Page 9 of Delusional

I said my good-byes and headed up to our apartment. Dinner was over, and about half of the kids were seated around the dining room table doing their homework.

I said hello to everyone individually, which took a while. It might not sound like much, but when there are ten kids to greet, plus my wife, and often my grandfather visiting from the rectory at Holy Name too, arriving home is rarely a simple process.

It seemed like math was on the agenda for my three youngest today. I was still able to help Shawna and Chrissy with most of their homework, and could just barely keep up with Trent’s. Middle-school math didn’t yet go over my head. At least most days.

The twins were a different story. They were both working on algebra, and though I did my best, it felt like no matter what suggestion I offered, either Fiona or Bridget would explain why that wasn’t the proper course to take. Thankfully Jane took mercy on me and slipped in next to Bridget to give her sisters some quick tutoring.

I slunk away from the table like a dog who’d been caught chewing on the furniture. As I sat next to Mary Catherine on the couch, I said, “I feel like Sister Sheilah sends them home with extra algebra just to frustrate me. She remembers I hated algebra when I was a student at Holy Name.”

My wife had taken to sitting on the couch with her feet on the coffee table to ease some stress off her back. Although the pregnancy wasn’t obvious yet, the changes in her body were causing her a great deal of discomfort and fatigue. I tried to support her, but there was no way I could understand what it felt like. This was a first pregnancy for us both. Our other kids—six girls and four boys—had all been adopted by me and my late wife, Maeve, though largely raised by Mary Catherine.

Mary Catherine patted me on the leg and said, with her charming Irish accent, “That’s right, my love. The Catholic Church is consumed with making you regret not studying more.”

Clearly, I would be getting no sympathy from my wife. Then my oldest child, Juliana, burst into the living room. She didn’t say hello or ask me how my day was. Instead, she looked directly at me and said, “Why didn’t you tell me Rob was going to Montana?”

My college-aged daughter and my young NYPD partner had recently started dating—or had they? It was hard for me to tell how serious things were between them, and I didn’t want to get involved… not that I could completely avoid it.

“Maybe because this is the first time I’ve seen you since he and I spoke this morning.”

Juliana gritted her teeth in an expression of frustration she’d utilized since she was a little girl. “He just called me from the airport, but I didn’t have a chance to ask him many questions. I hope he’s back in time for my new show’s opening night.”

Ricky, sitting on the floor with Eddie playing video games, looked over his shoulder at his sister and said, “Oh, yeah. What’s the play called again? Burning Cat on the Ceiling?”

Juliana glared at her brother. “It’s Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, doofus. I was lucky to get it after Godspell was unexpectedly canceled.”

I caught Ricky’s crafty smile. So did Juliana. That’s about the only thing that kept him from being throttled right in front of us.

Juliana turned her attention back to me and Mary Catherine. “I’m going to help out Rob’s roommates while he’s gone. They all have doctors’ appointments tomorrow.”

I said, “All five of them?”

“Yep. Can I borrow the van?”

Mary Catherine said, “Of course you can.” She stood up from the couch, then gave Juliana a big hug. “You’re such a good girl. I am so proud of you.”

Juliana was clearly moved by the sentiment, and I was moved at the bond between the two of them.

All I could do was sit on the couch and appreciate how lucky I was to have this family.

CHAPTER 10

A LITTLE LATER, after the younger kids had gone to bed, I sat at the dining room table with Mary Catherine, Juliana, and my oldest son, Brian. Brian still wore his uniform shirt from All City Air-Conditioning and Heating. He’d gotten home after me, as he usually did these days. It was a rare moment the four of us could share without the inquisitive ears of younger siblings.

They were all interested in the bombing, which had been on the news constantly since this morning. I answered what questions I could, but it made me realize how little I still knew about the case.

Mary Catherine said, “So do you think it’s related to that car bombing in Queens over the summer?”

“Possibly. There are similarities, but one big difference is that I’m told the bomb used on Sergeant Vega’s car was very crude. The bomb used at the Office of Technology and Innovation was quite sophisticated, despite the glitter. An unnamed group claimed responsibility for the bomb that killed Sergeant Vega, but no one’s come forward on this one yet. If we knew, that might give us a little more to go on. We can’t even count on the fact that it’s really an organized group. The earlier message could’ve been a hoax and nothing but a waste of our time.”

Mary Catherine asked, “Why the glitter?”

“Maybe they were showing off,” Juliana suggested. “Trying to show that they’re not afraid of anything.”

I looked at Juliana and said, “I can see those psychology classes at City College are really paying off.”

“Why the different bomb designs?” Mary Catherine continued. “If it is the same people, could they have gotten better at bomb making?”

“Sure they could.” This time it was Brian who had chimed in. “Just go on YouTube. There are a whole bunch of videos about how to make bombs. They get tons of views too. I see all kinds of videos of people blowing up cars and old refrigerators and even things like storage sheds. I’ve heard that you can find plans online for making a nuclear weapon if you know where to look.”