Free A Season in Purgatory by Dominick Dunne Page A

party and pretend they don’t mind. She’d a godmother to their children but she wouldn’t dream of having them be godmother to any of hers. It’s an unequal friendship.”
    “Are you asking me if that’s what I am?”
    “Yes.”
    “I hope not.”
    “Don’t let him boss you around. He has the tendency to boss.”
    “Don’t go too fast.”
    “I will if I want to.”
    She increased her speed as we got closer to the tree-lined streets of the west side of the city.
    “Great excitement. Sandro’s running for Congress. I bet you didn’t know that.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Congressman Lopez died in office, and Sandro’s going to run for the rest of his term.”
    “Isn’t he awfully young?”
    “He’s almost twenty-six. Pa doesn’t think he’s too young. Pa says he has charisma.”
    “Is he qualified?”
    “The Catholics will all vote for him. Pa will see to that.”
    “That’s not an answer.”
    “Winning is all that matters. Family motto. We all used to think my brother Desmond would be the first to run for office. After Jerry’s accident. But he wanted to be a doctor, and then he married a maid. Did you know that?”
    “I think I may have heard something about it.”
    “Oh, the to-do over that. Ma’s tears. Pa’s rage. The cardinal placating. Poor Rosleen. She didn’t know what hit her. She was quite pretty, but there was no way she would do at all. My father said to Desmond, ‘You sleep with girls like that. You don’t marry them.’ Poor Bridey, the cook, I felt so sorry for Bridey. She was Bridey’s second cousin, or in-law, or something, I can never keep all Bridey’s relations straight. We’re all meant to marry well, you know. Constant is always supposed to bring home boys from Milford for Mary Pat and me to meet, but you’re the only one he’s ever brought.”
    I couldn’t help but feel that I was somewhat of a disappointment in that department.
    “Of course, all my friends at the convent are mad about Constant. But whenever I bring any of them home, he doesn’t even look at them. He just likes girls like Weegie Somerset. You wait and see. He’ll marry a Protestant when the time comes. Oh, and the to-do about that when it happens, if he doesn’t marry a Catholic.”
    “I’ve never heard a family talk about being Catholic as much as your family does.”
    “But you’re Catholic.”
    “But we didn’t talk about it all the time. I think you’re driving too fast.”
    “I can’t imagine what happened between Constant and Weegie. Something. I mean, they didn’t invite any of us to the party, and Mr. Somerset owes my father a lot of money. My father will get even with Mr. Somerset. My father always gets even. They say that’s Irish, getting even.”
    “Slow down, Kitt.”
    “Oh. You’re right. There’s a policeman behind us. Red light flashing.”
    “You’d better pull over. What about the license?”
    “Just keep quiet and let me do the talking.”
    It was an un-Christmas Christmas in the Bradley mansion. There were wreaths on the doors and electrified candles in the windows, but there was no Christmas tree. The house, usually bustling with noise from so many occupants, seemed eerily quiet. Constant’s presents had been left on the bench in the hall beneath the stairway, as well as two for me, one from Grace and one from Kitt, but he exhibited no curiosity about them in the days before Christmas. By then I was used to his spoiledness, his sullenness, his occasional bad temper, especially when he drank, but I was still in his thrall, and overlooked such deficiencies, as they were rarely directed toward me. When he wasn’t the absolute center of attention, he was restless. He whistled little tunes under his breath, or paced, or tapped his foot incessantly, or snapped his fingers, or cracked his knuckles, or beat time to a song on the radio.
    “You’re not relaxing to be around,” Kitt said to him before she left for Florida.
    Constant looked up, surprised, as if