by Nancy Glynn
The news still disturbed her that she had a different father. One she intended to find. She remembered the article and pulled it out of her pocket. She read the name of the church her mother was a member of and found the directions in her phone.
St. Mary’s Star of the Sea was about to get a new member.
Chapter Nineteen
The massive church stood out against the gray, blue sky, its Byzantine architecture brilliantly designed. Daisy envisioned her beautiful mother running up those steps through one of the three archways, and disappearing inside.
Trees adorned the sides, giving it just enough shade. A huge school was off to the left of it that would soon fill with children in a month. She had always wanted to go to a Catholic school, but her father had said no. She understood why now.
Her heart quickened as she headed up the steps, her eye catching the tall cross facing her on the gold dome. This felt right in her coming here, knowing she was conceived in such a place of holiness.
The heavy door gave way easily, and darkness enveloped her at first. She closed her eyes and smelled incense burning. It felt a little chilly with the air conditioning running, a nice escape from the August sun.
A woman stood lighting a candle near a table with the statue of Mary looking over her. She turned toward Daisy and smiled to which she returned. She walked deeper in, and sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows. The beauty of the mosaic charm on the ceilings and walls saturated with glistening gold and streaming light took her breath away. She drew comfort from the angels gazing down at her.
Mass must be at six. Silence filled the air. She walked down the aisle toward the magnificent white marble altar. A priest with kind eyes quietly walked out to her in his black flowing robe. “May I help you, Miss?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Father. I was actually here to see someone. His name is Father Mark Paul. Do you know him?”
The priest’s eyes widened and slowly nodded. “Yes, but he’s not well. Can I pass a message on to him for you?" His hands stayed neatly folded together.
Her heart dropped. “Not well?”
“No, dear. He’s in his room and doesn’t come out for anyone these days. I’ve only been here a few years and haven’t ever had a conversation with him. He just sits in his room and reads, been like that I guess for about twenty years is what I hear,” he said, shaking his head. “Yes, a very good man but keeps to himself. He used to do wonderful sermons, I hear." He smiled warmly.
She smiled back. “Could you give him a message for me then? Just tell him Rose’s daughter stopped by to say hello. He’ll know what that means,” she added. She opened her purse and wrote on some paper her name and number.
“I will do that for you...Daisy,” he said after reading her name. “I’m Father Krieger." He held his hand out.
“Thank you, Father Krieger,” she said, shaking his soft hand. Feeling disappointed, she turned to leave the church.
By the time she got to her car and started the engine, Father Krieger ran out to the steps, waving his hands frantically at her.
She jumped out and ran back to him. “Yes, Father?”
He seemed out of breath. “I felt bad for you so I hurried this message to Father Paul, and he wants to see you right now,” he said, still trying to catch his breath.
Daisy took his elbow and let him guide her inside to where she would meet her real father. Butterflies bounced around in her belly as she slid across the pew to wait. Her palms became wet, and she wiped them on her shorts.
A man with white hair appeared with a younger looking face that didn’t match. He stood near the altar, first trying to take her in but then bringing himself closer with disbelief in his eyes. “Rose?”
Daisy stood and smiled, holding her hands out to shake his. “Rose was my mother. I’m Daisy,” she felt his hand warm in hers.
Pain flashed in his eyes before realizing his error. “Yes, yes...Father Krieger told me that. Forgive me." He sat with her on the pew. “You look exactly like her, exactly,” he whispered.
“I’ve been told that,” she smiled. She wanted him to admit the truth to her.
His gaze moved down to her cross and back to hers. “You’re wearing it now. That’s good,” he nodded. “I just wished she would have had it on that night." Tears sprang to his eyes, and he dabbed his handkerchief to them.
She touched his arm. “I know this is hard for you seeing me. I always thought she died in childbirth or at least that’s what was fed to me.”
Nodding, he smiled briefly. She noticed he had the same small dimple on his left cheek that she had. “Is it true then? Are you my father?" Her eyes searched his.
He glanced at her and nodded once. “I am. It’s not something I’m exactly proud of. Only a few people know from that time. It had to be covered up as I’m sure you understand." His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes as if remembering. “God, I loved her. Just being near her was enough for me at times, but then there were other times it wasn’t." He opened his eyes and gave a heavy sigh.
“I’m not here to judge you. I’m glad my mother had a love like that. It doesn’t matter how it happened or with whom. She was happy with you. I can feel your love is still so strong, so alive for her. She’s with God now and I’m sure she’s waiting for you...you must believe that,” her voice cracked, wanting to ease his suffering.
He gave a small smile and sniffed. “I guess you really are my daughter. You want to help others have a different perspective on life. That’s always been my joy as a priest, to see a light in the eyes of the lost. But that joy left when Rose left me. I wanted to die that night with her.”
She rubbed his shoulder and gave an encouraging smile.
He continued. “I see her face everywhere. I sometimes think it’s God punishing me, but then I know that’s not the God I love. That I must be punishing myself. Are you in trouble, Daisy?”
He caught her off guard. “I’m not sure. I was but then I thought I got away, but now I’m just not sure,” she said, shaking her head.
His voice changed, turning more serious. “I know what you’re talking about. I’ve had my run-ins with Mr. Red. He’s a demon right out of hell is what he is!” he slammed his fist against the pew in front of them. “Some say the devil himself, but I believe he’s an advocate. You must always keep your cross on, Daisy! Do you hear me? It will protect you.
“I know you’re special in other ways I’m sure you’re just now understanding better. You see, my mother was a gypsy, or a witch, if you will. She could cast spells, good and bad.
“If I ever got hurt, she would run her hand over it and make it disappear. She would tell me if anyone bullied me at school, I could lift them up and drop them without ever laying a hand on them. And I did one time after being beaten for the fifth time by one boy. That was the last time he ever touched me, and I never did it again.
“I vowed I would be a good man and help people. I told my mother I was joining the priesthood. Of course she scoffed and wished me luck, but that I would always be fighting a darkness in me and I did, Daisy. After meeting your mother, lustful thoughts would build in me until one day I couldn’t keep my hands off her." His head dropped into his hands.
“But that was Jack’s doing, not your own thoughts. And it turned into love after that, right?”
He wiped his face again. “I suppose that could be true. I don’t know anymore. I’m only fifty-two, but I look seventy. I beat myself up every day for what I did.”
“She would want you to remember the good things about your love, so do that for her. Honor her memory with happy thoughts. Please forgive yourself and heal. You’re a good man, I just know it.”
He continued with his haunted mind. “I knew when I heard you got out of that car without a scratch you were mine, not that I didn’t believe her, but that solidified it for me. It’s a curse and a blessing, but you have to be very careful with its powers. I pray to ignore it, always have since that fateful day with that boy.
“Your heart is pure, Daisy, but there are forces surrounding you, wanting to tarnish it, to bring out what could ultimately destroy you. Just trust in yourself, Daisy. There’s a strength in you even more than some cross could give you." He took her hand in his and closed his eyes. “I also see you’ve been hurt by…a cousin. You do understand you’re not blood-related, right?”
Her eyes widened with the realization of his words, and she nodded. “Thank you for that. I understand.”
He cleared his throat and continued. “There are some people in your life right now you can’t fully trust. Just be careful, dear girl." He opened his blue eyes and kissed her hand.
“What do you mean? Who can’t I trust?”
“You’ll know when the time’s right. Don’t lose faith. Just be aware." He stood and embraced her. “My child. I’ve dreamed of you for so long. I feel at peace now knowing you’re well." He hooked her arm through his and walked her to the doors. “Seven o’clock mass is starting soon. I might even be a part of it this time,” he winked.
A wide grin filled her face. “I’m so happy to hear that. Can I just ask you how did you know that about not trusting someone? You touched my hand and knew?”
“Ah, another one of the curses, or, I mean gifts, we share. You have it too, just never exercised it. It’s a muscle we build. I’m sure flashes of things have come to you when touching a personal article but never understood it, as well as making things move. Stay as sweet and loving as you are. Make your father proud.”
Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away. “I will. Can I come visit again?”
“I would like that. Now go, it’s getting late.”
She kissed his cheek and stepped out into the remaining sunlight. As she got in her car, she looked up to wave again but he stared at her with apparent concern in his eyes.
She texted Eric to let him know she was on her way home and couldn’t wait to tell him about her day, but he just said great, see you then. That was it? That didn’t seem like his normal excited self. Normally he would be busting through the texts, wanting to know every detail before she could tell him.
An unease set in. Maybe his day didn’t go well. She plugged in her iPod to listen to what she liked. Ever since that day in the car and Jack fooling with her radio, she bought a charger to plug her iPod in. No more messing with her music.
The events of the day ran through her mind. So many revelations to digest. This went back farther than she ever realized. An affair that started it all. Of course Jack was always behind stuff like that, never anything good. And now to find out not only does she have a priest for a father but a gypsy witch for a grandmother.
She really just wanted to feel Eric’s protective arms around her, telling her everything is fine and always will be.
Traffic seemed better at this time of day, but not much. Still people scurrying home from work. The lights of the city entranced her. She wondered when Venetian Night was this year. The boat shows were awesome. Everyone decorated their boats with lights, and she would always pick her favorites. Her dad, well, Richard, used to take her while Gloria stayed home with a headache. Now she knew it was a drinking problem she had.
She found the hotel and parked in front, allowing them to valet park it this time. After tipping the guy, she ran in the revolving doors and up to their room. “Eric?” she called out but no answer. A note sat on the kitchen table that said he was visiting with a new friend he made in the building and would be back later. “A new friend?” she said to the note.
After taking a shower and getting into her nightgown, she ate a quick microwave meal and then slid under the covers to watch TV. Clicking through the channels, she felt jealousy bubble up inside her. New friend, yeah right. She goes to do something life-changing serious today and comes home to this?
The front door opened and closed and she heard his footsteps go to his room. She waited for him to come hear her story or at least say good-night. Now she could hear the shower running.
All remained quiet. She couldn’t believe he went to sleep without talking to her. Fuming, she jumped out of her bed and strode to his room, knocking and pushing it open.
He opened his eyes. “What the...”
“How could you? How could you not come talk to me?" She stood there with her hands on her hips, face feeling flushed.
“Daisy, I’m sorry...I just. I don’t know. Come here. No, wait...don’t,” he seemed to struggle with himself.
“I thought we were friends. And now you’re making new friends? How does this new friend look, Eric? Big boobs, blonde hair, fuck me ‘til I die look? Well?”
He sat up and put his glasses on, holding his arms out.
A sob escaped her and she let it out, all the tears she felt that day finally coming forth. She fell into his arms and cried there for what felt much longer.
“There, all better?" He pulled her damp hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “Tell me what happened today, okay? I do want to know everything.”
All the details spilled out, and he gasped at the all appropriate places. “Oh, my God, Daisy! Your father’s a priest?”
“Yes. I just wanted some normalcy when I came home, but then you’re not here. You’re my best friend, Eric. I needed you tonight." She laid her head against his moist skin still wet from the shower. “You smell so good, so clean." She trailed little kisses against his chest, making him suck in his breath.
“Daisy, no–”
She brought her lips to his, pressing his hand to her breast. “I want you, Eric. Don’t you want me?”
His breath became ragged. “God, Daisy. You don’t want to do this. You’re just lonely. I know you really love Christian,” he said hoarsely.
“No! He let me go. You’re the only one who has been there for me." She drew her nightgown up her hips and pulled his blankets down along with his pajama pants. He was ready for her.
Sweat ran down his face. “Tell me you love me then! Do you love me, Daisy?”
“What’re you talking about? I just said you’re my best friend. Of course I do,” her voice matched his, trying to pull him into her but his hand stayed her.
“No, tell me you...love...me. Now,” he demanded through gritted teeth.
She looked in his eyes and let her head fall, her jagged breathing slowing down.
“You can’t, can you? I know what lives in your heart, Daisy, and it’s not me. Oh, you may think you want me right now, but tomorrow you’ll regret it. You’ll regret it the minute it’s over,” he hissed, his eyes hooded, straining every muscle.
“So what? Love doesn’t have to be part of this, does it? That’s not how my real father met my mother. It was a sexual affair that turned into love later. What’s the difference?”
“This isn’t you, Daisy. You’re consumed with jealousy at the thought of someone else taking my attention away from you, that’s it. And she did for a while. Yeah, that’s right. God, she was hot. I think I might go see Jessica tomorrow night, too. No strings attached,” he smirked.
She sat up and stared at him. Pain flashed in his eyes. She spoke in a low tone. “You’re right. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe we are just meant to be friends and that’s it. I came home with the hope of something more building between us, something real. I don’t know if I love you that way, Eric. I wanted to. Go be with Jessica tomorrow." She wiped away a tear and kissed his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Daisy. I wanted more for us, too. I just can’t do that to you. It’s not fair. Please forgive me." His eyes were laced with love and pain at the same time.
“I need to forgive a lot of people, especially myself. Go back to sleep." She smiled and fixed herself, then left the room.
She leaned her head against the door and heard Eric sobbing quietly into his pillow.
Chapter Twenty
Christian tapped his fingers on the table, trying to absorb his father’s words in the meeting. His mind drifted to his upcoming birthday, one without his Dai
sy.
William briefly touched on the changes being made after the big day. “So, Christian will be overseeing the corn processing plant and Golden Hills Electric. Mayor Anthony Bishop said he’ll be able to be at the ball as well as the Chief of Police, Albert Cohen. They’re all so proud of you, son,” he said, directing his attention to Christian.
His eyes glanced up and forced a smile. “I’ll do my best to keep it that way,” he said convincingly.
“Good. Any questions?” William turned to the men.
One blond man spoke up. “Are we still considering changing the town name to Christian Shores? It sounds so...”
“Godly?” Christian chimed in.
The man cleared his throat. “Well, sort of. It doesn’t depict who we really are.”
Christian chuckled. “That’s for sure." He glared at the men. “I actually like the name Christian Falls, more appropriate.”
Laughter erupted at his little joke. William held up his hand to quiet the room and smirked. “Have something else to add, son?” he asked, raising his brows.
“Nope. I’m good." He sat back and swiveled in his chair, cocking an eyebrow with a half smile.
William continued. “I’m not thrilled about the name, either, gentleman. But my late wife gave him that name and this will be his town. I’ll take a look at the suggestions, but no promises." He returned to his son’s cold stare. “Charlotte have her dress yet?”
Christian stared at him. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her? You’re the one screwing her.”
Hushed undertones filled the room, waiting for William’s response.
“Aren’t you the clever one? The truth is she cries about how she disgusts you, that all you go on about is your precious Daisy. I only console her.”
Christian scoffed. “She cries like a real human?”
“Don’t be cruel. After all, she’ll be the mother of your children one day.”
