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I WAS LATERthan usual getting home, yet much earlier than I’d told Mary Catherine to expect me. I liked the little wave of surprise that ran through the kids when I walked through the door just as everyone was starting to eat dinner. Those smiles would stick in my memory forever.
I smelled chicken cacciatore. That meant Ricky had probably made it. Mary Catherine liked more traditional meat-and-potatoes dishes. Ricky was a great cook who specialized in spicier Italian and even Cajun cuisine.
I took a moment to run around the table and greet each kid individually. Then I gave Mary Catherine a kiss on the lips, earning us groans from just about every kid under sixteen.
Then I made sure to give my grandfather a hug. I hoped his presence here meant that he was getting a handle on all the extra work he’d taken on around the parish.
My grandfather made the kids sit still while he said a second prayer before I could eat.
Seamus said, “Dear Father in heaven, please bless the food that my grandson is about to receive. Protect him during the day and bless him in the evening. Amen.”
In prayer, my grandfather always knows exactly what to say. He had touched on something I feel strongly about: my blessings at home. No matter what happens during the day, when I come home to these beautiful, smiling faces, I always thank God for the wonderful blessing. It’s nothing I’ve ever said specifically to my grandfather. But he knows. Everyone knows.
I listened intently to each kid as they talked about their day. Sure, Juliana and Brian had days that were more similar to mine than the younger kids. Juliana was taking an acting class as well as her academic classes at City College. Brian was working hard at the air-conditioning repair service. He was also taking a class at City College.
Chrissy told us about petting the class guinea pig until it fell asleep in her hand. Trent told us he’d aced a geometry exam and that Sister Mala had held up his test as an example for the other kids.
What I really wanted to hear about was whether the boys had been bullied today. I didn’t want to ask about it. I didn’t want to make it seem like the focus of the boys’ lives. But it concerned me. It concerned me a great deal.
I looked over at Fiona and said, “Did you get a chance to practice free throws?”
She nodded excitedly. “Then I played Horse with Trent, Ricky, and Eddie. I beat all three of them and only had anH.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I looked at the boys. You would’ve thought they’d been caught stealing something the way they looked down at their plates and mumbled.
When Ricky looked up, I could still see the shade of the black eye he had from the run-in with the bullies a few days earlier. He said, “On the bright side, Fiona doesn’t punch us while we’re playing.”
That earned a few snickers around the table.
That’s when Shawna chimed in on the subject for the first time. “Boys think they have it so tough. Girls get bullied too. All the time. Especially online.”
Ricky reached up and touched his black eye. He winced and said, “I don’t think I’d mind getting bullied online as much as being bullied in person.”
That opened an interesting conversation around the dinner table.
Chapter41
THIS WAS THEkind of dinner conversation that most parents don’t get to hear. I had always taught the kids to be tolerant and respectful of other people’s opinions. This would be a good test of how effective I had been at getting that message across.
We all started to discuss the problem of bullying. Almost immediately the lines were drawn. The boys all wanted to act tough. The girls used reasoning. A classic gender schism.
Eddie said, “If our bullies didn’t carry guns, we’d have taught them a lesson.”
Jane calmly pointed out, “The first time they bothered you, I don’t remember hearing how super brave you were.” Her maturity made her calm delivery that much more devastating to the boys. All three of them sputtered for an answer, but nothing came out.
Bridget, normally quiet during these kinds of discussions, said, “I don’t understand why you didn’t just talk to the boys.”
Eddie groaned, then glared at his sister. “Believe me, they didn’t want to listen.”
Chrissy chimed in with “Why didn’t you just run away?”
Eddie appeared to be the official spokesman. He said, “Then the bullies win.”
“But you wouldn’t get beat up.” Shawna had offered it sincerely. “Who cares who wins?”
I got it. It was a tough situation. When I was their age, bullying had a different edge to it. There were rarely any weapons involved. Parents stepped in when things got out of hand. I remembered MatthewCallahan’s parents finding out he was taking lunch money from kids a grade younger than him. Matthew couldn’t sit comfortably for a day after his father paddled him for stealing and bullying. I’m not saying I agree with those kinds of parenting tactics. But there’s no denying that they occasionally got results.
Chrissy turned to my grandfather. She said, “Grandpa Seamus, what did you do in the olden days if someone was bullying you?”
