One Hundred Seventeen

“Where did they find him?  Did your anonymous tip pay off?”

“Yeah.”  Jon curled his hand over the nape of his neck, staring absently at the floor.  “Yeah, they found him in Philly at the hotel I told you about.”

“About fuckin’ time!  He’s in jail then?  Or…?”  He looked at Jon inquiringly.  He said the police found Felix – not that they’d found him FIRST.

Jon blew out a breath, blue eyes lifting from the floor to his friend’s face. “He’s dead,” he stated flatly.  “Apparent suicide.  The cop said it looked like he tried to hang himself at first, but screwed it up and finally just blew his brains out.”

Richie took a moment to absorb the news, vainly trying to feel remorse at the loss of a life.  This particular life had wreaked too much havoc in theirs to create anything but gratitude.  Allegra would never again have to see him or relive that night. 

It was finished.

“I can’t say I’m all that unhappy about the way things turned out.  Now she won’t have to go through the pain of a trial and the risk that some legal fluke will set him free.”

“No shit.”

The men were silent for a moment, both contemplating how to tell Allegra, and her potential reaction.

“You think she’ll take the news okay?” Jon finally asked.

Richie couldn’t be sure, but he THOUGHT she would.  It would have to be a huge weight off her mind.  They would convince her that everything had turned out for the best.

“She might be upset at first, but in her mind I’m sure it was all going to be over once he was caught.  She hadn’t acknowledged the months and months of legal, bureaucratic bullshit that would follow. When she realizes that she doesn’t have that ordeal in front of her now, I think she’ll just be grateful.”  Brown eyes met blue in unspoken understanding as they had many a time over the years.  “You know, that he did that to himself.”

“Yeah.  I hope so.”  He walked toward the door and held it open for Richie.  “Let’s go share our good fortune then, shall we?”

♥♫♥

Richie took his eyes off of traffic long enough to confirm that she was still asleep, curled up in the passenger seat of the Escalade.  They hadn’t been in the car more than ten minutes before she’d fallen asleep.  She still looked so tired.

He and Jon had returned to the kitchen, intent on sharing the news of Felix’s demise, to find Allegra and Dot seated at the table and talking quietly.

The moment her eyes lit on Richie, Allegra anxiously rose to her feet.  “What’s the matter?”

A hint of dimple appeared and he wrapped her up in his arms, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.  “Not a thing, baby,” he assured, relaxing his embrace enough for her to peer skeptically into his face.

“Are you sure?” she quizzed.  “You guys looked awfully serious when you came in.”

He brushed his thumb along the slight furrow that had formed in her forehead, and was overwhelmed with gratitude – that Felix was gone, she was safe, and she was here with him carrying… their child.  His resolve to delay that marriage proposal had wavered just a little in that moment. 

“Well, we do have some serious news to share.  Jon got a call while we were in his office.”

Now that Jon held some responsibility for the somber pall that had been cast over the room, Dorothea felt obliged to speak up.  “Jon?  What happened?”

Grinning, he crossed to stand beside his wife’s chair, resting his hand comfortingly upon her shoulder, while still focusing his attention on Allegra.  “It’s all good, Dottie.  The police found Felix.”

Allegra’s eyes widened and she turned to Richie for confirmation.  “Really?  He’s in jail?  I can stop looking over my shoulder now?”

“Yes, they really found him,” he established.  “But he’s not in jail.”

“But – “

She didn’t get a chance to question any further before Dot had posed her own.  “If he’s not in jail, then where the hell is he?”  She looked at her husband expectantly.

“He committed suicide.  He’s in the morgue.”

Richie had felt Allegra go still in his arms and watched her closely.   Some of the color left her face, and she blinked several times unseeingly.  Even as she leaned into him, it was like she’d either forgotten where she was, or left entirely.

“Sunshine?  Are you okay?”  He jostled her slightly, encouraging her to come back and join them.

“Yes,” she responded absently, arms sliding around his waist as she rested her cheek against him.  “I just hope God has mercy on his soul.”

“You’re a better woman than I am,” Dot snorted.  “I hope God extracts the vengeance that we should have gotten.”

Richie and Jon exchanged a look, but neither said a word.

Dot studied her husband closely.  “Or did we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.”

“It’s probably better that I don’t know, anyway,” she sighed.  “Allegra, will you two be back for dinner?”

It was Richie’s turn to interject this time.  “I don’t think so.  We’ll probably go see Ma and tell her the news.  Is that okay, Sunshine?”

She took a deep breath and let it out.  “Sure.  We’ve got to do it sometime.”

“Now…  Where are the keys to the fuckin’ Escalade, bro?”

Allegra had been somewhat withdrawn ever since.  She’d smiled and bid the others goodbye, but, after situating herself in the passenger seat so that she could see him easily, was very quiet.  So quiet that he didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when he noticed that her eyes were closed.

Dark smudges still underlined her lashes, and he had a fleeting  regret that they hadn’t stayed in the guest house this afternoon so that she could sleep.  She needed to take care of herself and he planned to see that she did.  Checking the clock, he noted that she should be able to get at least another half-hour’s nap in before they arrived.

The thought had no more crossed his mind, when he felt her shifting in the seat.

“Where are we?” she asked sleepily.

“Hey, you,” he greeted her, smiling at her unfocused eyes and warm, rumply appearance.  “Did you have a good nap?  We’ve got a ways to go if you wanna snooze some more.”

She stretched her legs out in front of her, wiggling her toes and pushing her arms toward the dash with a wide yawn.  Settling back into the cushiony seat, she declined.  “No, I’m okay.”

Richie slipped his fingers in between hers, bringing their joined hands to rest on the console between them.  “Did they give you some vitamins at the doctor’s office?”

“Mm-hmm.  I haven’t been all that good about taking them yet, though.”

“I know you’re still catching up on sleep, but they may help with the fatigue,” he suggested with a squeeze.  “Speaking of which, when’s your next appointment?  I’d like to go with you if I can.”

Allegra had been watching his left hand manipulate the steering wheel, the play of muscles in his forearm captivating her attention, but at his words, her eyes were drawn to his face.  “You would?”

He brought her hand up for a quick kiss, laughing.  “Darlin’ I can’t carry the baby for you but, other than that, I plan to be just as involved in this pregnancy as you are.  I don’t want to miss anything.”

Her cheeks colored and she bit her lip to keep from outright grinning.  It made HIM want to grin.  They were on the same page this time, and his intentions had been well-received.

“I’m glad,” she told him softly.  “The appointment is on the twenty-first, I think.”

He nodded in pleased approval.  “Perfect timing between shows.  I’ll put it on my calendar.”

Other than a small murmur of agreement, she didn’t say anything else for several minutes.   About the time he thought she’d gone back to sleep, she spoke.  “Richie?”

“What, baby?”

“We still need to talk about some things.  Before we get to Blessed Sacrament.”

The wheel slipped away from Richie, and both hands reached up to regain control, within seconds expertly guiding the big, black vehicle into the proper lane.  “What do we still need to talk about?” 

Did she have more surprises up her sleeve? 

He reached to reclaim her hand, bringing it to rest on his thigh as he drove.

“Relax, sweetie.  It’s nothing to do with ‘us’.  This is more of a ‘me’ thing, but I’ve been waiting for the chance to talk to you about it.”

“Lemma didn’t mention anything else,” he said oh-so-casually, already becoming unhappy at the idea of being the last to find out – again.

She laughed quietly, slipping him a look of understanding, and squeezed his hand.  “That’s because he doesn’t know.  You’re the only one I’ve been anxious to share this piece – well, pieces – of news with.  I’m sure Jon will want to be filled in at some point, but we can do that later.”

The muscles in his leg relaxed noticeably under her hand, and the tension eased from his shoulders. 

“No more bombshells then?”

She struggled with her seatbelt, trying to get closer, finally tucking the restraint under her arm so she could lean far enough to kiss him.

“No, not the way you mean,” she explained, petting his cheek softly before replacing the belt back in the proper position.  “This was a bombshell for me, but I don’t think it will affect you quite the same way.”

“So talk to me, baby.” 

Richie had missed this – the comfortable dialog they shared.  Being with her was never awkward, and even when they were both silent, it was okay.  He didn’t feel like he had to make conversation to avoid her misinterpretation of what was going on in his head. 

Heather had always assumed that if he was being quiet that he was angry, plotting against her, or thinking about another woman.  Usually he was lost in a song, whether it was one itching to be written or something he’d listened to on his iPod earlier in the day. He was a musician, so it stood to reason that songs and chords ran through his mind about ninety percent of the time.  She’d never understood that. 

And maybe Allegra didn’t either, but she also wasn’t narcissistic or insecure.  It was a nice change.

“Well…  There’s a little elderly nun assigned to the cloister now…”  Allegra proceeded to tell him about Sister Mary Clementine, her odd familiarity with Allegra and the progression of their friendship.

“It’s tragic to see someone lose themselves like that.  She sounds like a sweet lady.”

“She is.  Very much so.  So sweet in fact, she’d been holding onto something of Frannie’s for the last forty years.  Thinking I was Frannie, she returned it to me a couple of nights ago.”

His brow lifted in surprise.  “Oh yeah?  Something she’d borrowed?”

“More like something Frannie left behind,” she clarified before divulging, “It was a journal of Frannie’s life – from the time she met my father until just before I was born.”

He whistled.  “No way!  Did you read it?”

“Of course I read it!” she said incredulously.   “The journal was actually what made me want to come home.”  Her head fell back against the padded leather seat, lashes fluttering closed in remembrance.  “There was an entry somewhere around Christmas time.  Frannie was talking about missing her family at the holidays, but that the next Christmas would make up for it.  It was going to be special, because I would be almost a year old and into everything.” 

Allegra’s voice became quiet.  “She was planning her life around something that she would never get to see.” 

“Hey.”  He slipped his hand up to cradle the back of her neck, gently stroking the skin beneath her ponytail.  “Are you okay?”

Lifting her face, she gave him a melancholy smile.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  It just made me realize how uncertain life is.  We’re not guaranteed anything.”  Her shoulder lifted in a half-shrug.  “I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you waiting and wondering – thinking that I’d left because I didn’t love you.  Even if you didn’t want any part of me, I had to tell you.” 

Had she told him enough?  Had she made her feelings abundantly clear? 

She turned toward him with concern.  “You know, right?  You KNOW how much I love you?  That there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you?  That there’s nobody in the world that can compete with you in my life?  Even though I may have been stupid and selfish, it really WAS because I was trying to protect you.”

“I know, baby – I do.  We’re okay.” 

He lifted her hand to kiss its back, and hold it to his chest, where she felt his heart thumping in a slow, steady rhythm.  She hadn’t waited too long. 

“So what else was in the journal?  Did you find out anything about who your father is?”

“It was all interesting, but there WAS something pretty significant.  Frannie lied to Mama about my father.  He didn’t tell her to get rid of the baby and then abandon her.  Frannie made that up to protect him.  He didn’t know anything until she wrote to him about it a few days before I was born.”

“So he wasn’t a heartless ass.  That has to make you feel better.”

“A little,” she concurred.  “But things are still complicated.  To answer your question, yes, I know who my biological father is.”

Something about the way she said it had Richie questioning, “She left a name?  Or you actually KNOW who he is?”

“Both.”

“Okayyyy...  Don’t leave me hangin’ here Sunshine….”

She forced a little laugh, trying to see this from an outsider’s perspective.  It was nearly preposterous as far as believability went.

“It’s the funniest thing – okay, not funny, but completely ironic.  I mean, really.  What are the chances?”

“If you’d tell me, then maybe I’d know what the chances were,” he observed, teasing her just a little.

“This is a silly question, but do you remember the reason I left the Church?”

His response was both immediate and unwavering.  “Of course I do.  Tessa and that asshole Bishop.”

‘That asshole Bishop’.  Yep, that’s my Daddy.

“Yeah.  Well, that Bishop is my father.”