with me.” It made Brad think he should do that instead of Pam's Christmas dinner. But on Christmas Eve they didn't do much. They usually had dinner at her father's, and then came home and went to bed. With the boys away, they had decided not to have a Christmas tree that year.

“When is Zoe coming home?” He had forgotten, but he knew it was in the next few days. And Alex was due home the next day. Brad had come into the house the night before for a few minutes, when he dropped her off. And Faith had shown him the study where she kept her computer and wrote him e-mails. It was a small cozy room full of photographs and what she called sentimental debris. But he liked seeing where she wrote to him. He could visualize her that way.

“Zoe will be home tonight,” she answered him, when he called from the airport. “Things will get crazy after that. Kids in and out of the house at all hours, clothes everywhere, and pizzas delivered in the middle of the night.”

“I really miss that these days,” he said, sounding sad. He would have liked to see her again. “I'll call you over the weekend. I'll be in the office both days. Take care of yourself, Fred.”

“You too. And thanks for two wonderful evenings. I loved it.”

“So did I.” They announced his plane then, and he had to go. “Light a candle for me the next time you go to church. I can always use some extra help.”

“I'll do that. Have a good flight,” she said as he hurried off the phone, and then she sat, thinking of him. It was so odd having him back in her life, and wonderful. It was a real gift. Seeing him had been the best of all possible Christmas presents, except if Ellie had come home. She still had to tell Zoe her sister was going to Switzerland for the holidays. But all she could think of now was the time she had just spent with Brad, and what it had meant to her. Their conversation over both dinners had been meaningful, and she had loved skating with him. It was amazing how easily they still opened up to each other, just like the old days, only better, because they were wiser now. It was so comfortable talking to him. In some ways, he was even easier to talk to than Jack had been. They had always disagreed about things like their mother's marriage, Faith had seen her as lonely and unhappy all her life, while Jack thought Charlie was a decent guy and his sister was too critical of him. And they had never seen eye to eye about their respective mates. She hadn't liked Debbie, and he had hated Alex. But there were no loyalties at issue with Brad, and they saw most things the same way, from the same side. It made her sad to realize how much he had compromised in his marriage. And she felt sorry for him. Pam sounded like the wrong woman for him, but it was obvious that he was entrenched for life. It was noble of him, but seemed misguided somehow, to her at least. But he might have said the same thing about Alex. Neither of them were easy marriages or mates, but they were whom and what they had chosen, and had decided to stand by. She respected him for it, and at the same time, pitied him.

She sent him an e-mail that night, thanking him for the dinners, and the skating. And just as she sent it, Zoe walked in, with four suitcases, her tennis racket, a camera bag, and her computer under one arm. She dumped it all in the front hall and walked into the kitchen. She was pouring herself a glass of milk as her mother walked in.

“Welcome home.” Faith put her arms around her and gave her a warm hug, and offered to make her something to eat, but she said she'd had a sandwich in the airport on the way home. She helped herself to some ice cream, and sat down on the kitchen table with a grin, as Faith smiled at her.

“This is a sight for sore eyes. It sure is good to have you here.” She was home for three weeks, and Faith was thrilled.

“Feels good to be here too,” she grinned, polishing off the vanilla ice cream. “When's Ellie coming home?” she asked as Faith's face clouded visibly.

“She's not. She's going to Switzerland, to Saint Moritz, to ski with Geoff and his family.”

“Are you serious?” Zoe looked stunned. “Is she going to marry him?” It was the only reason she could think of for Eloise not to come home, meeting her in-laws, or staying in Europe to get engaged.

“Not that I know of. She just wanted to do it for the fun of it.”

“And you let her, Mom?” Zoe couldn't get over it. The holidays were important to Faith, and Zoe couldn't imagine her mother letting her older sister off the hook that easily, but Faith wouldn't have, if Alex hadn't said she could.

“She called Dad first apparently, and he told her it was all right with him. So I let her get away with it this time, but I told her next year is mandatory. So don't get any ideas.” Faith wagged a finger at her, and Zoe grinned.

“Don't worry, Mom. I'm not going anywhere. But it'll be weird not having her here.” Zoe looked sad suddenly. It was hard to imagine Christmas without her sister, even if they didn't always get along with each other. It was going to seem very strange, and a little sad.

“I know it will,” Faith agreed. “You get to be an only child for three weeks.” Zoe's face brightened at that.

“Actually, that sounds pretty good. Where's Dad, by the way?”

“Flying home from California. He'll be back in a few hours.” He had called from the airport to say he was coming home a day early, and said he was bone tired.

“I just wondered,” Zoe said as she picked up the phone. Half an hour later, she was in her room, unpacking and dropping clothes all over the floor, her computer was set up, the front doorbell rang three times, and her best friends from high school had arrived. A pizza followed suit an hour later, and by the time Alex came home, there was loud music playing, the girls were laughing, and Zoe said they were going out. Utter chaos reigned, and Faith looked ecstatic, as Alex walked into their bedroom with a groan.

“We've been taken over by Martians,” he complained. “The pizza delivery boy was going out as I came in. There was someone else delivering Chinese food, Zoe just borrowed a hundred dollars, and there are about two hundred girls in her room. I'd nearly forgotten what it's like when she's home. How long is her Christmas break?” He looked exhausted and desperate, and Faith had just turned off Zoe's tub before it overflowed. But she loved the life Zoe brought to the house. It made Faith feel alive again just having her there.

“She'll be home for three weeks. How was your trip?”

“Exhausting. But peaceful by comparison. Do you think we could ask her to turn down the music, or should I just wear earplugs for the next three weeks? Was it always like this?” He looked overwhelmed.

“Yes. That's why I'm so bored when they're not here.” And then she looked at him, as he set down his briefcase, and collapsed in a chair.

“You didn't tell me you talked to Eloise about not coming home for Christmas.” She tried to keep accusation out of her tone, but it was obvious nonetheless that she wasn't pleased. And she hadn't talked to him all week while he was in L.A. He had never called, nor had she.

“I must have forgotten to mention it,” he said, looking vague.

“You could have said something to me before you agreed to let her do it. It put me on the spot when she called.”

“Is she coming home?” He didn't look so much guilty as concerned. Another body in the house at this point would have driven him insane. He'd forgotten what the girls were like when they were home.

“No, she's not. She told me you had told her she could stay over there. It didn't leave me much room to tell her she couldn't go to Saint Moritz, without looking like a real shit. So I said she could.”

“It'll be fun for her,” he said, taking off his shoes.

“I told her she can't do it again. I want the girls home for Christmas every year, no matter what, and if we don't set the precedent now, they never will. There will always be something more tempting than coming home.”

“She'll be fine,” he said, placating her.

“I know she will. But I'll miss her anyway,” Faith said, as the music in Zoe's room went up several decibels, and they heard a door slam.

“I won't,” Alex said honestly. “Besides, they didn't get along over Thanksgiving anyway. I figured it might do them good to be apart for a while.”

“It might have done them more good to see each other and make up,” Faith said stubbornly. She believed in the closeness of families and all that that entailed. And as she listened to him, she was reminded of all that she and Brad had said for the past two days. There were times when she and Alex were at opposite poles. In fact, most of the time.

“Do you suppose you can get Zoe to turn her music down? I'm going to go nuts if she keeps this up for three weeks,” he said, looking miserable, as he went to take a shower.

“Do you want dinner?” Faith asked over the din, as he paused in the bathroom doorway with an anguished expression.