UnCatholic Conduct

by Stevie Mikayne

  “It turned up mysteriously in my office.” Jess’s eyes probed hers. But Jil wasn’t letting anything slip.

  “I’m glad.”

  She let silence fill the space for a moment longer, but Jess didn’t change the subject.

  “So what happened with Lily?”

  Jess flinched—whether it was from the admission she was about to make, or because of the way things had gone with this woman—and Jil had an almost irresistible impulse to reach across the table and hold on to Jess’s hand, just to make it easier. But if this wasn’t bad enough already—being in a public place—that would make it ten times worse.

  “Lily was…an artist,” said Jess. “She was absolutely beautiful. She sculpted—amazingly. Very talented.”

  “What did she sculpt?”

  “Nudes, mostly. Men and women. Women and women. Whatever. She had some pieces in the National Art Gallery a few years back. Last year too, actually.”

  “Lily…Not Lily Anderson?” Jil said, squinting.

  “You know her work?”

  “Yes, actually. My—” She stopped, realizing she had been about to say “my boss.” “Friend,” she interrupted herself, “is an art fan. I think he has one of her pieces on his desk. It’s a woman cradling a baby.”

  “Yep. That would be her.”

  “Wow,” Jil said, impressed. She loved that sculpture. Had no idea why Padraig, of all people, would treasure it, but Padraig was nothing if not surprising.

  “But you aren’t with her anymore.”

  “No.”

  Jil waited again, but Jess’s face had closed.

  “She found someone else,” she said simply. “A better partner, a better lover, I don’t know. Someone who could dote on her and appreciate her art.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “What? Appreciate her art? As much as I could, but she wanted someone who could go out to functions with her. Who could hang on her arm and…”

  “And you couldn’t.”

  “No.”

  Jil felt like she was pulling a very painful stitch out of Jess’s skin, and that any small snag might send her screaming from the room. Still, she knew there was more.

  “And what happened?”

  “The other shoe dropped. It was just too much weight in our already heavy fairy tale. I turned thirty-five and suddenly developed a problem with my joints.”

  “Like an arthritis?”

  “Sort of. My hips and hands swell and get stiff. Not very attractive when…” She blushed and shook her head. “Anyway, she was younger, of course, so this was like a giant Old Age symbol.”

  “You are kind of young for that, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. Just a bit.”

  “And she…?”

  “She broke it off, changed her number like I was some stalker.”

  “Jess, I’m really sorry.”

  Jess swallowed hard and tried to smile. “At least I have my very fulfilling career,” she muttered.

  And there it was. Exactly the reason why both of them were in that room, in that booth, in the darkest corner of the restaurant. Because of their very fulfilling careers. Jil couldn’t walk away from her investigation; Jess couldn’t compromise her professional integrity.

  “How the hell can you stand working there?”

  Jess shrugged. “One day at a time, I guess. Same as you.”

  “But why did you go into this, when there are a thousand other jobs you could do that would be easier?”

  “Easier? Who said I wanted easier?”

  “Yeah, okay. But you could at least settle for honesty. Don’t you hate having to lie?”

  “And are you asking me these questions, or yourself?” Jess demanded. “You’re walking the same path I am, Julia, but you don’t have the seniority to protect you.”

  “I don’t need that kind of protection,” Jil said. “And I don’t lie, either.”

  “There’s no need to lie. People don’t ask, and that’s the whole point. There may be rumors—not that I’ve heard any—but I doubt anyone would ever challenge me directly.” She looked over her shoulder, leaned in farther as if she were afraid the walls were listening.

  “What about indirectly?” Jil pressed, everything in her heart making her want to blurt out the one fact that would get Jessica to open her eyes to the situation. Someone was investigating her. Someone sitting at the very same table, nursing an almost-empty whiskey sour.

  “You mean, having to come to work every day and preach a system that thinks my relationship with Lily was an abomination?” Jess said, a trace of amusement still around her mouth. “No, you’re right. It is difficult to be surrounded by people who think so.”

  “Yes!”

  “Julia, it’s not like I deliberately set out to do this. When I first started teaching in the Catholic Board, it wasn’t complicated. I was married.”

  “To Mick?”

  “We’ve been married for ten years.”

  “Wait, you’re not divorced?”

  “No.”

  No wonder Jil couldn’t find any divorce records at the courthouse. “Well, then how were you and Lily…”

  Jess sighed, before taking a slow sip of her drink. “I never quite know how to explain this to people.”

  “What?”

  “Our situation.”

  “Well, I have time.”

  Jess sighed. “Six years ago, Mick was on a hunting trip with his buddies. It was deer season, and there were a group of them that always liked to go together. It was dark when they left in the morning, and they were excited about the first trip of the season. Of course Mick hadn’t ever driven an ATV before…”

  “Jess…”

  “It’s okay. I can tell you. They were almost to the edge of the woods. He was driving pretty fast, and something came loose behind him, so he reached back to grab it before it fell off.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Jess exhaled slowly. “His ATV hit a tree stump, and he went flying. His buddies told me he just went sailing into that tree. Hit his head.”

  “He died?” Jil whispered.

  Jess leaned back against the bench and twirled her wine. “No,” she said softly. “He didn’t die. They got him to the hospital and put him on some machines, just to wait to see if he would eventually come around.”

  “He was in a coma, you mean?”

  “He had a severe concussion, but they wanted to give him a chance. See if they could reduce the swelling and get him back. But he hasn’t come out of it yet.”

  “Are you saying he’s still in a coma?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “And you’re still married?”

  “In sickness and in health,” Jess whispered. “The September after it happened, I became the VP at St. Catherine’s. Nobody knew me there. Nobody knew Mick. They just saw my wedding ring and the picture of him on my desk and assumed…so no one talked to me about my personal life.”

  “Never?”

  “If they did, I switched the topic.”

  Jil sighed. “But doesn’t that drive you crazy? How can you get to know your colleagues, and how can they get to know you if you can’t participate in any conversations?”

  “I don’t need to get up close and personal with my staff.”

  Jil pressed her tongue into her cheek, and leaned back, deliberately not stating the obvious.

  Jess shot her a look, acknowledging the clear exception. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I will admit that occasionally it’s hard to live my life in a box.”

  “Occasionally?”

  “Well, when I met Lily…”

  “Yeah, exactly. How would you explain that?”

  “You get used to it, really. The more you learn to just go along every day, talking only about work—speaking vaguely about your weekend, only using ‘I,’ never ‘we.’ It’s amazing how quickly it becomes routine.”

  “But it’s wrong, Jess. It’s wrong that you have to hide who you are in order to keep your job.”

&nb
sp; She shrugged. “Yes, it’s true. But it’s the only way I can do what I love to do.”

  “Why not switch? Why not go over to the public board?”

  Jess smiled wanly—looked down at her hands. “I’ve thought about it,” she said quietly. “Really. But there didn’t seem to be any reason I should have to. My superiors at the board know about Mick. They say nothing to me, because they don’t want to be indelicate. And honestly, even if I were divorced, it probably wouldn’t matter that much. Divorce really isn’t uncommon. If you don’t discuss it openly with your students, no one faults you for it.”

  “But it’s still in the contract, is it not?”

  “Yes. Technically, it is. And technically, if someone wanted to make an issue out of it, a divorced teacher could be challenged. But to be perfectly honest, the only thing people really take issue with is ‘living in sin,’ especially if there’s a pregnancy.”

  “Sure. Or several children and no marriage certificate. I know for a fact that some of the teachers are living together and they’re certainly not married.”

  Jess raised an eyebrow. “And that wouldn’t be something I’d want to hear about.”

  Jil rolled her eyes. “Point taken. But it still happens.”

  “Of course it does. You think I don’t know that there are members of my staff who have kids together and only wear rings because it’s convenient? Of course I know. Ninety percent of the staff couldn’t explain Advent or Lent or any other religious observation. There are at least three gay teachers, present company excluded. I don’t want to know. Living in sin—together but unmarried, or together and gay—that’s the biggie. And that’s what we don’t talk about.”

  Jil sighed. This was all very interesting, but all way too close to home for her to be comfortable. Still, she had to ask.

  “So what about you?”

  Jess exhaled a long breath, then tilted her head up, her eyes locking with Jil’s, deep with mystery and intelligence. God, she was beautiful.

  “Too personal.”

  “Really?”

  Jess just closed her eyes and leaned back a little, her cheek pressed into the bench, like she was trying to physically ward off the impulse to spill everything. “I can’t, Julia.”

  “Tell me.”

  Jess shook her head. Her lips twisted to one side like she was trying not to cry. “Religious education,” she said with a note of irony. “Couldn’t you have taught gym or something?”

  Jil shrugged. “I’m fascinated with faith. Basketball doesn’t do it for me. Neither does calculus. You know, there are plenty of jobs for engineers out in the world. Just saying.”

  Jess shrugged. “I just can’t imagine giving it up. Honestly. I love teaching. I love the school. It’s what keeps me going. When Lily left, I thought maybe I could flip the switch back, that maybe it was just her. I know I can’t be in a relationship with a woman and work in the Catholic school board, but I also know that I can’t change who I am, and that I can’t give up my job. So I just keep going, day after day, hoping that something will change.”

  “Well,” Jil said, her analytical mind working out a loophole. “You’re technically not a lesbian. Technically, you had a past transgression. I assume you went to Confession?”

  “Of course. I was still married. It was an affair, and I had to confess it.”

  “So, now you’re on hiatus.”

  “Sort of like you?” Jess said, smiling a little.

  “Kind of.”

  “Do you want some advice?” Jess asked frankly.

  “Sure.”

  “Get out now. While you still have time to build a career somewhere else. Go public. It’ll be a lot easier.”

  “What if I don’t want easier?”

  “Well, then, you’re asking for trouble. But then again, I guess I’m playing with fire tonight too.”

  “How so?”

  Jess just stared at her, hard.

  Jil felt her breath constrict. “Oh,” she muttered. Then, a few moments later, “What makes you think you can trust me?”

  Jess cocked her head to the side, her eyes locking on Jil’s again in that strange way that sent electricity running from the base of her neck straight down to her knees. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t believe you would sell out. And so I don’t think you would betray a friend. A confidence.”

  “But what if someone asked me directly?”

  Jess thought for a moment. Perhaps this wasn’t something she’d considered. Then she shook her head. “They won’t. They don’t ask. And we don’t tell.”

  The appetizers came, and Jil asked for a glass of wine. “Just a six-ounce,” she said. She still had to drive Jess home.

  “What about you?” Jess asked. “What’s your story?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Were you ever married?”

  “Nope. Got a long line of broken hearts to prove it,” Jil joked, looking down.

  “No one serious?”

  “Not really. Not until Tara.”

  “How long ago—”

  “Almost a year. She’s engaged to some guy she used to work with, and they’re expecting a baby sometime after Christmas.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “Does that, um, happen often?”

  “That I turn women straight, you mean?”

  “No! That women go back to men.”

  Jil looked at her. She seemed genuinely curious. Maybe she still believed she’d be one of the one-off lesbians. Which was yet another reason Jil should stay as far away from her as possible.

  If only she didn’t feel like invisible strings connected their every move…

  “So Tara was it? There was no one else?”

  She shook her head. Keep your distance. “I’ve never been really good with the whole U-Haul deal. I like my own space. I like to own my own things. Come and go, work when I like, you know?”

  Jil’s wine arrived, and she twirled it around, watching the dark burgundy liquid leave a clear trace around the sides of her glass as she tipped it delicately back and forth. Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Why do restaurants do that?

  “Coming home to one person can be nice too,” Jess said.

  “If it’s the right person.”

  “Yes. Not like my parents, for example.” Jess shook her head. “Good Catholics, right to the end. Even if it meant sleeping in separate rooms and having designated shower and kitchen-use times.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Jess laughed. “Nope. Their latest silent match has lasted at least three years. Once, they had one that lasted from the time I was seven to the time I was eleven. I don’t know what that one was about, but then one day, they just started talking again, and it was like it had never happened. She said, ‘I’ve made pancakes,’ and he said, ‘I’ll have syrup with that,’ and they just picked back up talking again.”

  “Jess, that’s awful!”

  “Well, they’re just so ridiculous that you have to laugh. All week they don’t speak to each other, but Mom still cooks all the meals, and Dad still does all the banking. He gets up in the morning, and she bangs his bacon and eggs down in front of him, then goes into the living room and has her coffee. Then, when he’s finished, she makes herself some toast while he goes out. She cleans and he reads. Then, she bangs down his ham sandwich and she watches TV while he eats. The only time they get together is to go to Mass, when they meet in the car and drive in silence all the way to the church. Hey, God! Just so you know, we’re mortally unhappy, but we’re still hanging on to our vows, come hell or high water!”

  “I can’t imagine that,” Jil said. “Sooner or later, I’d snap.”

  “No kidding. I almost killed them myself years ago. Funny enough, they both agreed I should be in teachers’ college, not in engineering.”

  “Yeah, well, nothing like a wayward daughter to bring a family closer together. Hey, it’s not like you came home pregnant, or anything out of wedlock, rig
ht?”

  “No,” Jess murmured. And there was a sadness around her mouth that made Jil regret her words.

  “Sorry,” she said, searching Jess’s face, “I didn’t think.”

  “No, no. I just…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I always wanted a baby, but it just never happened for Mick and me. I still wonder if I could have one, someone to hold and rock and love like crazy. I want a family. I want to buy backpacks and school clothes, and go to parent-teacher interviews, sitting on the other side of the table.” The tremble in her voice made Jil chuck inhibitions and reach across the table, folding her warm hand over Jess’s. There it was—that electric heat. The jolt. The instant connection.

  Jess took her hand away and smiled ruefully. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  Jil looked down. “Ever think of adoption?”

  “The adoption option. Yes, I’m familiar with it. They’re dying to give out babies to single mothers who work a seven-day stretch.”

  “What about an older kid? One who already needs backpacks and parent-teacher interviews?”

  Jess smiled. “I might think about it. Hey, if you can get a Great Dane, surely I can get a five-year-old, right?”

  “Sure. It’s just like online shopping. Click on the picture, add it to your cart.”

  Jess laughed out loud this time. When the server brought the check, Jess reached for it. Jil gently pried it out of her hands.

  It was worth the business expense to have found a technicality that would give Jil a valid excuse to check Jess off her list. Her relationship with Lily had been an indiscretion. A fluke. Not a lifestyle.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Outside, the snowplows were already out. Five centimeters had fallen, and it was still coming down fast. Jil and Jess picked their way carefully through the snow and ice to where the on-loan Jimmy stood waiting. The sudden wind pushed hard against them. “I can barely see,” Jil said as she started the engine and pulled out of the space.

  “It’s really blizzarding,” Jess remarked in surprise, watching the whirling white flakes hurl themselves kamikaze-style at the windshield. The heater still blasted freezing-cold air, and Jil blew on her hands to warm them.

  “Gloves?” Jess asked, holding up a black leather pair that were resting, as usual, on the console.