People kept stopping by the table to pay their respects to PJâs grandmother, and Richard Armstrong had delivered their desserts on the house. An elderly, very dapper man named Mr. Levitt had congratulated PJ on winning the Joseph J. Stoker House job and said he remembered the place from when he was very small. Would PJ like to borrow some photographs of the gardens before they had entirely gone to weed? PJ had thanked the man profusely, as had Mary Bernadette. âIâve known him since I first came to Oliverâs Well,â she explained when Mr. Levitt had moved off. âAnd he was ancient even then.â
And Mary Bernadette had been right about the steak. It was fantastic. Still, next time they went to The Angry Squire, Alexis was going to have the lamb come hell or high water, as she had heard Mary Bernadette say often enough. It was probably an expression she had come across in the bible, maybe something to do with Noah.
God, Alexis thought, the womanâs voice is everywhere! No doubt about it, she had never met anyone even remotely like PJâs formidable grandmother. There certainly were no such people in her family. Alexis was an only child. Neither her father nor her mother had any siblings, and all of her grandparents had died before Alexis was born. But her parents had always been enough family for Alexis. They had encouraged her to feel good about herself, and she had grown up to expect a certain amount of attention and respect as her due.
Alexis glanced down at the new pair of jeans she was wearing. They had cost her $150. Well, they had cost her parents $150. Every month they sent her a substantial check. She had never mentioned this to PJ. The truth was that Trenouths werenât thrilled that Alexis was working as an office manager for a small family when she could have set her sights on a real career with a real income. If she had wanted to, of course, and that was the thing. Alexis hadnât wanted to and she still didnât want to. She was happy working for Fitzgibbon Landscaping. It kept her close to her husband and what he loved mostâhis family.
And that was something else Alexisâs parents simply couldnât understand: her intense attraction to the Fitzgibbon clan. From the start of her relationship with PJ she had been drawn to the âothernessâ of the Fitzgibbons. Their passionate membership in the Catholic Church excited her. She liked the fact that the Church provided landmarks by which a person could mark his progress through life. She liked the fact that those landmarks were marked by ceremony. When a child was born he was baptized; his godparents gave him a cross and there was a party in his honor. Later came the occasion of his First Confession, and then his First Holy Communion, and then his confirmation, which involved the choosing of a sponsor and a ânewâ name to mark the passage into Christian adulthood and responsibility. All of this struck Alexis as fascinating, possibly because her own family had never identified with an ethnic or a religious group. What Alexis knew of organized religion she had gleaned from her studies of art and history and philosophy. But then she had met PJ and had chosen to join him in his faith.
Alexis touched the cross of St. Brigid resting against her chest. Though she had converted to Catholicism for her husband, she couldnât say that she really believed in all of the Churchâs teachings. She did enjoy the pomp and circumstance of the mass; the sheer theatricality of the ancient ceremonial and ritualistic practices appealed to her artistic nature. True, some bits were very puzzling, like the sacrament of the Eucharist. From what Alexis understood (and she knew that her understanding might be faulty), you were supposed to believe that you were incorporating the actual body and blood of Christ when you received the host and the Communion wine. She found the notion bizarre, though she would never
And Mary Bernadette had been right about the steak. It was fantastic. Still, next time they went to The Angry Squire, Alexis was going to have the lamb come hell or high water, as she had heard Mary Bernadette say often enough. It was probably an expression she had come across in the bible, maybe something to do with Noah.
God, Alexis thought, the womanâs voice is everywhere! No doubt about it, she had never met anyone even remotely like PJâs formidable grandmother. There certainly were no such people in her family. Alexis was an only child. Neither her father nor her mother had any siblings, and all of her grandparents had died before Alexis was born. But her parents had always been enough family for Alexis. They had encouraged her to feel good about herself, and she had grown up to expect a certain amount of attention and respect as her due.
Alexis glanced down at the new pair of jeans she was wearing. They had cost her $150. Well, they had cost her parents $150. Every month they sent her a substantial check. She had never mentioned this to PJ. The truth was that Trenouths werenât thrilled that Alexis was working as an office manager for a small family when she could have set her sights on a real career with a real income. If she had wanted to, of course, and that was the thing. Alexis hadnât wanted to and she still didnât want to. She was happy working for Fitzgibbon Landscaping. It kept her close to her husband and what he loved mostâhis family.
And that was something else Alexisâs parents simply couldnât understand: her intense attraction to the Fitzgibbon clan. From the start of her relationship with PJ she had been drawn to the âothernessâ of the Fitzgibbons. Their passionate membership in the Catholic Church excited her. She liked the fact that the Church provided landmarks by which a person could mark his progress through life. She liked the fact that those landmarks were marked by ceremony. When a child was born he was baptized; his godparents gave him a cross and there was a party in his honor. Later came the occasion of his First Confession, and then his First Holy Communion, and then his confirmation, which involved the choosing of a sponsor and a ânewâ name to mark the passage into Christian adulthood and responsibility. All of this struck Alexis as fascinating, possibly because her own family had never identified with an ethnic or a religious group. What Alexis knew of organized religion she had gleaned from her studies of art and history and philosophy. But then she had met PJ and had chosen to join him in his faith.
Alexis touched the cross of St. Brigid resting against her chest. Though she had converted to Catholicism for her husband, she couldnât say that she really believed in all of the Churchâs teachings. She did enjoy the pomp and circumstance of the mass; the sheer theatricality of the ancient ceremonial and ritualistic practices appealed to her artistic nature. True, some bits were very puzzling, like the sacrament of the Eucharist. From what Alexis understood (and she knew that her understanding might be faulty), you were supposed to believe that you were incorporating the actual body and blood of Christ when you received the host and the Communion wine. She found the notion bizarre, though she would never
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