Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved
Page 12
“I’ve just accepted that I needed a new friend, and maybe you’re her. Who am I to question that?” He smiled widely. “And for the record, priests can be friends with anyone they like. Am I supposed to only be around Catholics? How does that help anyone? Isn’t that, as they say, ‘preaching to the choir’?” The wind carried the scent of her perfume past him, causing him a mixture of sensual excitement and worry.
“Oh.” Her eyebrow shot up and she put her hand on her hip, a slight smirk across her face, “So, you’re trying to save me, hmmm?”
“You know better than that.” He grinned. “But if you grow from our conversations, then that is fine with me.”
Truth of the matter, he wasn’t concerned about saving Rhapsody from anything. She seemed to be doing just fine on her own and he was extremely intrigued with her spiritual beliefs, at least the ones she’d communicated. She had been baptized. She appeared to have a general understanding of the bible that aided in their small discussions concerning it as of late and she was able to present her own ideas in a clear manner. He couldn’t argue with that. The woman, though different than he in this regard, could hold her own.
They shared another brief silence.
“And just so you know.” She slicked her tongue slowly across her bottom lip, “I like your personality. I find you intriguing. That is why I talk to you. I have questions.”
“And I have answers...and questions, too.”
“Well then, the communication will never stop.” She looked him up and down, her eyes hooding, her hips swaying ever so slightly.
“I pray not.”
Don’t ever stop...
“Can I call you?” he added after she gave a light chuckle and got into her car. He leaned in the window after she rolled it down. She moved back a bit, looking surprised at his question.
“Yeah, I suppose. I think conversations on the phone and in person would be great.”
She stared straight ahead, running her fingers along the steering wheel. Then, as if she came to a decision, she took out a pen and notepad from her bag.
They exchanged numbers, and soon, she drove away. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of her car until he could no longer see her, and she was but a distant visual memory...
~***~
“Is this a problem? I was just in the area...” Her voice trailed as she pointed to the open church door. All around, parishioners spoke quietly amongst themselves and spilled out onto the street. She crossed her ankles as she stood before him, a sight to behold.
“No, of course not.” Dane tried to hide his surprise, his shock...his exuberance.
She looks beautiful.
There she stood in a long, flowing floral print skirt and black fitted top. Her hair was wrapped differently; he paid close attention to the black loose strands cascading down the sides of her elegant neck. Her large, silver hoop earrings sparkled under the high ceiling lights. People moved around, some making their way to the altar, while some walked to the exit. Mass had just ended and during service, Rhapsody had admitted to sitting in the back and listening. He swallowed and looked around, seeing Fr. Kirkpatrick nod in his direction before turning away.
“I don’t work too far from here actually.” She looked around in awe at the high pillars, frescoed ceilings, grandiose stain glass windows, large organs and intricately laid out alter table. “I had no idea St. Michael was less than twenty minutes away. I had to um, go to the post office, and I got a bite to eat out this way. Sunday is my one day to relax, do whatever I want to do. I remembered you were over here so…I...”
He held up his hand. “You don’t need to keep explaining. It’s great to see you, I’m so glad you came. Hey, would you like a tour? Let me get changed, and then I can take you around. Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”
Before she could respond, the man was gone and back in a flash. He gently took her by the wrist and led her to the new daycare center area that was being built per his generous donation.
“Oh my goodness, this is so nice! It’s so modern and big.” He watched her eyes widen as she looked around the bright, cheery room and noticed the silver tool boxes lying about, blueprints and construction debris.
“Yes, it should be ready in about a month. We’ve already hired two teachers and four teacher aids. It’s a very exciting project. This church is over two hundred years old, and though some renovations over the years have been done, not nearly as many as needed. Due to a financial blessing, that has all changed. The modifications and updates were definitely needed.”
He led her to two side by side kitchens with double ovens—the area was spotless. Many of the parishioners had volunteered to clean it in months past, but now, they had enough revenue to splurge and have a cleaning crew come in twice a week. Dane made sure they were people who needed a second chance, a company started by an ex-con that offered janitorial services. They’d done the best job he’d ever seen. The entire place sparkled.
“And... where do you and the other priests stay?” She clasped her hands together, her purse swinging over her shoulder as she looked to and fro, as if expecting to see a few cots laid out nearby.
“Right, through there, down that hall.” He pointed down a long hallway with brick walls and dull, recessed ceiling lights. There were large wooden doors on either side. “This entire area is being renovated as well. Our apartments look really nice now. We all have our own space, equipped with small kitchenettes, full private bathrooms and the like, and we furnish and decorate them as we see fit. They aren’t anything to brag about probably by most standards, but they are comfortable and I like my studio.”
“Can I see it?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, Rhapsody,” he grimaced and shook his head. “We really aren’t supposed to take anyone back to our private quarters.”
Disappointment etched her face. He sighed and looked around, taking note that no one was close by.
“I tell you what; lucky for you, my door is the second one on the right, so we don’t have to go too far down the hallway and possibly disturb anyone. I will let you peak inside, but you can’t go in, do you understand?” he smiled, one tinted with a bit of a warning. “I understand that you’re curious what it looks like. I get that.”
“Oh, thank you and yes, I totally understand and won’t step foot inside.” She laughed giddily. “This is all new to me, so you’ll have to excuse my ignorance. I wasn’t raised in the church but when I did attend, it definitely wasn’t a cathedral.”
He nodded in understanding. “Well, Rhapsody, come along, let’s make this quick though.”
Dane knew this was against the rules. Regardless, her childlike curiosity was innocent, and it propelled him forward. Inside of him he believed it was an opportunity to teach, to expand her horizons. For reasons still unknown, he wanted her to know everything about his beliefs, his life, his world. It would draw her closer to him, of this, he was sure.
“I will open the door and remember, stay right where you are at.” He removed his key from his pocket, and got a whiff of her sweet perfume as she leaned in closer. The honeyed scent reminded him of a mixture of cherries and sage, and he found it delightful. He opened the door slowly, allowing her to take in an eyeful, but not without checking over his shoulder a time or two.
Music sounded from somewhere beyond, while she studied the hand-woven floor rug, neatly hung photos and elaborate painting of the Virgin Mother. Rhapsody appeared to be taking it all in, stretching as far as her neck would allow. She glanced past neatly stacked periodicals and books on the coffee table, then tried to see better inside the half opened door of his bedroom. He grinned as he briefly looked down at his shoes.
She thinks she is really smooth about it. You won’t be able to see anything, Rhapsody.
The music continued, and she turned away from her view of his digs, back up the hall, her eyes searching for the source of the exquisite sound.
“They sound...surreal.” She cupped her ear and smiled, swaying a bit, as if mesmerized by
the compellingly beautiful voices. “That’s a real choir, isn’t it? Those are actual men, not a CD or recording?”
Dane crossed his arms. “Yes, it’s the Men’s Choir. They are singing ‘Dies Irae’, which means, ‘Day of Wrath.’ What you’re hearing is their rendition of the 13th century Latin Catholic hymn.”
“What are they saying, what’s it about?”
“The second coming of Christ...judgment day, Rhapsody.”
They shared a moment of silence and just listened. He’d heard it so many times, it no longer had the effect on him that it apparently had on her, but he was glad to see it—a mystical change right before his very eyes. He loved seeing the light in her shine, her spirit moved. Regardless of her not understanding the words or the feelings behind the hymn, she clearly burned with spiritual passion with the intensity imprinted on her face, as if she were being led astray by an invisible entity that had completely brainwashed her, stolen her heart away and made her soul dance. Seeing how mesmerized she was, he led her back to the front of the church, and they sat side by side, listening as the choir continued to practice. He watched her out the corner of his eye. She was in a trance, completely captivated.
I will make her a tape, a copy of this...
He resisted the urge to speak to her, to engage her further, to give her additional information. He probably couldn’t distract her, even he’d wanted to. She had no idea how she was making him feel, simply by sitting there, with him, feeling what he felt as a child. He now took the music for granted, but she was a newborn to the life the song gave, and he delighted in her response. There he sat, next to her, feeling all sorts of things. As she continued to listen, his thoughts drifted. When she’d first walked up to him after service, making her way through the thick crowd of parishioners, she’d scanned him from head to toe in his vestments. He stood there in his purple and gold chasuble that covered his alb and stole. This was who he was, and it pleased him that, notwithstanding, she could still relate to him...she still wanted to be there.
After the choir had finished the song, Rhapsody sighed and stood. She hooked her purse back over her shoulder.
“I had to resist the urge to clap,” she said. “That was amazing, Dane. Thanks for letting me sit here and listen, and thank you for showing me where you live. I know it was asking a lot, and I appreciate it. Well, I better let you get back to...”
“No.” He stood, gently touching her hand. “Won’t you stay and have lunch with me out back, in our courtyard? I know you said you already ate but we have lots of refreshments and we can just talk...”
She seemed taken aback, but nodded.
He lightly ran his fingers over his shirt sleeve, his footsteps echoed loudly as they trekked toward the garden. Occasionally, he glanced over his shoulder to ensure she was still close behind. He could feel her burning gaze on the back of his head, and wished he could have just sixty seconds inside her brain, to see what she really thought, what she really felt that she may not have shared.
They sat, just the two of them, amongst tall, pious stone statues, cobblestoned enclosures, a white water fountain of two birds with their mouths open and new landscaping that made the area pop with bursts of color. Beautiful, lush greenery surrounded the enclosed area and the rock picnic table felt cool under his fingertips as he took his seat, and ran his hand leisurely along it.
He cleared his throat as he looked across at her, locking his fingers together.
“It’s pretty out here...you said this church is two hundred years old, right?”
“Actually, I cheated you out of the complete history,” he offered as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “The land had service, a very small chapel, almost three hundred years ago. This building, however, that you see behind you,” he pointed over her shoulder, “has been here for a little over two hundred years. It is one of the oldest Catholic churches in the entire area.”
Just then, they heard faint singing once again.
She turned back to him, smiling. “That’s another Gregorian Chant,” he offered. “It was originally sung by monks.” He stopped, not wanting to go too far or overwhelm her, but his desire to teach her, to feed her curious mind, was almost irresistible. It fed his daydreams, the ridiculous ones that he knew he shouldn’t be giving any sort of ‘bread and water’ to. The ones he drifted in and out of while he studied in his bed. The ones that said:
What if she were Catholic, too? Would it then be easier for me somehow? What if she loved God as much as I do? Maybe she does, we are just different faiths. I have no way of knowing that as of yet. I want to know, it’s important to me. What if one day I...
...and before he ever let the thoughts mature, the ones that involved more than he was willing to contemplate, he’d turn away from them, feeling guilty for even delving there.
Dane, you’re just hurting...clinging onto someone. That’s all this is.
And just like that, he’d push the feelings aside.
Leaving her alone for some moments, he returned with two large glasses of water, chopped salads with sliced strawberries and mandarin oranges and a small loaf of warm, fresh baked wheat bread. He set a plate down in front of her, placing her fork and knife alongside it. He felt her slightly tremble as his arm brushed against her’s. He assumed it was due to the occasional breeze. The knife was slightly crooked, so he reached over her shoulder and corrected its placement. Her scent entered his nostrils, intoxicating him with her femininity. He swallowed and rushed back to his seat.
As time passed, they spoke, laughed and ate, and the mood felt relaxed. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed a white curtain being pulled back from a window. Only one office was located in that wing. He looked upward and saw Father Kirkpatrick staring down at him.
Dane would normally have not been concerned; however, the look on Father Kirkpatrick’s face made him pause; even from the distance he could make out the downturned lips and sour expression. He’d never seen the old man like that before—not toward him, at least. It seemed to be some sort of warning, as if the revered priest was well aware of what was going on in Dane’s hidden thoughts and cloaked heart. This wasn’t his first time having lunch with a woman; typically, it was done during or immediately following a counseling session. He’d prayed with women, heard their confessions, and they even told him their issues regarding their married lives, to which he gave prayer and advice. He didn’t shy away from it, and it was not forbidden and that wasn’t how he was raised or led to believe. He’d never acted inappropriately toward any of the female parishioners or nuns. It was rumored that several women had crushes on him, but that was never discussed in depth and he never paid the gossip any attention. He made sure his conduct was acceptable, regardless.
No one seemed to bat an eye about this sort of recreation, and he had an exemplary record for his years of service with the church. Thus, it unnerved him how Fr. Kirkpatrick continued to stare down at him. A part of him, his flesh, wanted to react, to take Rhapsody by the arm and lead her somewhere out of his view, but the other part of him understood he must stay. He was innocent, so there was no need to run away as if this were the scene of a crime.
Still, Dane had high regard for Fr. Kirkpatrick and he feared a conversation would take place, one in which he may have to say things to prove his innocence or explain himself. Finally, the old man turned away from the window. The curtain fell back down. Dane sighed, and picked up the woven bread basket.
“Would you like some?” he offered.
“Yes, I would like a slice. It smells really good.”
He handed her the basket, along with a small plate with pats of warm butter. “Hey, I gotta joke for ya.”
“I hope this is better than the one you told me the other day about the rhino!” She laughed heartily. “So silly!”
“You laughed, you know it was funny.” He loved her smile.
“I was slightly amused.” She winked.
He shrugged and grinned guiltily. “Yeah, well, here is one, and I prom
ise you won’t be shocked that a priest said it. I’ve told it to little kids, so it’s rated G. Us sitting here eating reminded me about it.”
“Okay, shoot.” She took a bite of her bread.
“There was a Catholic school. The children were lined up in the cafeteria for lunch. At the head of the lunch counter was a huge tray of slices of bread, like wheat, rye, and the whole nine. Because of people taking more than they needed, the head nun put up a sign that said, “Take only one slice. God is watching you.”
He watched her chew, her mouth full of fruit.
“So, in the end of the line …”
“The other end of the counter.” She laughed, her mouth partially full as she interjected.
“Yes, thank you.” He smiled back, ignoring the warmth growing in his stomach as he stared into her eyes. “There was this big plate of Oreo cookies.”
“Mmmm, Oreos!” Rhapsody encouraged, still grinning as she took a swallow of her water.
“Yes, they are good, aren’t they? Well, one of the children whispered in the ear of the kid beside him, and said, ‘Take all the cookies you want, you’re safe. God is watching the bread.’”
Rhapsody looked at him quietly, then burst out laughing.
“That was cute! Yeah...now that joke is one I’d expect you to say, but I liked them both.”
He grinned and nodded, taking a swallow of his water before playing with his salad.
“Got anymore?” she asked, sucking her bottom lip.
“Jokes? Oh man, we’d be here all day!”
“Well entertain me, I’m ready for it.”
He laughed, and rested his hands on the bench. On one side of him in the garden was the statue of Saint Patrick, and on the other, Saint Valentine. He felt their stony regard, and was filled with encouragement.
“A rabbi, a priest and a minister walk into a bar...”
CHAPTER FOUR
Several days later...
“I’m so glad you came,” Margie said as her shaky hands gripped two antique white tea cups with blue swirls from the dining room table.