would not disturb his sleeping wife. He dressed and wrote a note for her and then—just before he left—he caressed her breast with longing tenderness, sighed, and propped the note up against his pillow. She was still sleeping when he went out of the apartment.
Tommy Giordano lived alone in a private house in the suburb of Riverhead, not three miles from Carella’s home. He was a Korean War veteran who’d had a macabre switch pulled on him while he was overseas. At a time when every American parent with a soldier son was worrying about mud and bullets, and every soldier son was worrying about Mongolian cavalry charges accompanied by the pounding of drums and the bleating of bugles—at a time like that, it was unthinkable to suppose that everyday living in the United States held its own nightmarish dangers. Tommy came to the realization with shocking suddenness.
His captain called him into the muddy command tent on a bleak rainy day. As gently as he knew how, he informed Tommy that both his parents had been killed in an automobile accident the day before, and that he was being flown home for the funeral. Tommy was an only child. He went home to watch them lower two people he had loved into the receptive earth, and then the Army flew him back to Korea again. He was despondent and uncommunicative throughout the remainder of the war. When he was finally discharged, he went back to the house he’d inherited from his parents. His only friend was a boy he’d known for years—until he met Angela Carella.
And one night, in Angela’s arms, he cried bitterly, releasing the tears to which he could not succumb while wearing the uniform of a soldier. And then he was all right. And now he was Tommy Giordano, a pleasant-faced kid of twenty-seven with a disarming grin and an easygoing manner.
He opened the door the moment Carella rang as if he’d been waiting behind it, listening for the bell.
“Gee, Steve,” he said, “I’m glad you came. Come on in. You want a drink or something?”
“At nine o’clock in the morning?” Carella asked.
“Is it that early? Gee, I must have got you out of bed. I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to trouble you. A hell of a brother-in-law I’m going to make.”
“Why’d you call, Tommy?”
“Sit down, Steve. You want some coffee? Have you had breakfast?”
“I can use a cup of coffee.”
“Good. I’ll make some toast, too. Look, I’m sorry as hell I woke you. I’ve been tossing and turning all night long myself. I guess I didn’t realize how early it was. Man, this getting married is murder. I swear to God, I’d rather face a mortar attack.”
“But this isn’t why you called me.”
“No. No, it’s something else. I’m a little worried, to tell the truth, Steve. Not for myself, but for Angela. I mean, I just can’t make it out.”
“Make what out?”
“Well, like I said…Listen, can you come in the kitchen? So I can make the coffee and toast? Would that be okay with you?”
“Sure.”
They went into the kitchen. Carella sat at the table and lighted a cigarette. Tommy began measuring coffee into the percolator.
“I couldn’t sleep all night,” Tommy said. “I kept thinking of the honeymoon. When we’re alone. What the hell do I do, Steve? I mean, I know she’s your sister and all, but what do I do? How do I start? I love that girl. I don’t want to hurt her or anything!”
“You won’t. Just relax, Tommy. Just remember that you love her, and that you married her, and that you’re going to be together for the rest of your lives.”
“Gee, I’ll tell you the truth, Steve, even that scares me.”
“Don’t let it.” He paused. “Adam and Eve didn’t have an instruction booklet, Tommy. And they made out all right.”
“Yeah, well I hope so. I sure hope so. I just wish I knew what the hell to say to her.” A pained look crossed his face, and Carella was momentarily amused.
“Maybe you won’t have to say anything,” Carella said. “Maybe she’ll get the idea.”
“Boy, I hope so.” Tommy put the coffeepot on the stove and then slid two slices of bread into the toaster. “But I didn’t call you so you could hold my hand. There’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I told you I couldn’t sleep all night. So I guess I got up kind of early, and I went to take in the milk. They leave it right outside the