Last Dance, Last Chance

to ask the judge to give him.
    Debbie was shocked to think that a neighbor she had liked and trusted had believed Anthony’s lies about her, but she laughed when Shelly told her that he even had the temerity to call her. There wasn’t a friend in the world who was more of a mother hen watching over Debbie than Shelly Palombaro.
     
    Back at home with their mother, and in a new public school, Ralph and Lauren Pignataro blossomed. Sustained by their sure belief that their mother loved them, neither of them had ever buckled under the tragedy that tore through their lives. Their report cards in November spoke for their determination not to let their father’s crimes rub off on them.
    Ralph was in the eighth grade, and every one of his teachers noted that his effort was excellent and that he was “a pleasure to have in class.” He received two 99s, two 98s, and a 96. In grade six, Lauren was rated just as high, with six A’s and two A-pluses.
     
    And still, Anthony continued to write his manipulative letters from prison. His sentencing was two months away, and he was afraid. He begged Debbie not to cut him off from his children: “You [once] said that jail is not the answer, that I should get therapy. They are my therapy, especially during the holidays. Please reconsider. I’m sorry. Love, Anthony.”
    To Ralph and Lauren (November 18, 2000): “Ralph and Lauren, Sometimes I just need to talk. Do not block the calls. I need you both, especially now at the holidays. Please!! Love, Dad.”
    “…I know I made a mistake, and I’m so sorry. It hurts me every day. I need my children…May be you can visit me at the holidays…I’m so sorry I messed everything up.
    “I feel so sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused. Please talk to me…I am so thankful you could forgive me, but please do not forget about me…
    “Please forgive me. It was a very hard time for me back then & and I made a very bad mistake…Please try to talk to me…I’m so sorry.”
    As Christmas 2000 approached the litany in the letters Anthony scrawled to his children was repeated on and on and on. Sometimes Ralph accepted his phone calls. Sometimes he and Lauren sent a photograph or two. But they didn’t really believe in him any more.
    They hadn’t been able to take Polo back into their home, despite their father’s entreaties. But Debbie promised them they would find a dog. She had no money to buy a puppy, but she would find a way.
    “We went to a football game at school, and some kids were giving away yellow Labrador retrievers,” Debbie said. “There was only one left, but she was perfect for us—meant for us, I think. We call her Gabby.”
    In December 2000, Anthony sent a card to Debbie:
    To My Wife, With Love at Christmas
    It’s Love that makes Christmas so special…
    Merry Christmas with Love
    He added his own sentiment:
    My heart aches so, Baby, and I don’t know what
    to say to you right now. Except I’m sorry.
    Anthony… You know my heart.
    Indeed she did. Debbie opened the Christmas card with hands that could no longer feel, her nerves deadened as if they’d been injected with Novocain. She couldn’t decorate their Christmas tree because she no longer had small muscle control. She couldn’t kneel. She directed from her chair as Ralph and Lauren scrambled to hang the familiar ornaments. Ralph put up the Christmas lights.
    Anthony’s romantic card was shamelessly obvious. He meant to swing Debbie back over to his side. A supportive letter from the victim herself would surely have an impact on his sentence length.
    Perhaps it didn’t occur to him that because he had tried to plot murder for hire in jail, his mail was censored. Oblivious to this, he wrote to his mother, imploring her to intervene with Debbie:
    12–6–00
    Mom
    Hi, it’s snowing pretty good down here now.
    Please think about what I asked you. Even if it’s all phoney & you don’t truly mean it, you could do it for me.
    You will never have to see her again anyway.
    What she tells Judge Rossetti will determine how much time he gives me.
    Every Day that you save me is worth it.
    You wouldn’t have to see her, you could just call on the phone and be nice.
    I know it would kill you but it will help me.
    If you have any doubts, ask Joel. I’m sure it didn’t help for her to hear that you called Carmine fat again and that you told [a mutual friend] that you’ll never get along with her again. Especially now in these critical days when she will speak to