Sweet Jesus by Christine Pountney Read Free Book Online Page B

I’m actually starting to value my privacy. And her sister had made some noise of relief.
    Hannah was staring down at her empty plate and now Mona Terrence’s soft white arm was slowly reaching across her lap. Hannah almost caressed it before she realized Mona was after her plate. Let me help you with that, Hannah said, pushing back on her chair.
    You have to believe the fact that you’re loveable, Norm had said earlier. They’d been walking to the dinner party, and Hannah had her finger hooked through one of his belt loops.
    But it’s the hardest thing for me to do.
    Why? he said. People like you, I can tell.
    I have a history of failed relationships.
    How come, Norm said, when a bad thing happens, it cancels out all the other times when good things happen?
    As soon as they had arrived at Florence’s, Mona Terrence said, Did Norm’s sister make that?
    What, this? Hannah asked, touching a brooch made of small black feathers she’d pinned to her blazer.
    Looks like something his sister would make.
    Norm doesn’t like it, Hannah said.
    Well,
I
think it’s gorgeous, Mona said, apparently enjoying the flagrant trumping of Norm’s opinion. Mona Terrence was Norman Peach’s closest friend and they were like bear cubs, cuffing each other constantly about the ears. Already tonight she’d asked Norm twice in front of Hannah when he was moving back home, as if his life with Hannah in Toronto wasn’t even a consideration.
    Hannah followed Mona into Florence’s bright yellow kitchen. Mona’s running shoes were making a kissing noise on the linoleum. So, how are things these days? Hannah sounded falsely optimistic.
    Mona swung around to face her. Well, I’m putting a lot of work into Kinshasa, she practically shouted.
    Who?
    The Congo.
    Oh, Hannah said.
    It’s a humanitarian crisis! Mona raised her eyebrows at the obviousness of what should not have been missed. Thousands of children are being accused of witchcraft?
    I didn’t know that, Hannah said.
    They’re being thrown out of their homes and tortured, Mona said. This one girl, her mother got sick, then the generator broke down, and they blamed her for it. They tried to drown her in a sack, and when she escaped, they took her to a priest who performed an exorcism that included branding her with an iron and forcing her to eat a bar of soap.
    That’s
terrible
, Hannah said.
    She’s only nine years old. There’s going to be a nationwide charity drive next week. I’m organizing the whole event. It’s the biggest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
    Big as in size? Hannah said. Or big as in important?
    Both, Mona said and turned to Florence, who was staring into her fridge. Flo, do you need help with dessert?
    I had a salmon-coloured fridge once, Florence said dreamily, that lit up from the bottom. It made everything glow like a Gilbert and Sullivan production. And Flo crossed her hands like fans under her chin and batted her eyelashes.
    There was whisky in the living room after dessert. Hannah felt unlaced and drunk. What time was it? She was sitting on the floor facing the sofa, talking to Mona’s husband. His face reflected a certain curiosity. He was taking an interest and it was encouraging her.
    I was in Venice a few weeks ago, she said, half-reclined on her elbow. For my friend Ursula Bishop’s wedding? We took a boat to the reception, just stepped off this boat, right into this medieval palazzo, and all the Italian men with their shaved heads, wearing sunglasses and beautiful suits. The groom gave a speech and halfway through, this guy he’s known since he was like, six years old, started heckling him and said, go fuck your mother, in Italian.
    Mona’s husband said, What’s go fuck your mother in Italian?
    Mona turned and said, What is this, a joke?
    It was a wedding, Hannah said.
Via tua madre
.
    What did you say?
    She said, go fuck your mother.
    That’s what the guy said. And they came down hard on him, so he got his coat, as they say, and