Wednesday 11:00 P.M.
Mrs. Talucci stood on her porch. One arm rested on the porch rail, the other clutched the top of her cane. She leaned forward and glared into the night.
As soon as Paul closed his car door, he heard her thump her cane onto the porch. She called, “Paul.”
He walked over, climbed the porch, and looked down at her. She quivered with anger.
“Rose, what’s wrong?”
“Did you hear?”
He offered his arm. “Do you want to sit down?”
“I’m going to stand here until I have a stroke or until the world responds to the way I expect it to work, and that better be pretty damn fast.”
“What’s happened?”
She looked up at him. Paul heard the screen door on his home slam shut. He saw Ben glance in their direction and hurry over. Up close, he could tell his husband was upset.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked.
Mrs. Talucci said, “You better tell him.”
“Word flew through the school and the neighborhood about the latest news about Shane.”
“Is he okay?”
Ben said, “Yeah. It’s his baseball coach. That’s why he tried to commit suicide. The coach found out he was gay and tried to get the university to drop the kid’s scholarship.”
“What the hell difference does it make to him?” Paul demanded.
Mrs. Talucci said, “I don’t know when I’ve been this angry. I’d best sit down.”
They helped her to a porch chair. Paul assisted as she fussed with the summer shawl around her shoulders. Paul and Ben leaned their butts against the porch railing. Paul could feel Ben’s arm touching his.
Ben said, “Brian confirmed the rumor to me earlier. He was really angry.”
“Is he okay?”
“He wanted to go over to Shane’s but it was late. They texted, and Brian said Shane was okay.”
“What’s Shane going to do?” Paul asked.
Mrs. Talucci snorted. “Hah!” She thumped her cane against the floor. She said, “I’m on the parish school committee. This will be settled by noon tomorrow.”
She eased back in her chair and took up her knitting. She was making a shawl for her oldest great-granddaughter. In the silence Ben and Paul observed the street and listened to night noises.