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Brian followed me into the dining room, where we located the source of the crying: Jane, at the end of the table, sobbing hysterically into a very wet paper towel. Mary Catherine sat on one side of Jane, stroking her hair. Juliana sat on the other, holding a roll of paper towels. There was a pile of crumpled towels in the middle of the table.
In between sobs, Jane said, “I-I-I just can’t believe he would do this!”
I’d been around long enough to guess almost exactly what had happened.
Brian was still new to this game. He said, “What who did?”
Juliana looked up at her brother and explained, “Allan broke up with Jane. No notice, nothing. When she tried to talk to him, he just told her it was over.”
That set off a new round of wailing from Jane. “And-and we were supposed to go to the school dance this weekend!”
Brian muttered, “That asshole.”
Instinctively, I placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
Brian jerked away from my touch and stormed out of the room.
I stepped to the dining room table and gave Jane a kiss on the top of her head. I wished I were better at this kind of thing. I knew I’d have to deal with it a lot more as the girls got older. But I was at a loss. I did my best to teach the boys to always respect women, and at least, from the little bit I heard through gasps and crying, I didn’t get the impression Allan had been disrespectful. Just thoughtless. But I still wanted Jane to feel better.
The front door slammed. Hard. I looked at Mary Catherine. She said, “Has to be Brian.”
I rushed out the front door, but he had already caught the elevator down to the lobby. An angry Brian roaming the streets and hunting a clueless Allan Martin III made me very nervous.
Chapter 75
I told the girls I was going out to catch Brian. I grabbed my keys and raced downstairs. The doorman said Brian had turned left after he’d burst through the doors onto the street.
Sure, Jane was upset, but that was part of life. She’d get over her first breakup. I hoped Brian realized the same thing.
I couldn’t see him in either direction. I jogged toward the left. Now my imagination started to kick in. I felt my stomach begin to burn as I considered all the terrible things Brian could do to an unsuspecting high schooler.
Before I knew it, I was three blocks away from the apartment. I thought of the basketball courts a few blocks from here where Brian liked to hang out. I broke into an all-out run. This was not the family time I had envisioned.
A quick overview of the courts did not produce Brian. I was at a loss. Then I spotted one of the young men who coordinated the leagues.
“Have you seen Brian?” I asked.
“Not in a couple of days.”
I groaned in frustration.
“Have you checked Holy Name? I know he likes their courts. Don’t you guys have some relative who works there?”
I thanked him and burst into a sprint I didn’t realize I was capable of after my draining chase of Cedar. Clearly the bike riding with Mary Catherine had had more effect on me than I’d thought.
I slowed as I approached the church and called my grandfather. He didn’t answer. Seamus wasn’t big on cell phones. He thought they caused cancer. On several occasions he had claimed he would start using his cell phone around his ninetieth birthday. He figured by then it wouldn’t matter.
When I got to campus, I threaded my way through the courtyards that led to the basketball gym. A couple of the nuns tried to engage me in conversation. They were still full of questions about the wedding. I was as polite as possible without ever stopping, not even for a moment.
Brian was taking anger management classes, but he also had strong protective instincts. And right now, the two might be about to combust. If someone had wronged his sister, no training could keep that primal rage in check.
The image of a bloody Allan Martin III, beaten, or with a shiv stuck in his stomach, popped into my head. I could also imagine Allan’s father in court, disparaging my son as a bad influence and a danger to the Martin family. The final part of that equation was Brian being locked away like a rabid dog. I was panicked. It made me run faster. Much faster.
I burst through the doors on the upper deck of the gymnasium and heard the sounds of a pickup basketball game in progress. There were voices and a few hoots and hollers.
I froze at the sight of Brian playing one-on-one with Allan Martin. My other boys, Trent, Eddie, and Ricky, sat in the front row, cheering their brother on.
No one was dead. There wasn’t even any blood. I eased onto the very top bleacher. I realized my legs were shaky. I wasn’t sure if it was from the sprint or the fear I’d had about what Brian could’ve done.
