“How is he getting along?”
“Fine. They have him working in the prison machine shop. He asked me to give you his regards.”
“I’ll have to visit him myself one day soon.”
Father Ryan sat in his chair, staring at her, until Jennifer said, “Is there something I can do for you, Father?”
He brightened. “Ah, well, I know you must be busy, but now that you’ve brought it up, a friend of mine has a bit of a problem. She was in an accident. I think you’re just the one to help her.”
Automatically Jennifer replied, “Have her come in and see me, Father.”
“I think you’ll have to go to her. She’s a quadruple amputee.”
Connie Garrett lived in a small, neat apartment on Houston Street. The door was opened for Jennifer by an elderly white-haired woman wearing an apron.
“I’m Martha Steele, Connie’s aunt. I live with Connie. Please come in. She’s expecting you.”
Jennifer walked into a meagerly furnished living room. Connie Garrett was propped up with pillows in a large armchair. Jennifer was shocked by her youth. For some reason, she had expected an older woman. Connie Garrett was about twenty-four, Jennifer’s age. There was a wonderful radiance in her face, and Jennifer found it obscene that there was only a torso with no arms or legs attached to it. She repressed a shudder.
Connie Garrett gave her a warm smile and said, “Please sit down, Jennifer. May I call you Jennifer? Father Ryan has told me so much about you. And, of course, I’ve seen you on television. I’m so glad you could come.”
Jennifer started to reply, “My pleasure,” and realized how inane it would have sounded. She sat down in a soft comfortable chair opposite the young woman.
“Father Ryan said you were in an accident a few years ago. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“It was my fault, I’m afraid. I was crossing an intersection and I stepped off the sidewalk and slipped and fell in front of a truck.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Three years ago last December. I was on my way to Bloomingdale’s to do some Christmas shopping.”
“What happened after the truck hit you?”
“I don’t remember anything. I woke up in the hospital. They told me that an ambulance brought me there. There was an injury to my spine. Then they found bone damage and it kept spreading until—” She stopped and tried to shrug. It was a pitiful gesture. “They tried to fit me with artificial limbs, but they don’t work on me.”
“Did you bring suit?”
She looked at Jennifer, puzzled. “Father Ryan didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“My lawyer sued the utility company whose truck hit me, and we lost the case. We appealed and lost the appeal.”
Jennifer said, “He should have mentioned that. If the appellate court turned you down, I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done.”
Connie Garrett nodded. “I didn’t really believe there was. I just thought—well, Father Ryan said you could work miracles.”
“That’s his territory. I’m only a lawyer.”
She was angry with Father Ryan for having given Connie Garrett false hope. Grimly, Jennifer decided she would have a talk with him.
The older woman was hovering in the background. “Can I offer you something, Miss Parker? Some tea and cake, perhaps?”
Jennifer suddenly realized she was hungry, for she had had no time for lunch. But she visualized sitting opposite Connie Garrett while she was being fed by hand, and she could not bear the thought.
“No, thanks,” Jennifer lied. “I just had lunch.”
All Jennifer wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible. She tried to think of some cheering note she could leave on, but there was nothing. Damn Father Ryan!
“I—I’m really sorry. I wish I—”
Connie Garrett smiled and said, “Please don’t worry about it.”
It was the smile that did it. Jennifer was sure if she had been in Connie Garrett’s place she would never have been able to smile.
“Who was your lawyer?” Jennifer heard herself asking.
“Melvin Hutcherson. Do you know him?”
“No, but I’ll look him up.” She went on, without meaning to, “I’ll have a talk with him.”