Chapter Forty-Nine Sassy
forty-nine SASSY
Calm down, Sass. You’ve got everything organized. You have nothing to worry about.”
“What are you talking about?” Sassy snapped. “Everything has to be perfect.”
Tom wrapped his big, warm hands around her upper arms and forced her onto one of the airport waiting room’s hard plastic chairs. They’d arrived an hour before the plane was expected, which she was aware was way too early, but he hadn’t balked. He simply accepted her craziness and went along with it.
To a point.
“Everything is perfect,” he said, purposefully calm.
“But where is everyone?”
“You told them seven o’clock. It’s only six thirty.”
“Do you have the banner?”
He held up the long paper flag they’d made the night before. “Right here.”
She regarded it with concern. “You folded it. Is it going to look all right?”
“Sassy, we scotch-taped eight pieces of paper together so it all fit. We had to fold it. It’ll look fantastic.” He sank into the chair beside her. “Know what, though? Joey won’t even notice it. He’ll be so happy to see you, nothing else will matter.”
Her chin quivered. “Joey’s coming home.”
He hugged her tight. “Maybe he can be my best man.”
Smart man. He’d known he could distract her from tears with that. “You’re gonna like him, Tom. He’s kind of like me, but weirder. He’s got even more energy. I don’t know how he will be now, but… Think you’ll like him?”
“I know I will.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, look who’s here!”
She jumped up. “Who? Oh! Everyone came together! My gosh!”
She was shocked to see that Mrs. Moore had managed to talk Mr. Moore into a wheelchair for the occasion, and even more surprising, he was wearing an army uniform, just like the one in her father’s photograph. And there were the Levins and the Romanos—and they’d brought someone else she didn’t know, who was also in uniform. She was curious, but too happy to question anything. They’d explain, she knew.
She left Tom in her wake as she rushed to the group, swallowing tears. “Thank you all for coming! This means so much to me!”
Hank Moore nodded with approval. “Good for you, Sassy. Your dad would be proud.”
Mr. Romano cleared his throat in a meaningful way, then he and the rest of the neighbours gathered around the man she didn’t know, who appeared to be about the same age as the others. He was small and lean, and he looked more than a little uncomfortable in a uniform that was too large, but he stood still as stone. The only thing that moved were his eyes. He wore thick round glasses that made them look huge, and they darted constantly from side to side, as if he sought escape.
“Sassy, we want to introduce you to someone,” Mr. Romano said.
The stranger lifted his chin and looked directly at Sassy. His face, she saw, had been cut and slashed into multiple scars across his brow, through his cheek, and disappearing into his chin.
“Hello,” she said carefully.
“This is Dickie Roy of the Black Watch of Canada,” Mr. Romano said. “He was a member of one of the world’s most elite sniper units.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Roy,” she said, but she didn’t step any closer. Something about the man made her nervous.
Mr. Roy did not smile. Considering all his scars, she wondered if he still could.
“I’m here for your brother and the other men,” he said sharply, but he didn’t sound angry. His expression was set, though his eyes continued to scan the airport waiting room. He was constantly scouting. Fully aware of his surroundings at all times. “The men and women serving in Vietnam deserve respect and gratitude. I’m here for them.”
“Thank you,” she said, still confused.
Mrs. Levin came to her side. When she looked at Mr. Roy, her expression was one of deepest respect.
“Sassy,” she said quietly, “Mr. Roy is one of our neighbours. He wanted to join us today.”
Sassy frowned, feeling a little stupid. She’d thought she knew everyone on the floor.
Mrs. Romano slid in on Sassy’s other side, keeping her back to the others so they could speak in private. “We don’t know what he did in the past, but your father sent Mr. Roy to Isabella Street and has been paying his rent for the past twenty years. This is the first time many of us have spoken with him.”
“I don’t remember ever seeing him,” Sassy whispered.
“No, you wouldn’t.” Mrs. Romano exchanged a glance with Mrs. Levin. “But you’ve seen where he lives. It’s the door across from the elevator that opens and closes every time you walk by.”
Sassy’s jaw dropped. Mr. Snoop.
Mrs. Levin’s expression was sad. “His only son went to Vietnam. He came home a year or so ago, but he struggled.” Her brow creased. “He took his own life back in December.”
“Oh no!” Sassy stepped toward him.
Mrs. Romano took her arm. “Move slowly, Sassy. He is easily alarmed.”
“I’m very sorry to hear what happened to your son,” Sassy said, and paused briefly the old sniper’s eyes. He stared at her, showing no emotion whatsoever, then he blinked and broke the spell.
“Thank you. He deserved respect, just like these boys.”
“Yes, he did,” Sassy said, her heart breaking for both him and his son. He could have been Joey. He could have been Daniel.
Hank Moore glanced up. “Is Marcus coming?”
She had worried about that. “I left a message with his wife, but they live pretty far away, and—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hart!” Tom exclaimed behind her. He strode past, holding out his hand. “And you must be Marion’s sister, Pat.”
“Thank you so much for coming!” Sassy said again, flustered. Marion would be so surprised. “I know this was an inconvenience—”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Hart said, and Sassy saw a glimpse of Marion in his smile. “We’re glad you let us know when she’d be home.” He walked past her, toward the others, then stopped short. “Dickie? My God. Is that you?”
“Marcus.”
Sassy spotted a tiny crack in the sniper’s composure, and it almost broke her. The hint of a smile. A vague glossiness in his sharp eyes. A sign that he had once been a young man, and a friend.
“It’s good to see you,” Mr. Roy said, sounding slightly hoarse.
Beside her, Mrs. Levin clutched Mrs. Romano’s arm. Sassy caught them both valiantly sucking back sobs.
Sassy had called only one other family, but she’d known they wouldn’t be able to come. Daniel’s parents were practically on the other side of the country. Still, she thought they should know what was happening with their son, so she had looked them up and phoned. She had ended up talking with Daniel’s mother, Grace, for a long time. She’d have loved to meet her in person. At least she could tell Daniel that she’d tried.
A garbled announcement came over the public address system, and Tom pointed toward a window. “The plane’s here.”