Prayer (28 page)

But she hadn’t been able to follow or understand the rituals. They appealed to her; she’d always felt comfort in routine, in knowing exactly how things were going to go, and the rituals obviously provided that. The parishioners knew what to do. There was a lot of standing and kneeling and sitting, and everybody seemed to know when it was time to speak, and everybody said the same thing.

She’d also noticed that not everyone got up to take communion, which disrupted her comfort in the routine. The few other churches she’d been to that did communion passed it around the pews, but the Catholics got up and stood in line—but some people remained in the pews, sitting or kneeling. She didn’t understand why.

And they didn’t finish the Lord’s Prayer. It was the one prayer she knew, and for Bev and Nick’s wedding, she’d embarrassed herself by continuing on with the next part when everyone else had gone silent. After that, she’d kept her mouth shut.

John had gone to the church the night before for confession, something he frequently did on Saturday evenings. For that, Katrynn was expressly not invited. Catholicism seemed a bit like a secret society. It had her intrigued—and a little intimidated, too.

By the time they ran up the steps and John held the door open for her, they were scant minutes from the beginning of the service. Katrynn stood at John’s side while he dipped his fingers into a font and crossed himself. At his nod, she followed his example, not sure what water—she assumed it was holy water—did for either of them.

He took her hand and led her all the way to the front of the church; then, as his family scooted down the pew for them, he genuflected and slid in. Katrynn sat at his side, not sure if she was also supposed to do that crouchy-kneely thing, too, but since he hadn’t indicated either way, she didn’t.

She caught Bev’s eye across the aisle and waved. Bev waved back. Nick gave her an amused nod.

She heard John mutter, “Sorry, Pop,” and turned to see Mr. Pagano giving him a decidedly disappointed parental glare. At John’s side, Joey snickered.

Then John pulled out a couple of booklets from the rack before them. He opened one to a point about halfway through and handed it to her.

“What is this?” she muttered, as the organ struck a chord and everybody stood.

“It’s a missalette. Like a program for the Mass.”

“Oh.”

Well, that changed everything.

All of the responses were there, and all of the things the priest said, too. When to stand, and kneel, and sit—all there. The entire ritual, laid out before her.

Almost the whole service was like that, all the way to the sermon—or, according to the missalette, the homily. And the words and acts of the ritual—what the priest said, what he and the altar boys did, what the worshippers said and did—it was all
beautiful
. Like poetry. The sentiment expressed was of unity and comfort, of mercy and support.

She loved it. She loved standing next to John and singing, she loved the child somewhere—she looked back and saw he was in the loft—singing over them all in a youthful soprano, she loved John’s stepmother’s tone-deaf enthusiasm. She loved discovering that Carmen and Teresa sang in perfect harmony with each other.

John leaned to her ear several times to explain what was going on, but she understood already. The missalette prepared her.

Even the homily was good. She’d expected some kind of political screed, but instead the message was about love and acceptance, about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, about always reserving judgment and never withholding love.

Jesus Christ! Katrynn giggled as those words leapt into her head. Well, yeah. Exactly. She felt good. She felt…warm. And
full
. She didn’t know if she could ever believe in heaven and a god hanging out with angels in the clouds, but she could get behind an hour once a week to feel this connected to the goodness in the world. It was like therapy.

There was more poetic praying, and there was even a part where everybody in the church turned and wished their neighbors peace, shaking hands or hugging each other. Then it was time for—she checked the missalette—the Eucharist and Communion.

After more beautiful ritual, with the priest holding up a wafer and a cup and intoning poetry, and the people in the pews responding, all the Paganos on their side stood. Across the aisle, Nick and his mother stood. Bev stayed seated with all three girls. Katrynn thought for a moment that she should cross over and help out, but then the aisle was full of people lining up at the altar.

She moved to stand in line, too, but John pulled her back. “No, baby. Just sit tight. We’ll be back.”

Then he stepped around her. People made way, and he genuflected and got in line. From her row and the one behind, Joey, Carlo, Sabina, Trey, Ben, Luca, Carmen, Teresa, Mr. Pagano, and Adele all followed John, doing the crouchy-kneely thing and getting in line.

Katrynn felt left out. But she sat and waited.

John was the first of their pew to return, and he came in from the other side. When he sat next to her, as he was putting the kneeler thingy back down and moving to his knees, he smiled and asked, “What?”

She hadn’t realized that she’d been giving him any kind of a meaningful look, but she answered honestly with the thought in her head and the feeling in her heart. “I think I’m having…an epiphany, I guess.”

His smile grew. “What do you mean?”

Before she could answer, Bev cried out, “Nick!” and there was a sudden commotion across the aisle. All of the Paganos stood again, and John leapt over Katrynn and pushed back the people still in line for communion.

Nick was on his feet, bent over Bev like a shield, talking earnestly to her. She nodded, and Nick made a beckoning gesture at a pew behind them and then handed Carina to his mother. His bodyguard, Sam, came forward, with another big man.

Nick helped Bev stand, and she doubled over with a gasp.

“Papa! My dress!” Lia yelled. “My dress!”

“Hush,
gattina
! Stay with Nonna.”

Bev’s water had broken all over the pew.

The entire sanctuary had gone completely still. John, standing in the aisle, asked, “What can we do?”

Nick shook his head, then stopped. “Take the girls?”

“Of course.”

Nick nodded a thanks, then said, “Ma. Come with us.”

Betty set the girls on their feet, and Katrynn held out her arms. Elisa and Lia trotted across, Elisa’s eyes wide with anxiety and Lia crying huge, Oscar-worthy tears about her dress. Katrynn crouched down and put her arms around them both. Nick took Carina from his mother and handed her to John.

Then Nick, Bev, Betty, and Sam rushed down the aisle, with Sam acting like a human bulldozer through the queued and gaping congregation. When Bev doubled over again, Nick swept her into his arms and carried her out of the church.

Which was just all kinds of romantic. In her current state of full-heartedness, Katrynn could have honestly swooned. She turned to John, who was still holding a sleepy Carina, her head resting on his shoulder.

Oh
God
, he looked perfect with that baby in his arms.

She stood up, taking the girls’ hands. “I love you so much.”

An enormous grin spread across John’s handsome face, and he put his free hand on the back of her head and kissed her completely—full tongue, right there in church, while he held the baby and she had the girls. The congregation, probably still stunned by Nick and Bev’s excitement, broke into cheerful applause.

“Well,” said the priest as things quieted down a bit. “I can’t think of a better way to celebrate God’s love than the coming of a new life and the expression of a new love. I think the Lord will forgive this interruption of the communion rite and allow us to take a moment and send up a petition for the delivery of a happy and healthy child to our friends Nick and Bev Pagano.”

Everyone bowed their heads. Katrynn did, too. She didn’t know how to pray—but she didn’t have to. Before she could form any prayerful words in her head, the priest spoke for everyone, all of them together.

~oOo~

St. Gabriel’s Hospital was chock full of Paganos for the rest of the day, while they waited for baby Ren to make his appearance.

They all settled in. Most of them still in their church clothes, they got as comfortable as they could, undoing ties and kicking off high heels. They played some kind of Italian card game that required a lot of yelling, and the kids played games—also with yelling—or colored or read. Carina surfed laps, and then Uncle Luca chased her around the Labor & Delivery wing until she passed out. When the kids started to get restless, the adults took turns entertaining them. They also took turns doing food and drink runs and checking on Bev’s progress.

Bev wanted no one but Nick with her, and he wanted his mother nearby, so everybody else hogged the waiting room. Any other families waiting for babies would have been welcomed, but the Paganos made an intimidating sight. Katrynn knew this firsthand. There was a coherence among them that, as friendly as most of them were, formed a kind of psychic wall. You felt it when you were on the outside.

And you felt it when you had been brought in.

Katrynn felt surrounded by this wonderful family. All day her heart had been so full it seemed stretched.

There were also other people hanging around, men looking like guards, but Katrynn had grown used to that, knowing Nick and Bev for so long. There were always people looking out for them.

Just before dinner time, Nick, wearing scrubs and looking tired and happy, came into the waiting room and crouched near his older daughters, who were stretched out on the floor, playing games on tablets. Manny and Theo had arrived with supplies and changes of clothes for all the kids, so the Drama of the Wet Dress had been resolved long ago.

“Come come, girls. Meet your brother.”

Elisa and Lia stood and ran to him “He’s here?” Elisa asked.

John’s father stood. “Nephew. All’s well?”

Holding hands with his girls, Nick stood and grinned. “Yes, Uncle. He’s perfect, and Beverly is comfortable and happy.”

The roomful of Paganos erupted in a cheer. Carina, sleeping on the floor in a nest of hospital blankets, started awake and began to scream. Katrynn went over and picked her up, then sat in a nearby chair and distracted the fussy miss with a board book.

When Nick took Elisa and Lia back to see their mother and new brother, the waiting room settled down again, but nobody made to leave. They all wanted their peek at the kid, Katrynn knew, and nobody seemed to have any thought that it might be intrusive to assume that they’d get it on his very first day of life.

Maybe it wasn’t intrusive. Maybe starting off life absolutely surrounded by family was a blessing.

John sat at her side, and Carina pulled the book from Katrynn’s hands and threw it at him. “BUK.”

He caught it. “You want me to read the story?”

Carina nodded, and John opened it to the first page. First, though, he smiled at Katrynn. It was the kind of meaningful look she supposed she’d given him earlier in church.

“What?” she asked, smiling back.

“Hey—I got an idea. How about you marry me?”

All that day’s swelling and stretching of her heart had not prepared Katrynn for the surge she felt at his words, and she burst into tears. Carina, seeing that there was obviously something worth crying about, joined in, and soon they had the full attention of the family.

“Psst,” John muttered, still smiling. “You have to actually say it. You promised.”

She knew. She had not forgotten. But she couldn’t get her throat to work. So she nodded instead until she could get the word out. “Yes! Yes!”