[41] She hadn’t had enough money with her that day, but the guy said he’d be on Fifth Avenue between Fifty-seventh and Forty-seventh Streets on Christmas Eve, so she had to find him. O God, she prayed, let them arrest Jimmy before he hurts anyone else. There’s something wrong with him. There always has been.
[42] Ahead of her, people were singing “Silent Night.” As she got closer, though, she realized that they weren’t actually carolers, just a crowd around a street violinist who was playing Christmas tunes.
[43] “… Holy infant, so tender and mild …”
[44] Brian did not join in the singing, even though “Silent Night” was his favorite and at home in Omaha he was a member of his church’s children’s choir. He wished he was there now, not in New York, and that they were getting ready to trim the Christmas tree in their own living room, and everything was the way it had been.
[45] He liked New York and always looked forward to the summer visits with his grandmother. He had fun then. But he didn’t like this kind of visit. Not on Christmas Eve, with Dad in the hospital and Mom so sad and his brother bossing him around, even though Michael was only three years older.
[46] Brian stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket. They felt cold even though he had on his mittens. He looked impatiently at the giant Christmas tree across the street, on the other side of the skating rink. He knew that in a minute his mother was going to say, “All right. Now let’s get a good look at the tree.”
[47] It was so tall, and the lights on it were so bright, and there was a big star on top of it. But Brian didn’t care about that now, or about the windows they had just seen. He didn’t want to listen to the guy playing the violin, either, and he didn’t feel like standing here.
[48] They were wasting time. He wanted to get to the hospital and watch Mom give Dad the big St. Christopher medal that had saved Grandpa’s life when he was a soldier in World War II. Grandpa had worn it all through the war, and it even had a dent in it where a bullet had hit it.
[49] Gran had asked Mom to give it to Dad, and even though she had almost laughed, Mom had promised but said, “Oh, Mother, Christopher was only a myth. He’s not considered a saint anymore, and the only people he helped were the ones who sold the medals everybody used to stick on dashboards.”
[50] Gran had said, “Catherine, your father believed it helped him get through some terrible battles, and that is all that matters. He believed and so do I. Please give it to Tom and have faith.”
[51] Brian felt impatient with his mother. If Gran believed that Dad was going to get better if he got the medal, then his mom had to give it to him. He was positive Gran was right.
[52] “… sleep in heavenly peace.” The violin stopped playing, and a woman who had been leading the singing held out a basket. Brian watched as people began to drop coins and dollar bills into it.
[53] His mother pulled her wallet out of her shoulder bag and took out two one-dollar bills. “Michael, Brian, here. Put these in the basket.”
[54] Michael grabbed his dollar and tried to push his way through the crowd. Brian started to follow him, then noticed that his mother’s wallet hadn’t gone all the way down into her shoulder bag when she had put it back. As he watched, he saw the wallet fall to the ground.
[55] He turned back to retrieve it, but before he could pick it up, a hand reached down and grabbed it. Brian saw that the hand belonged to a thin woman with a dark raincoat and a long ponytail.
[56] “Mom!” he said urgently, but everyone was singing again, and she didn’t turn her head. The woman who had taken the wallet began to slip through the crowd. Instinctively, Brian began to follow her, afraid to lose sight of her. He turned back to call out to his mother again, but she was singing along now, too, “God rest you merry, gentlemen …” Everyone was singing so loud he knew she couldn’t hear him.
[57] For an instant, Brian hesitated as he glanced over his shoulder at his mother. Should he run back and get her? But he thought again about the medal that would make his father better; it was in the wallet, and he couldn’t let it get stolen.
[58] The woman was already turning the corner. He raced to catch up with her.
[59] Why did I pick it up? Cally thought frantically as she rushed east on Forty-eighth Street toward Madison Avenue. She had abandoned her plan of walking down Fifth Avenue to find the peddler with the dolls. Instead, she headed toward the Lexington Avenue subway. She knew it would be quicker to go up to Fifty-first Street for the train, but the wallet felt like a hot brick in her pocket, and it seemed to her that everywhere she turned everyone was looking at her accusingly. Grand Central Station would be mobbed. She would get the train there. It was a safer place to go.
[60] A squad car passed her as she turned right and crossed the street. Despite the cold, she had begun to perspire.
[61] It probably belonged to that woman with the little boys. It was on the ground next to her. In her mind, Cally replayed the moment when she had taken in the slim young woman in the rose-colored all-weather coat that she could see was fur-lined from the turned-back sleeves. The coat obviously was expensive, as were the woman’s shoulder bag and boots; the dark hair that came to the collar of her coat was shiny. She didn’t look like she could have a care in the world.
[62] Cally had thought, I wish I looked like that. She’s about my age and my size and we have almost the same color hair. Well, maybe by next year I can afford pretty clothes for Gigi and me.
[63] Then she’d turned her head to catch a glimpse of the Saks windows. So I didn’t see her drop the wallet, she thought. But as she passed the woman, she’d felt her foot kick something and she’d looked down and seen it lying there.
[64] Why didn’t I just ask if it was hers? Cally agonized. But in that instant, she’d remembered how years ago, Grandma had come home one day, embarrassed and upset. She’d found a wallet on the street and opened it and saw the name and address of the owner. She’d walked three blocks to return it even though by then her arthritis was so bad that every step hurt.
[65] The woman who owned it had looked through it and said that a twenty-dollar bill was missing.
[66] Grandma had been so upset. “She practically accused me of being a thief.”
[67] That memory had flooded Cally the minute she touched the wallet. Suppose it did belong to the lady in the rose coat and she thought Cally had picked her pocket or taken money out of it? Suppose a policeman was called? They’d find out she was on probation. They wouldn’t believe her any more than they’d believed her when she lent Jimmy money and her car because he’d told her if he didn’t get out of town right away, a guy in another street gang was going to kill him.
[68] Oh God, why didn’t I just leave the wallet there? she thought. She considered tossing it in the nearest mailbox. She couldn’t risk that. There were too many undercover cops around midtown during the holidays. Suppose one of them saw her and asked what she was doing? No, she’d get home right away. Aika, who minded Gigi along with her own grandchildren after the day-care center closed, would be bringing her home. It was getting late.
[69] I’ll put the wallet in an envelope addressed to whoever’s name is in it and drop it in the mailbox later, Cally decided. That’s all I can do.
[70] Cally reached Grand Central Station. As she had hoped, it was mobbed with people rushing in all directions to trains and subways, hurrying home for Christmas. She shouldered her way across the main terminal, finally making it down the steps to the entrance to the Lexington Avenue subway.
[71] As she dropped a token in the slot and hurried for the express train to Fourteenth Street, she was unaware of the small boy who had slipped under a turnstile and was dogging her footsteps.
[72] “God rest you merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay …” The familiar words seemed to taunt Catherine, reminding her of the forces that threatened the happily complacent life she had assumed would be hers forever. Her husband was in the hospital with leukemia. His enlarged spleen had been removed this morning as a precaution against it rupturing, and while it was too early to tell for sure, he seemed to be doing well. Still, she could not escape the fear that he was not going to live, and the thought of life without him was almost paralyzing.
[73] Why didn’t I realize Tom was getting sick? she agonized. She remembered how only two weeks ago, when she’d asked him to take groceries from the car, he’d reached into the trunk for the heaviest bag, hesitated, then winced as he picked it up.
[74] She’d laughed at him. “Play golf yesterday. Act like an old man today. Some athlete.”
[75] “Where’s Brian?” Michael asked as he returned from dropping the dollar in the singer’s basket.
[76] Startled from her thoughts, Catherine looked down at her son. “Brian?” she said blankly. “He’s right here.” She glanced down at her side, and then her eyes scanned the area. “He had a dollar. Didn’t he go with you to give it to the singer?”
[77] “No,” Michael said gruffly. “He probably kept it instead. He’s a dork.”
[78] “Stop it,” Catherine said. She looked around, suddenly alarmed. “Brian,” she called “Brian.” The carol was over, the crowd dispersing. Where was Brian? He wouldn’t just walk away, surely. “Brian,” she called out again, this time loudly, alarm clear in her voice.
[79] A few people turned and looked at her curiously. “A little boy,” she said, becoming frightened. “He’s wearing a dark blue ski jacket and a red cap. Did anyone see where he went?”
[80] She watched as heads shook, as eyes looked around, wanting to help. A woman pointed behind them to the lines of people waiting to see the Saks windows. “Maybe he went there?” she said in a heavy accent.
[81] “How about the tree? Would he have crossed the street to get up close to it?” another woman suggested.
[82] “Maybe the cathedral,” someone volunteered.
[83] “No. No, Brian wouldn’t do that. We’re going to visit his father. Brian can’t wait to see him.” As she said the words, Catherine knew that something was terribly wrong. She felt the tears that now came so easily rising behind her eyes. She fumbled in her bag for a handkerchief and realized something was missing: the familiar bulk of her wallet.
[84] “Oh my God,” she said. “My wallet’s gone.”