a wonder. Wolfe’s was a downtown restaurant. On the rare occasion we went for ice cream, we went to the drugstore on South Main.
“You enjoy yourselves,” Mrs. Foster said. “Call me next week — my classes fill up fast.”
“Wolfe’s? Really, Da?” We all clamored for an answer, hanging on to his arms, and him laughing, pretending to be alarmed.
He half ushered, half danced us to the restaurant, Delia having to walk in double time in her sensible heels. It was like a fine spring night with the warmth of summer, and the streets were crowded with other families hurrying to shops or restaurants, and servicemen still getting used to the deference their uniforms brought them.
We bounced in our chairs, planning how many scoops and how many toppings, for Da was in a mood to splurge, that was clear. Sundaes arrived, along with Delia’s coffee.
A family brushed by in the crowd, and the man stopped. It was Nate Benedict, dressed in a light-colored suit with an open shirt. The woman wore a dark print dress and matching hat. She looked at us for a moment, then turned away. She put her arm around the boy standing with them, a boy with dark hair and eyes and a lean, handsome face like his dad’s, minus the squashed nose. “We’ll meet you up front, Nate,” she said.
Before he turned away the boy looked straight at me, and I hoped he noticed my satin costume, red, white, and blue.
“Hello, Corrigans,” Nate said. “Good to see you, Mac. Miss Corrigan.”
“Benny! Oh, I mean, Nate.” Da stood and extended his hand. “We’re celebrating the performance of our girl Kitty. She was over at the holiday show at the Carlton — you remember Kitty….”
Nate looked down at me. “The one who can’t sleep.” He reached out his hand, and I felt Delia flinch for a second as he rested it on top of my head. “We saw the show. You were wonderful.” His compliment made me glow. Wonderful. Such an important word, a grown-up word.
“She was the best one on the stage, let me tell you.”
“I agree. Enjoy your ice cream.” Nate walked toward the entrance, putting on his hat. He joined the woman and the boy and they left, pushing through the doors to Westminster Street.
“Can you imagine, that teacher singling Kitty out like that,” Da said, scooping off his cherry and holding it up. Jamie, Muddie, and I all grabbed for it, but Muddie was fastest.
“Now don’t tell me that you’re thinking of those lessons,” Delia said tightly. She smoothed her paper napkin into little creases. “You’re going to fill poor Kitty’s head with dreams.”
“What’s wrong with dreams?”
“They don’t come true, that’s what. Life isn’t a picture show.”
“But she singled Kitty out!”
“She singled you out, more’s likely, as the softest touch in Providence. She should be singing in church, lifting her voice to God, not on a stage. You want your daughter to parade herself on a stage?”
“Please, I’m begging you, Delia, don’t bring Jesus into this one. I know he wasn’t a song-and-dance man, but he did believe in pleasure. What about the wedding at Cana? Plenty of wine for everybody!”
“Oh, when you start quoting the Bible to me, I know I’m being conned.” Delia drew her cardigan closer about her shoulders. “Don’t go casting me as some puritan. I like singing and dancing as much as anyone. I’m not a Baptist. But have you noticed Kitty’s grades? She should be concentrating on her studies.”
“She has her heart set.” Da said this as if it settled the matter, even though, of course, it didn’t. He never had the last word.
“Listen to you, her heart set. As though getting your heart set on something meant you should have it.” Delia wiped at her mouth with her napkin, scraping it across her lips.
There was a silence. I didn’t know why Delia was so angry. I just knew I wanted those lessons more than I’d ever wanted anything.
“I could go on Saturdays,” I said.
“And who would bring you downtown?”
“A trolley would bring her, Dee,” Da said.
“She’s nine years old — she can’t ride a trolley by herself. Man, what are you thinking? With all these sailors and strangers around now? I know you’re raising these children like a pack of wild animals —”
“Dee.” Da sighed, exasperated. He scooped up a bit of whipped cream and held it in front of her. “For once in your life, let someone else have something sweet without finding a way to