Mary blushed self-consciously and looked warily at Diane, but Diane just reached out her hand and pulled Mary back to sit on the bed next to Claire. Diane took the chair next to the bed.

�Oh goody. It�s story time!� Diane wiggled in her chair like an enthusiastic four-year-old, and in spite of herself, Mary laughed. Claire smiled, but since it hurt to laugh, she did her best to hold it in.

�It�s about Valentine�s Day,� Claire began.

�Oh, no, it�s okay. I understand. You�re not into romantic notions. That�s okay,� Mary said, patting Claire on the arm.

�That�s not it. Not at all,� Claire held Mary�s hand, hoping she would relax long enough to allow her to get the whole story out.

�So, you and Harry both have a problem with Valentine�s Day?� Diane asked, looking puzzled. �How on earth could that happen?�

�In short, his mother, my aunt, was killed on Valentine�s Day, right in front of us,� Claire said solemnly. Mary and Diane shared a shocked gaze, then looked back at Claire, riveted for the rest of the story.

�Delia was her name. She was a hard worker, used to clean rich people�s houses. One of them sent his son to a Jesuit school for boys, and he asked her to clean the school and tend to the boys as well. The money was better than she got at private homes, so she took the job with glee. Harry�s dad was a security guard, so, not rich. But because his mom worked there, Harry and his brothers got to attend the school on a full scholarship. Hell of a perk.�

Claire motioned to Mary to get a sip of water, and Mary and Diane fumbled with the water pitcher, cup and straw to make sure her thirst was slaked. It was hard to be patient and wait for the rest of the story, and Diane couldn�t help fidgeting in her chair a bit once Claire had sipped for a second or two.

�Well, one St. Valentine�s Day years later, Delia came home late from work, bone tired from cleaning all day. See, she and the old man had been fighting a lot about how much time she spent working, and she had planned this big Valentine�s Day romantic dinner to make it all up to him. Every year it was the same thing. She had this romantic notion that she could make it all better by making a big fuss about Valentine�s Day, and every year they got into a big fight over it.

�Anyway, I came over to get the boys and take them to my house for babysitting. Delia and I got there about the same time, and we found my uncle at home, drunk out of his mind.