The long road home - By Danielle Steel Page 0,68

had been me, instead of him,” he said in a small, sad voice. “We were all so crazy about him. He was the star of the family, the best at everything, their first-born, their favorite,” he admitted. Lives were so complicated, and the things that happened in them so impossible to explain, so difficult to live with. They both knew that. “Anyway, “I'll see him again one day,” he said, smiling sadly at Gabriella. “I didn't mean to tell you all that. I just think of him a lot on holidays. We used to love to play baseball. He was one heck of a fantastic player.” He had been a nine-year-old kid, just a little boy, Gabriella realized, but to his little brother, Joe, he had been, and still was, a hero.

“I'm sorry, Joe,” she said, and meant it from the bottom of her heart. She was so sorry for him, and all that he had been through.

“It's okay, Gabbie,” he said, looking at her gratefully, and then one of the priests from St. Stephen's came over to rehash the game with them, and congratulated Father Joe on his victory for St. Stephen's.

“That's quite an arm you've got, son.” He really was a very good pitcher. The mood lightened again after that, and when the priests went home that night, Father Joe walked over to say good-bye to Gabriella. She was standing with Sister Timmie and Sister Agatha, and they were laughing and teasing each other. Everyone was still in good spirits.

“Thanks for a great game, Sisters,” he said jovially, and then with a last look at Gabbie that the others seemed unaware of, “thanks for everything,” he said, and they both knew what he meant. He was thinking about telling her about Jimmy.

“God bless you, Father Joe,” she said gently, and meant it. They both needed blessings in their lives, and forgiveness and healing, and that was her most fervent wish for him. In her opinion, he deserved it, even more than she did.

“Thank you, Sister. See you at confession. Good night, Sisters,” he called out with a wave as he went to join the others and gather up their equipment before they went back to St. Stephen's. It had been a great day, a great Fourth of July. And as Gabriella walked slowly back inside with the other postulants, she was startled to realize that one of the things she remembered most clearly about the day was when she had reached out and touched his fingers.

“Isn't that right, Sister Bernadette?” One of the other Sisters had asked her something, and she hadn't heard it. She had been thinking of Father Joe, and his brother, Jimmy.

“I'm sorry, Sister… I didn't hear you.” They all knew that at times Gabriella didn't hear things, particularly now with the habit covering her ears, but they were always patient with her about it and it never occurred to anyone that she would be thinking about the young priest and his lost brother.

“I said Sister Mary Martha's lemon cookies were fantastic. I want to get her recipe for next year.”

“Delicious,” Gabriella agreed, walking up the stairs, just behind them, but her thoughts were a million miles away, thinking of two little boys, one caught in a whirlpool, and the other left sobbing by the river. Her heart went out to him, and all she wanted to do as she thought of him, was drift back in time and put her arms around him. She could still see Father Joe's eyes in the half light that night, and the look of devastation in them. And her own eyes filled with tears again now, just thinking of him. All she could do now was pray for him that night, that he might finally forgive himself. She prayed for the man she knew and had come to love as a friend, and the soul of his brother, Jimmy.

Chapter 11

GABRIELLA DIDN'T SEE Father Joe again for several days after the Fourth of July picnic. Everyone was still talking about it, and the baseball game had made convent history. They could hardly wait to do it again next year. But Gabriella was particularly surprised in light of that, and given the high spirits that had persisted at St. Matthew's, when she saw Father Joe, and he was less than friendly with her. He seemed almost cool, and the word that came to mind as she spoke to him was grouchy. She wasn't sure if he was annoyed with her,

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