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broad daylight, right? But the thing is, not everyone sees what s
in front of them. Usually people see only what they re looking
for. Linda was eyeing both of them, her left foot jutting forward.
From a distance, it might have looked like a challenging pose, and
in fact, Grace saw the few students who were bounding down the
courtyard stairs glancing curiously in their direction. But Grace
suddenly felt completely at ease.
Come on, step into my office, Linda said, leading the way
back to her car. Grace shot Anne a hopeful look, but Anne seemed
noncommittal. They piled into the back seat as Linda got behind
the wheel and stabbed the key into the ignition. The radio came
on and Olivia Newton John s forlorn voice filled the car.
Aren t we waiting for Adele? Grace asked.
Benediction 187
Linda smiled into the rearview mirror. No. I m the whole
welcoming committee. She pulled away from the curb, driving
with her right arm across the top of the passenger seat, tapping
her hand in time to the music. All the windows were rolled down
and Anne s hair was swirling wildly around her face. Grace was
happier than she d been in weeks. If only Meg were around to
share it.
So, Linda shouted over the wind and the music, Whose
idea was it to wear red shirts? Shouldn t it have been lavender?
Anne shot Grace a puzzled look. Well, neither of us have
anything purple.
Uh huh. Linda smiled a slow, amused smile. Newer in
these parts than I thought, she said, more to herself than to
them.
Where are we going? Anne asked.
Right over here, Linda said, turning the car down a side
street. She stopped next to a small park. In the distance, two teams
of teenaged boys were kicking a soccer ball back and forth. Linda
turned off the car. So, its poker time, Linda said, swiveling to
face them, stretching her legs out leisurely across the front seat.
Who shows their hand first?
Well, we Anne and Grace started simultaneously.
No, let me, Grace told Anne. You ve done enough for me
already. Grace looked at Linda sternly. My friend Anne really
isn t I mean, she s not involved to the same degree. She did this
because she s my friend but I m really the one who needs to talk
to you.
Fine, Linda said. Talk.
Anne, you can go back, really, I ll be okay, Grace said.
No way. This was my idea, Anne protested.
I ll be fine, Grace said, with more confidence than she felt.
I mean it. It ll be better this way.
Okay, Anne said reluctantly. But I m going to call you,
she said, looking at her watch, in exactly two hours. If you re not
home, I m calling the police. She gave Linda a warning glance.
Grace blushed. Just go, already. She leaned forward and
watched silently as Anne headed back down the street toward
188 Diane Salvatore
Immaculate Blessing. A flutter of anxiety rose in her throat. The
car seemed unbearably small with just the two of them in it.
Suddenly Linda was laughing, a robust, contagious sound, her
head thrown back, the sun painting gold in her hair.
What s so funny? Grace demanded.
Ohhh, Linda said, wiping her eye with the back of her
hand, it s all just so cloak and dagger. Let s just say it. You figured
out about me and Joan, and now you figured out about me and
Adele. Am I right?
Uh, well, yeah, if by figured out you mean
Are you in love with your friend, there? Linda asked,
gesturing at Anne s retreating back.
Anne? Now it was Grace s turn to laugh. No, not with
Anne.
Another girl, then?
Grace nodded, unable to meet her eye. This whole year. She
just left me. Probably to get married.
Jesus, I m sorry. Linda reached over and squeezed Grace s
arm briefly.
The small gesture of kindness seemed to open some dam
in Grace. She began to cry, but here her grief felt legitimate,
dignified.
She was your first? Linda asked quietly.
Grace nodded. Was Joan yours?
Well, not the very first, but definitely the most important.
Everybody has one of those. You spend the rest of your life trying
to figure out why it went wrong and why everyone else falls
short.
Do you ever talk to her?
Linda looked out the car window, across the playing field. I
sent a few letters. No word.
Maybe she never got them. Maybe the nuns screen the
letters and didn t give them to her.
Yeah, I thought of that. But I did what you did in your note to
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