Chapter Fifteen

It had been a whirlwind courtship since Walter had asked his uncle Paul Kellogg to read Matt’s manuscript. As the CEO of Baldwin Publishing, Kellogg had arranged a personal meeting. Paul explained the details of the publishing process, making Matt an offer for his work and assuring him it was extremely generous for someone who had never been published.

Matt felt like a rookie who’d just been elevated to the major leagues…excited but unsure of the implications. He knew nothing about the intricacies of publishing and even less about Paul Kellogg. He explained he needed time to think about the offer. Kellogg agreed, once again stressing the generosity he was displaying toward someone so young. Matt went home and gathered the Sullivan clan: his father, sister Jeanne and her husband, Allen. They listened as Matt discussed the Baldwin offer.

“Sounds like you’d better talk to a lawyer,” Daniel said. “It’s a great chance, but you have to be careful. You don’t want to get tied up with these people if you could do better somewhere else.”

“Dad’s right,” Jeanne agreed. “Don’t you have someone who does your legal work?”

He nodded. “I’ll call him tomorrow if Matt wants, but this isn’t his specialty.” Daniel smiled at Matt. “Do you mind if we read what you’ve written?”

“I guess not.” Matt was still shy about letting people read his writing. He went to his room, returning with his manuscript. “Here it is.” He pushed aside an ashtray and put a thick, loose-leaf notebook on the coffee table. “It’s not finished, but you’re welcome to read it.”

“Thanks, son. I’ll call my lawyer and ask him what he thinks. Now, if no one minds,” he said, picking up Matt’s notebook, “I’m going out on the porch and read the Sullivan family’s first best seller.” He slapped Matt on the back.

Matt went to his room. A few days ago, he was a construction worker, now he was an author. It still sounded strange when he said it. He was superstitious, so he wouldn’t celebrate until he had a contract and some money in hand.

He flopped onto his bed and lay there thinking about all the exciting prospects—fame, travel, money. He thought how odd life was as he stared at the shelves overflowing with books, trophies and mementos of his hockey career. Not long ago he hoped to be a professional athlete. The injury that destroyed those dreams led him toward writing. He just had to tell someone, so he reached over and dialed a familiar number. The phone rang three times before she answered.

“Hi, it’s me,” Matt said.

“Hi, you, what’s up on this gorgeous summer evening?” Donna asked.

“You up for a walk? I got something to tell somebody, and you’re the first person that came to mind.”

“Well, I’m not sure I believe that, but I’ll meet you halfway. How ’bout the corner of N Street in ten minutes?”

“See you there, beautiful.”

It was almost seven p.m. As Matt approached her, Donna smiled warmly. It was a beautiful late-summer night. The darkening sky was clear, almost cloudless, and the light cool breeze blowing toward them delivered a taste of salt air from the beach. The setting sun shone orange on the L Street Bathhouse and the trees that guarded Carson Beach. Her pale complexion shone crimson around her freckled nose.

“Looks like you’ve been to the beach,” Matt said, returning her smile.

“Yeah, we went to Wingersheek—up on the North Shore. But it was so cold I just lay in the sun while Frank played touch football with his buddies. I guess I got a little burn.”

Matt wanted to tell her she looked terrific. She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans that fit her perfectly. Her pale-blue sweatshirt with the words “Southie Forever” on its front did little to hide her full breasts. The lustrous, shoulder-length, auburn hair that Donna took so much pride in seemed to shine as it picked up highlights from the fading sun.

He hugged her, took her hand and pulled her toward him. He looked into the large, soft brown eyes that were as warm and welcoming as ever. As he and Donna headed toward the beach, Matt squeezed her hand.

After dodging the evening traffic on Day Boulevard, they made some small talk while they sat on the low, stone wall in front of the beach. A few sailboats took advantage of the light breeze, heading home in the twilight, while the seagulls competed loudly for what the swimmers and sunbathers had left behind. The fragrance of the tide competed with the soft scent of Donna’s perfume.

Finally, Matt couldn’t wait any longer. “Donna, you’re not going to believe what’s happened!” he blurted out. For the next ten minutes they sat on the wall as the sun worked its way below the trees across the Boulevard. Once Matt started, he couldn’t stop. Everything that had happened overflowed as he told her about his writing, Baldwin’s offer, and meeting with the lawyer.

When he was done, she laughed and clapped. “Oh, God, Matt, I’m so happy for you. Your dad must be so proud of you.”

They got up and walked along Carson Beach, discussing how Matt’s life would change. In a while, without thinking he’d put his arm around her. Donna made no protest. Instead, she put her head on his shoulder, old friends walking back across the wide, tree-covered lanes of Day Boulevard toward home.

Matt took Donna to her door, thanking her for listening to his exciting news. He looked down at Donna, staring into her warm, inviting eyes. He bent and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, cowboy, back off,” she said. “I’ve got a guy. And what about Jesse, the girl we met at the Public Gardens?” He’d been able to put her out of his mind for a while, but with the question the pain came flooding back.

“It-it didn’t work out between us.” He avoided Donna’s eyes. “Why?”

“I just wondered.” She’d been teasing, but Matt could see Donna knew she’d opened a wound. “I just thought you two seemed like the perfect couple. I’m sorry, Matt,” she said with regret.

“It doesn’t really matter.” He sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Of course it does. Everything that happens to you is important to me. It’s the same with you. I care about you, and I always will.” She looked up at him as she spoke softly.

“And how is Frank these days?” he asked.

“He’s fine. Thanks,” Donna said. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Matthew. Honest to God, I am.” She took his hand and squeezed it.

“No big deal. I mean who knows? We probably…”

She didn’t let him finish. She put her fingers to his lips, the same way Jesse had in front of Martel’s. “Matt. Don’t put on a front for me. Don’t cheapen what you felt, what you’re still feeling.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed his cheek again. “You know if you ever need somebody…”

“I know, thanks.”

Matt backed away. “You better go. It’s getting late.”

She touched his arm “I’m so happy about your book, Matt.” She gave him a broad grin and turned. “Just don’t forget me when you win the Pulitzer and become the darling of the talk shows.” He watched her walk away and thought how lucky he was to have a person like Donna. But then, he had so many good people in his life. He thought about Jesse, wondering who she could turn to, wishing he could ease her loneliness.

“I’d never forget you,” he said, giving her a wink and a wave as he headed home.

“I know.” She gave him a wave.

Matt walked the three blocks home, oblivious to his surroundings. He felt excitement, confusion and sadness in equal parts. When he got there, he sat down on the front porch, looking up at the muted stars, their light dimmed by the haze and lights of downtown Boston.

He heard a noise and saw his father standing in his worn, flannel bathrobe. It was the one his mother had given Daniel the Christmas before she died. He stubbornly refused to let anyone replace it.

Matt smiled. “I miss Mom too, Dad, but you’ve got to retire that robe before it walks away on its own.”

“Nonsense, it just needs a good wash. I’ll give it to Jeannie tomorrow.” He smiled at Matt. “Anything I can help with? You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“No, I’m all right. It’s just that every time I think I’ve got everything figured out, life seems to blindside me.” Matt shook his head. He looked at his watch, knowing he had to be up early for work.

“Well, son, I don’t know exactly what you’re talking about, but I can tell you this. You’re bright, talented and handsome. Life is funny, Matt. Sometimes the more you’re given, the more difficult it becomes to sort it out.” Daniel stepped out and sat next down.

Matt nodded.

“Everything new and wonderful we’re given seems to have a price attached. Sometimes it gets so difficult you get to thinking it would be easier to give up.” His father studied the hazy, night sky and shook his head. “But Matthew, I believe you have a destiny bigger than anything I ever imagined. I read what you wrote. You have a gift, son. Your words paint pictures. They bring out feelings.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“When I finished reading your story, I knew you were meant for great things, but be careful, because having that kind of talent can be a blessing…or a curse. Use what God’s given you to inspire people. We all have a purpose, and you’ve found yours.”

Matt got up and hugged his father. It had been quite a day. As they looked up at the faded night tapestry, Matt said, “Thanks, Dad, I’ll give it a try,” as he went inside.

“Don’t try, Matt. Do it!”

As he lay in his bed, drifting off to sleep, Matt replayed the day. He thought of Donna—how warm and exciting it felt to hold her again, of his meeting with Baldwin, of his father’s sage advice. But as sleep overtook him, there was another vision, more vivid and compelling than any of the others. It was a vision of Jesse smiling at him the first time he’d seen her at Martel’s….

****

“Hello.”

“Well, well,” the man answered. “To what do I owe the honor of this call, my old friend?”

“I know it’s been a while, but I need some information. I want to check on someone and I hear you have some associates that might be able to help me in South Boston.” Mario hadn’t spoken to Frank in two years. There was a long silence.

“You are calling from a pay phone?” Frank asked.

“Of course,” Mario said respectfully.

“What’s the name?”

“Maybe we should meet in person—at our old spot. You know, just in case,” Mario suggested.

“You’re a wise man, my friend. I’ll see you there on the day and time we used to meet.” His friend hung up the phone.