The Favor Read online

  “I think the rain will hold off,” Janelle said to Karen Jones. Karen was a couple years older than her and had lived across the street from Nan her whole life, until she went away to college and moved to Pittsburgh. Now she only came back to St. Marys for holidays, to visit her parents so they could dote on their only grandchild, Emma. Janelle had heard the whole story already. Twice. “Look how much fun they’re having.”

  “It was really nice of you and your grandma to add to the Easter egg hunt. Emma looks forward to this so much every year.” Karen smiled, but her gaze never left her daughter, who was bobbing and weaving through the crowd of twenty or so kids aged three to twelve who were systematically foraging for the plastic and hard-boiled eggs planted everywhere. “Every year, she begs to come.”

  “That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. I guess it’s Mr. Tierney’s thing, really.”

  Mr. Tierney held court in an ancient, sagging lawn chair that looked as if it might collapse at any moment under his bulk. Karen smiled. “Oh, yes. He really gets into it. I guess because he doesn’t have any grandkids of his own.”

  Janelle didn’t miss the assessing look Karen gave Gabe, who stood overlooking the festivities from his familiar place on the porch. He wasn’t smoking, maybe out of respect for the children. Maybe a cigarette would’ve made him less grouchy, Janelle thought, then laughed silently. Probably not.

  Karen gave her a curious look. “What?”

  “Oh. Nothing. Just enjoying this hint of warmer weather. Even if it does look like rain.” Janelle stretched her hands up toward the glimpse of yellow sunshine peeping through the gray clouds. “I’m glad winter’s over.”

  “You wait. We’ve had snow in early May before,” Karen warned, then must’ve seen her daughter heading for danger, because she took off sprinting, leaving Janelle behind.

  Janelle didn’t even have to turn around to know Gabe was looking at her. She zipped her hoodie a little higher on her throat and shoved her hands in her pockets. “It’s a good thing the snow melted, huh?”

  “We just wouldn’t have colored the eggs, that’s all. Would’ve made it wicked hard to find them.”

  “This is a nice thing you do. You know that, right?”

  He looked at her. “It’s my dad’s thing. And Andy’s. I’m just the muscle.”

  She thought of the hour or so they’d spent stuffing the plastic eggs with candy and pennies. “Uh-huh.”

  He looked at her again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She shook her head with a smile and looked out to the yard, where all the kids were running and shouting. “You like it. Admit it. You like seeing them find all those eggs.”

  Gabe made a low, disgruntled noise. Janelle didn’t poke him further. She left him there on the porch as she went out into the yard to help some of the smaller kids find the well-hidden eggs, both hard-boiled and treat-filled, that the older kids had missed. The grass was cool and soft on her bare feet, and when the sun finally managed to burst out from its prison of clouds, she stood in the center of the yard with her head tipped back and arms out, enjoying the warmth and promise of spring.

  There’d been a few squabbles so far when more than one kid found the same egg at the same time, but this raised voice was adult. Janelle’s eyes snapped open at the shout. Mr. Tierney was yelling, shaking his fist at Gabe, who had a hand on the old man’s shoulder as though holding him back.

  Most of the kids weren’t paying attention, though of course, their parents were. Bennett, on the other hand, stood on the Tierneys’ porch, a bag bulging with treats in one hand. His eyes were wide, his gaze going back and forth between Mr. Tierney and Gabe, who was now muttering something into the old man’s ear.

  Janelle moved carefully through the grass to avoid stepping on any eggs. “What’s going on?”

  Mr. Tierney was now fighting to shove Gabe’s hand from his shoulder, but Gabe wasn’t letting go. It had the look of something that could turn ugly...and with an audience, too. She stepped up.

  “Hey!” She kept her voice light. “Is it time for the Easter Bunny yet?”

  “Screw the Easter Bunny!” Mr. Tierney cried.

  Gabe’s fingers dug deeper into his shoulder. “Be quiet. There are kids here, old man.”

  Mr. Tierney’s eyes had gone red-rimmed and watery. Gabe smoked but never smelled more than faintly of tobacco; Mr. Tierney stank of it. Also body odor and a mixed perfume of fainter, awful smells Janelle couldn’t identify and didn’t really want to.

  “Where’s Andy?” she asked.

  “In the house,” Gabe said without looking at her. “He’ll be out soon.”

  Mr. Tierney muttered something and jerked away from his son’s grasp, hard enough to send Gabe’s hand knocking against the porch railing. With a venomous look, the old man spat to the side, pushed past his son and went inside. Janelle watched him for a second.

  “Bennett, go play,” she said. He did at once, but she waited another half a minute before turning to Gabe. “What was that all about?”

  “He wanted to get in the costume.”

  Janelle frowned. “Okay?”

  “Not okay.” Gabe shook his head but kept his voice down, his gaze darting back and forth over her shoulder and not meeting hers. “Andy’s the Easter Bunny, that’s the way it is. That’s the way it always is.”

  “Did Andy not want to do it, or...?”

  “No. He’s inside dressing right now. The old man just got it in his head that this year he was going to do it. And he can’t. Jesus.” Gabe’s mouth twisted before he rubbed a hand over it. “Jesus Christ.”

  Janelle turned to look at their yards, where all the kids were finding the last few eggs and the parents had clumped into groups, gossiping or sorting through the baskets of candy to pick out a few treats for themselves. Something was going on here that she didn’t understand, but she did know Gabe well enough not to push him for an answer. She watched her son bend to help a smaller child pick up an egg from the base of the apple tree at the back of Nan’s yard.

  Behind her, the back door opened and Andy came out in the white Easter Bunny suit. The head was so big he had to turn sideways to fit through the door, and one ear had been fixed in the back with a wooden spoon and duct tape to keep it from flopping. The suit had clearly seen better days, but none of the kids seemed to care. Some squealed and ran toward the chair they’d set up earlier for him. Some hung back, reluctant until their parents encouraged them to go and get the small paper bags of candy Janelle, Andy, Nan and Gabe had spent hours stuffing.

  Andy nodded his giant, ponderous head slowly. Carefully. He held the smaller kids on his lap or posed with the bigger ones at his side for pictures. He hugged them all, never speaking to ruin the illusion, but using gestures to communicate.

  “He’s good with them,” she said.

  Gabe sighed. “Yeah. He is.”

  “Didn’t see you at church this morning.” She kept the words light, not quite teasing. More curious than anything else.

  Gabe looked at her, one brow raised. “You don’t see me at church any morning.”

  “Well. True. But Easter Sunday. I’d think you’d go to church on Easter, if you don’t go any other time.”

  “I’ll get my sermon when my brother comes next week.”

  Janelle grinned. “How is he?”

  Gabe shrugged. “He’s fine, I guess.”

  “He didn’t want to come for Easter dinner?” They’d been invited to Joey and Deb’s house for Easter dinner, a relief to Janelle, since Nan had said she wanted to cook a full meal, and Janelle hadn’t felt up to it.

  Gabe snorted. “He’s a priest. He was working today. We never see him for Christmas or Easter.”

  She felt dumb then. Of course. “Oh. So, he has a congregation?”

  “Yeah. Down near Pittsburgh.”

  “Do you see him...often? I mean, other times that aren’t priests’ working days.”

  “No. He doesn’t come home very often. He’s busy.”