meantime, we need to pitch camp again. Get out the tents. This is where we stay.”
BOSTON
P SYCHOLOGISTS CALL IT RESISTANCE WHEN A PATIENT FAILS TO TURN UP on time because he doesn’t really want to address his problems. It also explained why Jane was late walking out her front door that morning; she really didn’t want to view Leon Gott’s autopsy. She took her time dressing her daughter in the same Red Sox T-shirt and grass-stained overalls that Regina had insisted on wearing for the past five days. They lingered too long over their breakfast of Lucky Charms and toast, which made them twenty minutes late walking out the apartment door. Add a traffic-choked drive to Revere, where Jane’s mother lived, and by the time she pulled up outside Angela’s house, Jane was a full half hour behind schedule.
Her mother’s house seemed smaller every year, as though it were shrinking with age. Walking up to the front door with Regina in tow, Jane saw that the porch needed fresh paint, the gutters were clogged with autumn leaves, and the perennials in front still needed to be clipped back for the winter. She’d have to get on the phone with her brothers and see if they could all pitch in for a weekend, because Angela obviously needed the help.
She could also use a good night’s sleep, thought Jane when Angela opened the front door. Jane was startled by how tired her mother looked. Everything about her seemed worn down, from her faded blouse to her baggy jeans. When Angela bent down to pick up Regina, Jane spotted gray roots on her mother’s scalp, a startling sight because Angela was meticulous about her hairdresser appointments. Was this the same woman who’d shown up at a restaurant just last summer wearing red lipstick and spike heels?
“Here’s my little pumpkin,” Angela cooed as she carried Regina into the house. “Nonna’s so glad to see you. Let’s go shopping today, why don’t we? Aren’t you tired of these dirty overalls? We’ll buy you something new and pretty.”
“Don’t like pretty!”
“A dress, what do you think? A fancy princess dress.”
“Don’t like princess.”
“But every girl wants to be a princess!”
“I think she’d rather be the frog,” said Jane.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, she’s just like you.” Angela sighed in frustration. “You wouldn’t let me put you in a dress, either.”
“Not everyone’s a princess, Ma.”
“Or ends up with Prince Charming,” muttered Angela as she walked away carrying her granddaughter.
Jane followed her into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to make some more coffee. You want some?”
“Ma, I can see that something’s going on.”
“You’ve gotta go to work.” Angela set Regina in her high chair. “Go, catch some bad guys.”
“Is it too much work for you, babysitting? You know you don’t have to do it. She’s old enough for day care now.”
“My granddaughter in day care? Not gonna happen.”
“Gabriel and I have been talking about it. You’ve already done so much for us, and we think you deserve a break. Enjoy your life.”
“ She is the one thing I look forward to every day,” said Angela,pointing to her granddaughter. “The one thing that keeps my mind off …”
“Dad?”
Angela turned away and began filling the coffee reservoir with water.
“Ever since he came back,” said Jane, “I haven’t seen you look happy. Not one single day.”
“It’s gotten so complicated, having to make a choice. I’m getting pulled back and forth, stretched like taffy. I wish someone would just tell me what to do, so I wouldn’t have to choose between them.”
“You’re the one who has to make the choice. Dad or Korsak. I think you should choose the man who makes you happy.”
Angela turned a tormented face to hers. “How can I be happy if I spend the rest of my life feeling guilty? Having your brothers tell me that I chose to break up the family?”
“You didn’t choose to walk out. Dad
BOSTON
P SYCHOLOGISTS CALL IT RESISTANCE WHEN A PATIENT FAILS TO TURN UP on time because he doesn’t really want to address his problems. It also explained why Jane was late walking out her front door that morning; she really didn’t want to view Leon Gott’s autopsy. She took her time dressing her daughter in the same Red Sox T-shirt and grass-stained overalls that Regina had insisted on wearing for the past five days. They lingered too long over their breakfast of Lucky Charms and toast, which made them twenty minutes late walking out the apartment door. Add a traffic-choked drive to Revere, where Jane’s mother lived, and by the time she pulled up outside Angela’s house, Jane was a full half hour behind schedule.
Her mother’s house seemed smaller every year, as though it were shrinking with age. Walking up to the front door with Regina in tow, Jane saw that the porch needed fresh paint, the gutters were clogged with autumn leaves, and the perennials in front still needed to be clipped back for the winter. She’d have to get on the phone with her brothers and see if they could all pitch in for a weekend, because Angela obviously needed the help.
She could also use a good night’s sleep, thought Jane when Angela opened the front door. Jane was startled by how tired her mother looked. Everything about her seemed worn down, from her faded blouse to her baggy jeans. When Angela bent down to pick up Regina, Jane spotted gray roots on her mother’s scalp, a startling sight because Angela was meticulous about her hairdresser appointments. Was this the same woman who’d shown up at a restaurant just last summer wearing red lipstick and spike heels?
“Here’s my little pumpkin,” Angela cooed as she carried Regina into the house. “Nonna’s so glad to see you. Let’s go shopping today, why don’t we? Aren’t you tired of these dirty overalls? We’ll buy you something new and pretty.”
“Don’t like pretty!”
“A dress, what do you think? A fancy princess dress.”
“Don’t like princess.”
“But every girl wants to be a princess!”
“I think she’d rather be the frog,” said Jane.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, she’s just like you.” Angela sighed in frustration. “You wouldn’t let me put you in a dress, either.”
“Not everyone’s a princess, Ma.”
“Or ends up with Prince Charming,” muttered Angela as she walked away carrying her granddaughter.
Jane followed her into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to make some more coffee. You want some?”
“Ma, I can see that something’s going on.”
“You’ve gotta go to work.” Angela set Regina in her high chair. “Go, catch some bad guys.”
“Is it too much work for you, babysitting? You know you don’t have to do it. She’s old enough for day care now.”
“My granddaughter in day care? Not gonna happen.”
“Gabriel and I have been talking about it. You’ve already done so much for us, and we think you deserve a break. Enjoy your life.”
“ She is the one thing I look forward to every day,” said Angela,pointing to her granddaughter. “The one thing that keeps my mind off …”
“Dad?”
Angela turned away and began filling the coffee reservoir with water.
“Ever since he came back,” said Jane, “I haven’t seen you look happy. Not one single day.”
“It’s gotten so complicated, having to make a choice. I’m getting pulled back and forth, stretched like taffy. I wish someone would just tell me what to do, so I wouldn’t have to choose between them.”
“You’re the one who has to make the choice. Dad or Korsak. I think you should choose the man who makes you happy.”
Angela turned a tormented face to hers. “How can I be happy if I spend the rest of my life feeling guilty? Having your brothers tell me that I chose to break up the family?”
“You didn’t choose to walk out. Dad
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