“Right, near the Drexel campus.” Mary kept her gaze on him, in her best deposition mode, which is like being someone’s best frenemy. “You probably know Nick Machiavelli, he’s a lawyer in town.”
“Um, yes, I guess I heard of him.”
“But you knew them from the neighborhood, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I mean, I knew of the family.” Paul swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple prominent in his long neck.
“But you’ve met Nick, haven’t you? You must have. His family lives next door to yours. He’s about my age, he’s your sister’s age. He went to Newman when we went to Goretti.”
“Oh yeah, I think I know him.” Paul frowned, glancing again at Jim and Sanjay, and Mary could see that he was too young to be a good liar, which came with practice, or a law degree.
“You probably see Nick from time to time when he goes home. He visits his mother all the time. She still lives in the same house, just like my mother. So South Philly, right?”
“Yeah, I think she still does live there.”
“And your mom, right? She still lives there, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, my father passed eleven years ago.”
“I know, I was at the wake. You don’t remember, you were too little. But I went to pay my respects, for Teresa.”
“Oh.” Paul flushed under his freckled skin and Mary could see she had struck a chord, namely guilt, which always worked with her people.
“Nick goes home to visit his mother all the time. He brings all the neighborhood kids presents. He even gives out turkeys on Thanksgiving day, in the church parking lot.”
“Oh, right.”
Mary blinked, feeling for him. “You and your family probably got one of those turkeys, didn’t they, Paul?”
“Yes.” Paul swallowed hard, looking down at his fingernails, which were bitten off at the end of long, slim fingers.
“We did, too.” Mary put her hand on his arm. “I know what it feels like to need a hand, from time to time. But it’s not a crime to have less money than somebody else. Most people have been there, or they will be at sometime in their lives.”
Paul nodded, downcast, but didn’t raise his head.
“And it’s not even a crime to have somebody put you through college. I would’ve taken that, too. I had student loans until about last week.” Mary chuckled, patting his arm, though she didn’t take her hand off. “And somebody who’s really your friend, whoreallywants to help you, steps up and doesn’t ask something in return. It’s not a gift when somebody gives it expecting something in return.” Mary paused to let the words sink in. “Is it?”
Paul shook his head.
“So.” Mary moved her hand and let the moment pass. “Now’s your chance to talk to us and come clean. I know you want to, because I know how you were raised. You were raised just like Teresa and me. We all believe in the same things. Sometimes we lose our way, but we can forgive each other if we just come clean.”
Paul sighed heavily, his skinny chest rising and falling in his T-shirt.
“All you have to do is answer my questions and tell the truth. Okay, Paul?”
“Okay,” Paul mumbled, then after a moment, he raised his head, looking at Jim and Sanjay with glistening eyes, his youngforehead wrinkling into agonized lines. “I’m really sorry. I really am. I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice.”
Sanjay didn’t answer, glowering, but Jim nodded. “We understand. Let’s straighten this out now. Let’s clear the air.”
“Okay.” Paul nodded, jittery, then wiped his eyes, leaving pinkish streaks on his face.
Mary smiled at him in an encouraging way. “I know this is hard but we’re going to get through this and we’re gonna make it better. So let me just ask you, is Machiavelli putting you through Drexel?”
“Yes,” Paul answered, with a deep sigh.
“How did that come about, did he approach you at some point and offer?”
“Yes, when I was a junior at Newman. My mom could barely afford the tuition in high school. I was on the assistance program. I didn’t think I’d ever go to college. There was no way.”
