Chapter Two: St. Patrick's Cathedral
"It looked better at night," Rick observed, looking up at St. Patrick's Cathedral.
Bill would have told him to shush and appreciate the beauty of the church anyways, but he was right. The place looked a lot better from the outside when they had the stained glass window lit up and gazing out onto the streets. The light grey stone was hard to look at in the harsh overcast light.
The young book lightly grabbed onto his father's wrist, pushing back the sleeve to read the watch face. Only to remember that he didn't know how to tell time.
"It's 9:17 now, honey," Ruth smiled, giving her son a little pat on the head.
"When does it start?"
"The tickets say 10:15".
"We don't need tickets to get into our church at home. Is that why we can't get in now?"
"This church caters to a larger community, they need more services. We're going to the big one with the organ and choir. And more people would want to see a Catholic mass today than any other Sunday in the year… unless the Pope comes by".
"Pope Paul isn't about to stop by here anytime soon," Claire piped up, playfully poking her brother in the side to get his attention. "He's too busy doing Pope things, like wearing that hat. Wearing his giant Pope hat… what do you think that huge thing does to the wearer's head?"
Bill hushed her as his brother's taxi drove up, although it was hard for him to keep from laughing a bit himself. As much as he hated being a killjoy, he knew that Irving's years in the seminary meant too much to him to hear his own niece joke about their religion's traditions. Now he wouldn't be able to look at pictures of popes without his mind being dominated by their hats. And he had his own daughter to thank for that. She would come up with something that would always make him laugh at inappropriate times.
Trying not to laugh in church is one of life's little joys.
Irving and his wife were far too serious to notice that.
"Well," Bill smiled and cross his arms in front of his chest, staring down his older brother, "we're here a half hour early, like you requested. Now what do you propose we do for the hour we have to wait?"
Cindy was still rattled from the conversation earlier. She decided not to tell her husband yet, this day meant too much for him to learn Ruth's opinions of the holy word. He knew they we're going to talk about Rick, but they weren't about to discuss what happened in front of Ophelia; both Rick and Claire were too close to her.
"I suggest," Irving started, holding up his hands in thanks, "that we praise God for inspiring the believers who came before us to create this beautiful monument to our faith".
Ruth decided that, since her brother-in-law was almost moved to tears, it would not be a wise move to roll her eyes.
Rick didn't care and did anyways.
Ophelia saw him.
She giggled.
***
Meanwhile, about a block away from the cathedral, another family was making their way to service. They were sprinting as fast as they could, considering they were in their Sunday best and wearing dress shoes. The lady of the house had taken off her powder pink pumps, holding them close to her chest so she wouldn't drop them as she ran at her two sons' heels. A business looking man with slicked back dark brown hair and little toilet paper squares left on his face lead the group.
"Why did you stay up so late last night, Raymond?!" he shouted over his shoulder.
The younger of the two boys stumbled slightly, the sound of his father's voice making him jump slightly. He would have fallen if it wasn't for his red haired mother and older brother catching him. The two redheads glared into the back of the man's head, wishing that he would trip instead. The youngest, a brunette, was just trying not to cry. Crying often just made things worse.
"If you wouldn't have slept in, we would have been able to get there in time! Mass is only one hour, we can't waste any time!"
"I'm sorry," he gasped, trying not to shout his apology over the blood pounding in his ears.
"Sorry doesn't cut it! We even bought tickets for this mass!"
They scampered across the street, seeing two families talking amongst each other. The young redheaded boy had eyes like a hawk, and he saw tickets in their hands. He quickly dug into his pockets and pulled out his own, praying that he wouldn't accidently drop it and slow them down. He couldn't run much faster than what he was going at.
The tickets read 10:15.
He checked his watch.
It was 9:20.
"Are the tickets supposed to say 10:15?" he wondered aloud as they stepped onto the same block as the church.
His father pulled his own ticket out.
Fuck.
He slowed down, the rest of the family slowing down with him and gasping for breath. The lady of the house dropped her shoes on the ground and stepped into them before her husband could turn around and realize that they were off at one point. Both she and Raymond pulled out their tickets, only confirming what was already said.
"Well," the man stated matter-of-factly, "we're here early".
The rest of his family stared at him with that 'no shit' look on their faces.
"We always go to the 9:00 mass!" He said defensively, "I don't know why they would change it for this Sunday. I asked for the choral mass you guys wanted and they gave me this".
"I don't think there's any 9:00 mass today," the woman said softly, indicating a marquee in front of the cathedral that read 7:00, 8:00, 8:45, 10:15 (tickets only), Noon, 1:00, 4:00 and 5:30.
The man grunted. "They should have told us to come at 8:45".
"If they did that, we all would have overslept," she clarified bluntly, only to bite her tongue and quickly regret saying it. She decided to change the subject. "Look, Horatio," she said to her eldest son, "there's a boy over there who looks about your age. He looks bored talking to his sister and her friend. You should say 'hi'".
The little redhead nodded obediently at his mother with a loving smile. He gave his younger brother a little nudge, urging him towards the small crowd. Once they were out of earshot, Raymond let out a little sniffle.
"You're very brave, Ray," the redhead whispered.
"You always say that and I'm always not," he grumbled, trying to sound tough with his voice cracking slightly and giving him away. "Do you think he'll hurt me again because I overslept?"
"I hope not".
"You always say that".
"It ended up not mattering anyways… and I don't like the honest answer".
***
Rick was holding onto the arm of his mother's coat, something he only did when he was tired, bored, or scared. She guessed it was a combination of the first two and pulled him over to the steps leading up to the cathedral.
"Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?"
"I'm tired… and bored… and hungry… and thirsty… and bored… and tired".
She chuckled as she pulled her son close and tried to fix his hair again. He grumbled and pulled out of the way playfully. As much as she wanted to tell Rick that she loved him, he always gets a little worried when it doesn't seem to be prompted by anything. And with those big brown eyes, he could almost always get her to talk about whatever was on her mind. He wasn't ready to hear what Cindy had to say about him. There was no way in hell that he was going to keep quiet about it and not tell his aunt off, he didn't know what a homophile was, but he knew when he was being judged.
"Redhead," Rick mumbled, looking down the street and seeing a boy about his age approaching.
His mother looked up and saw him too. A young boy with the reddest hair she had ever seen. "Yep, he has red hair alright".
"It's pretty… I've never seen one before… only in books and movies".
"He's pretty or his hair?" She had to ask. They played on words so often that it would be strange if she didn't say it. Although she hated reminding herself of the conversation she had with Cindy.
Rick studied the boy for a few seconds before finally saying, "both. I'm going to go say hi".
Ruth blinked as her son climbed off the steps and approached the young ginger. The boys' eyes met and they smiled at each other.
"You have red hair," Rick observed aloud. He never claimed to be good at starting conversation.
"You have a pink tie," the redhead snapped back, assuming that he was being insulted. Lots of people picked on his hair. Compare me to Howdy Doody and I think I'll hit you.
"I like your hair… and I like my tie," Rick shrugged.
"Oh…" this was new. "Thanks. I… I like your tie too".
"Thanks," he grinned, "I think it brings out my complexion".
***
Ruth couldn't take her eyes off of her son and that other boy, sitting on the steps together and talking like they had known each other since birth. Who she presumed to be the redhead's little brother sat near them, bored out of his mind and waiting for one of his friends to show up.
"Is he yours?" a soft voice behind her asked.
Ruth spun around to look right into the ocean blue eyes of a woman with hair a shade that can only be rivaled by the boy Rick was making friends with.
"Yeah," Ruth nodded, "I trust the other two are yours".
"How'd you guess?" she answered sarcastically with a little grin on her lips. She extended an arm, "Joan Caine".
"Ruth Stetler".
She picked up on the accent right away, "You're not from around here, are you?"
"No, we're from Oklahoma. My brother-in-law is studying to become a priest, he always wanted to come to mass here. Bill and I always wanted to go to New York with the kids".
"I hope you're enjoying yourselves".
"Oh we all are. I think Rick will have to be pulled back onto the airplane kicking and screaming, though. He could never want to leave your city".
She smiled and ducked her head slightly, "I just wish Horatio and Ray would realize how many opportunities are here. Not too many cities like this out there".
"Horatio?" Ruth echoed, cocking her head.
Joan looked away for a second. Plenty of other mothers have scolded her for giving him such an unusual name, but a name as common as hers often gets forgotten. Horatio was hardly someone anyone should be forgetting. She wished her husband would have let her name her second child too.
"The older one your son is talking to," she clarified. "I know it's an unusual name, but… I liked it. Horatio Alger, you know".
"It's a beautiful name," Ruth said gently, hoping that she wasn't bringing up a touchy subject.
"Thanks, I think it suits him. And… I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your son's name".
"It's Richard," Ruth smiled with a little shrug, "Named after my grandfather. Granddaddy always went by Dick though. My boy seems to be happy with Rick or Ricky".
"Well… he's absolutely adorable. Those big brown eyes are very becoming. And you have to tell me how you got him to dress up, Horatio won't put on a tie if I paid him… although he likes the rest of the suit".
"Ricky just likes dressing up, and I trained him to wear colorful ties. His father still needs a bit of work though, although I managed to talk him into a nice orange one".
Joan smiled as she looked over at their boys. "I wish you could stay a little longer. I haven't seen Horatio so happy in years".
***
"What's Oklahoma like?" Horatio asked, genuinely curious over the boy with the southern drawl talking to him. "Do they all talk like Rhett Butler?"
Rick giggled at the reference, especially since someone told him once that northerners don't watch films like that. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a… I can't say the rest. Mom'll get mad".
The redhead grinned from ear to ear. He never met anyone so friendly and open before, if only he could stay a little longer. "What's Oklahoma like?" he asked again, still curious.
"Boring. They don't have the lights you have here. The buildings don't get taller than twenty-three stories. There are more museums and theatres on this island than there are in my entire state," Rick thought for a second before he tacked on a final, "and the people aren't as pretty".
"I've never been outside of New York," Horatio admitted, looking down at his feet, "Mom said that she wants me to see Ireland some time soon… but I don't think Aidin would let me".
"Who's Aidin?"
"My father," the boy admitted, wishing that Rick would just drop the subject.
"Why won't he let you? That doesn't sound very nice".
"He… umm… he just gets really busy and doesn't have the time to take us".
"Okay," Rick shrugged, wanting to ask what was bothering Horatio but deciding that he was uncomfortable enough.
The two boys looked up as they heard the congregation get quite chatty. The doors opened and they both rushed back to their mothers. Ruth smiled when she noticed that both her son and Horatio hold onto their mothers' arms the same way.
"Mom?" Rick whispered up to her.
"Hmm?"
"Can we sit by Horatio's family?"
She looked over to Joan, who was obviously just asked a similar question. Noticing the exchange of glances, Bill walked over.
"What's going on here?" he smiled, giving his son a little pat on the head.
"If Irving doesn't mind, we were curious if we could sit with the Caine family," Ruth explained, giving a little nod towards Joan, Horatio, and Ray, who was clinging onto his mother's skirt and swaying from side to side.
"Irv will probably want to sit as close to the pulpit as will be allowed. But if we all go in together, things might work out". He turned to Joan, "is it just the three of you?"
She shook her head, red curls turning golden in the sunlight, "there's also my husband, Aidin".
As she spoke, a tall and muscular man wearing a black suit and white tie walked up to them. He had light brown eyes with what looked like a permanent furrow etched into his brow. His presence was nothing short of intimidating, making Bill take a small step back, but still in front of his wife and son.
He looked down at his wife, this gaze forcing Horatio and Ray to let go of their mother. "Who is this?"
"There are the Stetlers, visiting from Oklahoma. The boys seem to get along, so we were wondering if we could… sit… together… ?"
The hesitation in Joan's voice made Bill weary of her husband and made Ruth sick to her stomach. She heard that tone before and knew that she was looking at a frightened woman and an incredibly insecure yet temperamental man. All she wanted in that moment was to hit him as hard as she knew he was hitting his wife.
She took a deep breath and looked down at Rick instead. As much as Aidin sickened her, she didn't want her eyes to give away her anger. It wouldn't be fair to Rick. Horatio seemed to really care for his mother, which hinted that he could never turn out like his father. Besides, it was rare when Rick made friends… probably because he didn't like doing the "normal" boy things.
Aidin's brow furrowed. He knew that he was being judged. Why didn't any wives know their place nowadays? It's like a conspiracy.
"I have no objections," he said, knowing the little game he had to play.
Ray and Horatio both shared a look before gazing confusedly up at their father. Joan had to bite down on her tongue to keep herself from doing the same thing. This was a front and everyone knew it… but it wasn't worth arguing about. And it wouldn't be fair.
"Okaaaaay," Bill said slowly, thinking as he turned to his wife, "I'm just going to get Claire, see where she and Ophelia are sitting".
Ruth nodded silently, wishing there was something she could do for Joan. Maybe just letting Ricky make her eldest son happy would be the most she could do.