I don’t dignify this with a response. “Who else is coming?”

“The usual, plus her parents and my sister. That’s all probably.”

“Okay, Josh. But if she doesn’t know by next weekend . . .” I shake my finger at him.

He stands, nods. “Loud and clear, Molly. I’ll see you around.” There’s a glint in his eye that sends a shiver down my spine. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’ve gone from friends to enemies in the course of a week’s time.

CHAPTER 58 - Rita

CHAPTER 58

Rita

WHEN I PULL UP IN FRONT OF MY BUILDING, I SEE COLLIN SITTING on the stoop, smoking a cigarette. He said he was quitting for the new year, but it didn’t last. Hard to, I guess, when André is a smoker with no plans to give it up. Collin stubs his cigarette out quickly when he sees me coming up the walkway, as if I would scold him. I don’t want him smoking, of course, since it’s bad for his health, but he’s a grown man, young, but grown, and I understand that we all have our little weaknesses. We all find ways to survive.

I remember Ma and Dad when Ricky died in Vietnam. The extended family descended like locusts, and the house was full of the smells of brewing coffee and the sounds of whispered conversations. The bottle of whiskey Dad kept on a high shelf in a kitchen cupboard was quickly emptied, and one relative or another would slip out to the liquor store for reinforcements. The first couple of weeks went by in a blur, with a houseful of people shedding tears, laughing even, as they talked about Ricky. But then after the funeral, it was as though a dark blanket covered everything. The house was deadly quiet, the relatives gone. We all went back to school. My sisters made excuses to stay out late, part-time jobs, friends’ houses. But Danny, Jimmy, and I were too young for that, so we sat in their room and played Battleship for some reason, over and over again, until we were tired and cranky. My brothers would end up in a fight, wrestling on the floor, but at least fighting kept our minds off Ricky at least for a little while.

What we didn’t know in the weeks after Ricky died was that another tragedy was on the horizon. Another blow to the McMahon family, one that waited like a greedy beast not content with one brother. In the spring, Jimmy started to feel tired all the time, and after a trip to old Dr. Doyle, nothing would be the same.

“Hey, Rita.” Collin jumps up and holds the door for me. “How was work?”

“Fine. Busy.”

He follows me into the foyer. “You want to come in?” I ask.

“Yeah. I guess. For a minute.”