“Good morning, Sister Laverne.”
She acknowledged me with a nod. “Mary Elizabeth.”
As she made her way to me, I was struck by the oddity. Usually it was Sister Christine who met me Sunday morning to give me my orders for the day.
“Sister, is Mother Superior all right?” I asked, concerned. I feared that in her ailing state, maybe she had taken a turn for the worse. While I had never been fond of Sister Christine, I didn’t wish her harm, either.
“Mother had to go up north for some official diocese business. Don’t worry your mind about her. There are children to watch over right here,” Sister Laverne scolded.
“Yes, Sister. I understand, Sister.” I bowed my head apologetically.
As the hours passed I watched the parishioners come and go between the Masses. By the time the final Mass let out at noon, I was expecting to see Caleb exit the church with his family. But they were nowhere to be found. My mind started to race. I hoped the Prices were all right, especially Caleb. Then there was Sister Christine. In all my thirteen years at the orphanage, never had Sister Christine missed a Sunday Mass. What business could have been so important for her to leave the grounds on a Sunday? I didn’t even think the diocesan offices were open on Sunday. My mind continued its demented ride. Could Sister Christine be with the Prices? That was a ridiculous thought.
I waited for the sisters to return to relieve me from my duties. When they did, I said my goodbyes and started down Enoch Street. Before I had even walked a mile, I heard the roar of the familiar engine. I turned to look and there was Caleb. It wasn’t some elaborate elimination plot. He was just running late, which made total sense given that he was just getting back from New Hampshire. I felt silly and ashamed for letting my mind jump to conclusions, just as Zack always accused.
“Liz, get in,” Caleb called, pulling over to the side of the road. “Sorry I’m late. I overslept.” I opened the door and slid comfortably into the Judge’s black leather seat.
Predicament
I stood with my heart racing, my palms sweaty, and my mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. Anticipation and anxiety had hijacked my body and mind. The dizziness was powerful, overtaking my senses and blurring my vision. As both my blood sugar and pressure plummeted, I became woozy, my footing unstable. Then I heard it.
“Flight 459 now arriving at Gate 8,” the lady’s voice from the overhead speakers called.
“Quick, Caleb, we’re at the wrong gate. Zack’s flight in coming in at the next one!” I exclaimed, pulling Caleb’s arm and trying to hurry him.
“Liz, relax. We are at the right gate. He’s going to be coming through that door in just a couple of minutes.” Caleb pried me off his arm. Then he patted my hand gently as if to say, “It’s okay.”
I couldn’t believe I was standing here, knowing that in mere moments I’d be back in Zack’s arms. The last six days had flown by. Caleb checked on me every day, and we went out to the Tripping Donkey nearly every night. I spent the rest of my mealtimes with Mildred at the cafeteria. In the little time I had left, I read more books than I had in the last two years of school. I had traded in my sappy Victorian romances for Tolkien’s fanciful world of elves, hobbits, and humans. I couldn’t bear to read of love and longing, not when I was waiting for Zack. Now my wait was over.
One of the flight attendants working the boarding desk walked over and propped open the door.
“Get ready, Liz.” Caleb stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders like I was getting ready for an Olympic qualifying sprint.
People began exiting the plane and entering the terminal, slowly at first and then in a crowd. Then there he was, towering above most of his fellow passengers, wearing my favorite pair of faded blue jeans and a purple-and-green plaid flannel shirt. He stopped for a second, scanning the crowd. I started to jump up and down, waving frantically. Then his smile shot wide across his face, showing off his pearly whites. His eyes twinkled with happiness. In fact, his whole face lit up when he saw us, from his dimpled chin to his perfectly spiked hair. He was happy to see us.
I ran toward him, attempting to avoid a head-on collision with an elderly man using a walker, the kind with the tennis balls on the feet so that he could just slide it across the floor as he shuffled his feet. An image of me tackling the feeble geriatric to the ground in my pursuit to get past him to my lover’s arms overtook my mind. I let out a small laugh at the absurdity and then shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind like an Etch A Sketch. When I looked up again, Zack was standing in front of me. He dropped his duffle bag, picked me up in his arms, and twirled me around. For a split second it didn’t feel like Zack at all. My mind rushed back to the orphanage and Brett twirling Kelly and me the same way. Then I felt his warm full lips firmly seeking mine. Right then, it felt like Zack. No one in my life had the passion he did. In that second, I fell in love with him all over again.
“Oh, Zack. I have missed you so much,” I gushed, kissing him fiercely several times more.
“I hope not too much. I hope you didn’t have a miserable time without me.” Zack grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me again. I felt the air leave my lungs and not return. I had forgotten the feel of his large, powerful hands on my skin. A shiver went through me, a good shiver.
“No, Caleb’s been taking really good care of me.” I turned and smiled at Caleb thankfully.
“Hey, man, thanks for doing that,” Zack said, slugging Caleb in the shoulder.
Caleb smiled. “No problem. Liz and I get along really well. It was nice to have her around.”
“So, how was your trip?” I asked, turning my attention back to Zack.
“It was good, but we have plenty of time to talk about me. What did you guys do?” Zack’s words were kind, but I sensed a hint of jealousy concealed underneath.
“We hung out at the Tripping Donkey for the most part.” Caleb shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Yeah, and Caleb took me to his house and introduced me to his family,” I added excitedly.
“He did?” The jealousy in Zack’s tone was now very apparent.
“It wasn’t like that, man,” Caleb assured.
“What? No, not at all,” I interjected, realizing what Zack thought.
“My family was throwing a luncheon for St. Matthew’s priest,” Caleb explained. “I dragged Liz along so she could talk to him. Work things out, you know?”
“Why was your family throwing a party for that jerk?” Zack’s tone was harsh.
“Zack!” I scolded, slapping him on the arm.
“Well, Liz, he hasn’t been very nice to you,” Zack reminded.
“I know, but Caleb worked it out so Father will never be able to revoke my scholarship. Caleb is very ingenious that way.” I smiled appreciatively.
“That’s great, man, thanks.” That was Zack’s way of apologizing to Caleb, all jealousy long forgotten.
“Yeah, he made sure that everyone at the party knew that Monsignor Brennigan had granted me a scholarship,” I went on. “It became the talk of the party. Now, with it out in the open, he can’t take it back. All thanks to Caleb.”
“Wait—Monsignor?” Zack questioned.
Caleb nodded. “Yeah, man, that’s why my parents threw the party. He got sort of a spiritual promotion.” He chuckled at his description.
By the time we reached Caleb’s car, we had told Zack about our whole two weeks. Zack was tightlipped about his own vacation and summed it up as fishing and guy time. Zack’s mom had died a few years back, when he was first in high school. I imagined that visits home were hard. I never pressed for details. I understood how someone might not want to share their home life or past.
Having Zack back was wonderful. I felt truly safe and secure for the first time in weeks. I never told Zack about my shadow stalkers. I hoped Caleb wouldn’t either, but having not explicitly told him not to, I didn’t know if he would or not. It didn’t matter, at least not right now. I was in Zack’s arms, and we were making up for lost time
.
Monday started the new semester. All my classes were different. I did share three with Zack this term. That was a definite plus. Caleb shared one of the classes with us, psychology. Then Caleb and I shared one more alone, Christian ideologies. I was sad that I didn’t have any classes with Lucy this term. I knew I would still see her at lunch and out with Caleb, though, so I accepted the deficiency in my schedule.
With school back in session and Zack back with me, the four of us resumed our normal routine. Zack even went back to taking me to and from St. Matthew’s and MIQ. Sometimes I caught a glimpse of Monsignor Brennigan watching us as we kissed hello or goodbye. He was still as stubborn as ever, avoiding me at all costs. Mother Superior was away from the orphanage more and more now.
One day Monsignor Brennigan came looking for her at MIQ. Finding only Sister Laverne in her place, he was not pleased. He reminded me of a child throwing a tantrum—not too dissimilar from my own outbursts growing up. Whatever he needed to speak with her about was urgent enough that it looked like he was going to have an aneurysm from the delay.
Every time he came face to face with me, he glared. I hated it so much. Sometimes I told myself that I should just leave the church and find a new parish. I could always contact Congressman Reynolds if Brennigan tried to cause a problem. But then my mind raced back to the night with Caleb at the Tripping Donkey.
“Adoption provisions, weird stuff. Loyalty clauses and stuff like that,” he’d said. Neither Caleb nor I knew for sure what these provisions were. I would have given anything to know, to be able to beat them at their own game.
This cat-and-mouse game of avoidance continued well into February. With more than three months having passed since my ill-fated confession, my judgment of Monsignor Brennigan’s unwavering ridiculousness became more harsh and jaded. I had been rejected and ostracized for months. I couldn’t believe this wasn’t penance enough. While I felt like part of my heart had been broken, the only part containing fond memories from my childhood, I felt great otherwise. Better than ever, in fact. I never felt sick anymore, nor did I pass out or have that fuzzy-headed feeling. For the most part I chalked it up to being happy. But inside I knew there was something more to it.
The last Monday in February, Monsignor Brennigan finally approached me. I was doing some filing in the front office of St. Matthew’s just down the hall from his office. He walked up to me from behind, startling me.
“Mary Elizabeth, it is time for us to talk.” He motioned for me to follow him into his office. I did.
“Yes, Monsignor. Is there something you need?” I asked hesitantly, feeling as though I had been ambushed.
“Elizabeth, this isn’t working. It must be addressed.” Brennigan’s words were cold and unfeeling.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Elizabeth, it was my hope that you would see the error of your ways and repent on your own. Had that happened, I would have welcomed you back with open arms long ago.”
“Monsignor—the error of my ways?” Surely I was not such a sinner that my whole way was errant.
“Yes, Mary Elizabeth. Your relationship with the boy, Zack, is not moral in the eyes of God. I thought you understood that, since you sought absolution in my confessional.”
The memory of the confessional and my humiliation enraged me all over again. “An absolution you refused!” I bellowed, condemning him to the same extent he condemned me. “And how do you know his name is Zack? I never told you his name.” That gnawing feeling once again took hold of my stomach.
“I did not feel that you were properly repentant. Therefore, you were not prepared for absolution,” Monsignor explained in his most pious tone, completely skipping over my question about Zack.
“Father, I love him. This time apart from you has made me certain of only one thing, and that is it,” I declared with all the force and vigor of the wrongly accused.
“I see that is the case, MaryElizabeth. However, it does not change the morality of the situation.”
“Respectfully, Monsignor, it has been months. My mind has not wavered. Apparently yours has or I would not be standing here. What is it that you want of me?” I was firm, absolute in my conviction. I was not going to be shamed again. I had paid with months of self-doubt and regret. I was not going to give him any more. This man of the cloth was equally wrong and he knew it.
“I fear, child, that what I want, what God wants, you are unable to give.” His tone was supremely righteous and it made me want to puke.
“Then I believe the situation remains unchanged. Good evening, Monsignor.” I turned to walk out, proud that I had not caved under the pressure.
“Elizabeth, come now. Let’s be reasonable.” Brennigan’s voice was suddenly sweet, sickeningly sweet. It was a tone I’d heard him use only a few times before.
“I think we are far beyond reasonable.”
“A compromise, then?”
“What is that, Monsignor?” I asked, still angry but now more curious.
“A meeting. I propose a meeting. Let me meet your beau to judge his intentions for myself. If he has a pure heart, devoted to loving you, perhaps I could offer my blessing. My blessing, mind you, not God’s.” His words were precise, calculated, completely controlled.
“I will ask him. That is all I can do. These past few months have been difficult for me. Zack has come to my defense loyally. I am not sure if he would look kindly upon an audience with you,” I told him truthfully.
“I appreciate your honesty, Elizabeth. I will await your answer. If Zack accepts, then we will meet after Mass on Sunday. You will join me for Sunday Mass, won’t you? Now go, it is late. Zack will be waiting.” Brennigan signaled for me to leave.
There it was again, Zack’s name. How did Monsignor Brennigan know his name? Caleb hadn’t mentioned it at the party, I was sure. The thought of him spying on me creeped me out. As I left his office and walked outside to the open air of the street, frightening visions flooded my head. My shadow stalkers—could they be his? But the idea was preposterous. The notion of Monsignor having minions was ludicrous, like something out of a horror movie. Yet with every attempt I made to dismiss it, the more likely it seemed.
“Liz, are you okay?” I heard Zack’s voice as I felt the weightless sensation of him picking me up. He carried me in his arms, the way he had the night of our first date at the drive-in. This time passion was replaced with concern.
“Liz, Liz.” I felt his warm hands moving my face from side to side, trying to coax me into consciousness.
“Zack?” I mumbled.
“Yes, Liz. It’s me. What did he do to you?” His voice was strong with protective fury.
“No, nothing. I just feel a little dizzy.” I knew why I felt faint. And it wasn’t because of my talk with Monsignor Brennigan, although I was sure that didn’t help matters any.
“I’m going to take you home now, okay, Liz? I just have to stop at my dorm first.”
“Okay,” I agreed as I lay back down on the bench seat. I rested my head in Zack’s lap as he drove. When we arrived at Fischer Hall, I felt more alert. I sat up.
“I’ll be right back. Just rest, Liz.” Zack opened the truck door to get out.
“I’ll come with you,” I announced weakly, fearful of being left alone.
“All right, but take it slow,” he warned. “You still don’t look good.”
“I don’t look good?” I smiled impishly as I climbed out of the truck.
“There’s my girl. You okay?” Zack hugged me, seeming relieved that my humor was returning.
“So, you gonna tell me what happened or what?” he asked as we entered the privacy of his room. It didn’t look like Caleb was home, so I thought it was as good a time as any to tell him about Brennigan’s and my conversation. I tactfully relayed the whole discussion, editing out some of the hostility to increase my odds of getting him to agree to the meeting on Sunday. It didn’t work out so well.
“One night back in Brennigan’s
good graces and there you are again, all distant and devout, Liz. Do you remember what that man did to you? How he treated you? Do you?” Zack demanded.
“Yes, I do. I haven’t forgotten. But it’s not fair to judge me, Zack. It’s Monsignor Brennigan’s job to lead me away from sin.”
“And what am I, sin?”
“No, but I do sin when I’m with you,” I admitted.
“Well, Liz, I know how to solve that!” Zack went to storm out the door but found Caleb standing there instead.
“Everything okay?” Caleb asked cautiously.
I tried to defuse the situation. “Yeah, Caleb. Zack and I are just having a disagreement.”
“Yeah, Caleb, it’s just a discussion. Maybe you two religious freaks can help straighten me out.” Zack’s voice was threatening.
“Hey, wait a minute, man. Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Why? Is it sinful?” Zack spat.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on. Let’s just sit down and talk it out, all right?” Caleb encouraged calmly.
“Why don’t you guys talk it out? You two enjoy each other’s company so much,” Zack hissed.
“Hey, now, that’s not right!” Caleb’s voice was becoming heated.
“Nope, you can have her. I’m done with this.” Zack stomped off, slamming the door.
“Zack, you’re going to regret this,” Caleb called after him. When he turned back around he found me huddled on the floor beside Zack’s bed, sobbing.
“You okay, Liz?” Caleb asked, bending down to brush the hair from my eyes.
I could barely talk. I just kept crying. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my body as it still beat in Zack’s murderous hands. This was the worst. Way worse than finding out that I wasn’t Sarah Perkins. Worse than when Kelly and Brett left. This was, by all comparisons, the worst pain and heartache of my life.
Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) Page 22
