...And Never Let HerGo

Republican. It was the position as Castle’s chief counsel. The job paid about half of what Tom could have made at the law firms that had tendered job offers, but it was an honor to be asked to advise a governor on complicated legal issues. And it was an excellent way for him to move back into public service.
    Tom Capano, not yet forty, now had an enviable reputation not only in Wilmington but in the whole state of Delaware. The Attorney General’s Office was responsible for defending the state in all matters, but as Castle’s chief counsel, Tom would be called upon to advise the governor on the constitutionality of all pending legislation. The prestige factor alone was more than enough to make up for any diminution of his salary. And of course, Tom shared in the legacy his father had left for his sons; he would never hurt for money. He could well afford to accept Castle’s offer.
    For some reason, Tom always played down his wealth, although he was probably worth $4 million or more by the early nineties. He and Kay still lived in their sprawling bishop’s residence, but they didn’t have a beach house as his brothers and sister did. “When I go to the shore,” he said, “I mooch off my mother.” He and Kay drove utilitarian vehicles rather than high-priced trophy cars, but of course, their daughters all went to private schools and money was not a problem.
    While Tom was advising Governor Castle on legal issues, another of his brothers embarrassed the family. It seemed that Tom was always having to put out little fires set by his siblings. Joey was a handsome devil, and he had a beautiful wife, Joanne, and four children. But he also had a woman he had been seeing on the side for at least nine years. She had once been the baby-sitter for Joey’s children, and she was a decade younger than he was. When they began as lovers, the girl was so young that Joey often had to dash out the back door of her house just as her parents were coming in the frontentrance. Infatuated with him when she was a teenager, the girl had grown up and come to understand that there was no future in their relationship, as passionate and volatile as it was, and she broke off with Joey.
    Joey couldn’t stand the idea of her being with anyone else. He had finally separated from his long-suffering wife in an attempt to win back his paramour. Then on Halloween night 1991, Joey was in the grip of a sexual obsession that took him way across the line, both in terms of rekindling his affair and with regard to the law.
    While her horrified sister looked on, he crashed into the young woman’s home, literally carried her away, and held her captive while he forced her to have sex with him. When she was finally able to escape, she went to the police and Joey was charged with kidnapping and rape. Once more, Tom had to walk a fragile tightrope between the authorities and a brother. In the end, with Tom’s coaching, Joey pleaded guilty to misdemeanor charges of assault, unlawful sexual contact, and criminal mischief. His ex-lover had relented and asked that the felony charges be dropped. It was a plea bargain that let Joey walk away from prison time for the very serious charges
and
gave him a promise from the state that he would not be charged with assaulting his girlfriend in two earlier incidents.
    Eventually, Joey and his wife reconciled, and the rest of the family could sigh with relief. It was just one more thing for Tom to deal with in 1991, which had already been a difficult year. His job was very demanding and he was quickly in the middle of a crushing deadline to complete the construction of a women’s prison and an addition to Gander Hill, the prison in Wilmington. He helped bring the projects in on time, giving credit to his connections with the city. But it was probably predictable that he would develop some physical manifestation of the stress he lived under. He was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. His gut bled.
    And yet there was no doubt at all that Tom relished his role as the governor’s adviser, his family’s cleanup man and shining example, the father of four lovely girls, and husband to Kay—and lover-adviser to Debby—just as he appeared almost to enjoy being the put-upon martyr, the man who had every right in the world to occasionally demonstrate a mercurial temperament with his women. People expected too goddamned much of him, often treated him badly—at least in his eyes—and didn’t give him the allowances he