by Jenni Moen
“I think I’ll pass.” I watched the fan blades go around. I tried to pick one and follow it until I got dizzy again. “But I am going to help Father Paul with the coat drive that’s coming up,” I added, surprising myself.
She popped up on an elbow. “You are?”
“I am. And I’m going to take Aurora to the park today.” Upon hearing her name, the dog raised her head from her spot at the end of my bed and snorted in my sister’s face.
“That’s great,” she said, patting Aurora’s head to appease her. “I really like him, and he seems to really care about people.”
“He likes to help people in need, and now he thinks I’m one of them.”
“Probably. But he’s funny and pretty easy on the eyes. I certainly wouldn’t toss him out of bed for eating crackers.”
I turned to face her. “He’s a priest, Kate. A priest.”
“Well, yeah. But he’s not dead and neither am I.” Her eyes darkened as she immediately realized what she’d said. “I’m sorry, Grace. I just meant that hot. I’m not impervious to hotness – even on a priest.”
Kate legitimately tried to watch what she said around me, but walking on eggshells didn’t suit her. I didn’t want to make her or anyone else feel like that. Casual references to death were a part of life. It was something I would have to get used to.
“I kind of felt like a third wheel on a first date last night,” I said, trying to lighten the mood while playing into her joke. “Except he’s a priest, and you’re a heathen.”
“Well, that’s not fair. I haven’t had a boyfriend in years.” She poked me in the chest and grinned at me.
“Exactly.”
“Besides, it would have been a terrible first date anyway,” she said. “It’s never good when your date can’t take his eyes off the third wheel.”
“What are you talking about? I was the third wheel.”
“And he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
“He’s concerned about me. He’s figured out that I’m a lost lamb. It’s his job to help me find my way.”
“Maybe, but he was staring at you the whole night. I couldn’t get a read on him. He does seem like he’d be a good listener though. Maybe you should, you know, talk to him. Maybe he’ll throw some poignant bible verses at you to help you figure things out.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. The thought of talking to anyone tied my stomach up in knots. Plus, the garbage that she was spouting right now didn’t sound like Kate at all.
“He’s going to come here and help me work on the coat drive thing … you know, so I don’t have to go to Karen’s Kitchen.”
“Well, whatever. This is good. All good things. If you need any help with this coat thing, let me know. And, if you change your mind, I’m going to swing by the kitchen tonight and see if I can help out.”
“What’s gotten into you?” This new do-gooder attitude of Kate’s was throwing me for a loop. “Is an exorcism in order?”
“Do you think Father Poke can help with that?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“Terrible. You are terrible.”
“What?” she asked. “I really want to help. I loved Mom, too. Besides, being cold and hungry is a real bitch.” There was the Kate I knew and loved. She hadn’t gone far.
We laid there silently for a few minutes until she finally broached the subject that brought her in here into my room in the first place. “So … yeah … I said that I needed to talk to you about something.”
“I thought you wanted to talk about the office.”
“I did, but there’s also an insurance guy that’s been calling. Dad has been putting him off because he thinks you aren’t ready to talk with him, and it’s not like you need the money or anything, but he’s getting more insistent. It’s been five months. They want to pay out on the house and wrap things up, but they can’t do that until they talk to you first.”
My stomach flipped and bile burned my throat. Whoever had thought up the concept of life insurance hadn’t lost someone they loved. There was no amount of money that could compensate me for my loss, and accepting any kind of payment felt like I’d be putting a dollar figure on my husband, my kids, and our life together.
“I don’t want the money.”
“So give it away. Give it to the Fuckable Father. He’ll spread it around and change the world.” There was something in her eyes that led me to think that she believed what she was saying. I’d thought that Father Paul was enamored with her, but it was possible that it was the other way around.
Something about that bothered me. “Your mouth is disgusting.”
“You love me anyway.” She poked at me. “Come on. I know you do.”
I stared at the ceiling and tried to ignore the fact that she was watching me. Finally, I felt her push off the bed.
She turned around at the door. “Just think about it, okay? The number’s in the kitchen by the phone. I’m going to the office. Are you sure that you don’t want to come?”
I shook my head. There was no way. The look on her face told me she knew that. “Aurora. Remember? I need to take her before it gets too hot.”
“Well, you two have fun then,” Kate said, nodding at the beast of an animal laying next to me.
Aurora sat up and stretched as if she’d been listening the whole time and was ready for me to make good on my promise.
“Oh, all right,” I said, pulling myself off the bed. “Let’s go.”
Aurora jumped down in a move that I was sure going to break her short legs. While she shook off her rough landing, I crossed to the dresser and carefully replaced the picture frame back on top. Then I opened a drawer and placed Jonathan’s phone inside.
_________________________
“We came all this way. You better do something to make it worth our while. There’s a good looking border collie over there,” I said, nodding toward the water station. “Go make a friend.”
Aurora looked up at me and blinked and then plopped down on her round fat backside.
“Well, aren’t we two of the most unsocial beings around?” I asked. I looked around for a park bench and found one near the gate. I backtracked across the mostly vacant dog park.
This had been a monumental waste of time. Apparently, Tuesday mornings weren’t peak dog socialization hours. Aurora’s only hopes of companionship this morning was the border collie and a little white puffball that looked like she’d make a better lunch than friend.
I sat down on the bench and found Aurora already sitting at my feet. Apparently, there was a hidden turbo booster in her somewhere. I rummaged through the plastic sack I’d brought and tossed a treat into the air above her head. She opened her wide jaws and snagged out of the air perfectly.
“That’s quite a trick.”
I recognized the voice and scanned past jean clad legs and a Boston Red Sox t-shirt to find myself looking into the eyes of Father Paul.
He looked abnormally normal again. His t-shirt was faded and untucked, his jeans worn and loose. A ball cap pulled low over his emerald eyes hid his hair and topped off his average Joe look. I might not have even recognized him had it not been for the thick accent.
“She’s a real beast,” I said.
“She’s awesome,” he said, bending to scratch Aurora’s head. After only a second, she flopped onto her back, exposing her belly for him. “What’s her name?”
“Aurora.”
“Like the Greek Goddess or the lights?” he asked.
“Neither. Her full name is Princess Aurora,” I mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t ask how she’d gotten such an ill-fitting name.
He nodded and continued to scratch her stomach, and she snorted in appreciation. “She sleeps a lot, huh?”
I almost laughed at his joke. Aurora did sleep a lot. She was my napping buddy.
An equally out of shape basset hound wandered over, and Father Paul smacked him roughly on the back. “Chubs, meet Princess Aurora. Aurora, Chubs.” Without a shred of decency, Aur
ora remained on her back happy to let Chubs sniff her girly bits. “Sorry. Obviously, she hasn’t been raised properly. Though, I’m going to blame my dad for that.”
He laughed and nudged Chubs with his foot. “Chubs, cool it.” He gestured to Aurora. “She’s an English bulldog, right?”
“Yes,” I answered. “So I guess you two probably have a lot to talk about.” He looked at me curiously and sat down on the bench beside me, leaving space between us. “You with your Irish roots and her with her English lineage.”
He chuckled and the lines at the corner of his eyes became more defined.
I gestured to the two dogs at our feet. Chubs was laying down and already snoring. Aurora was still lying on her back, hoping someone would give her belly some more attention. “Aurora and I were just trying to figure out why we are here.”
“Interaction with our peers is vital to survival.” He smiled and then added, “Isn’t that right, Aurora?”
In total disagreement, Aurora grunted, and Chubs let out a long drawn out snore that was so loud his own eyes opened in response. I couldn’t help but laugh. I looked at Father Paul and felt a lightness that I hadn’t felt in months. Maybe Kate was right. Maybe I could talk to him.
This revelation was immediately followed by a crippling sense of guilt. I shouldn’t be feeling light. I didn’t need to talk my way through this. I brought my attention back to the dogs. “She’s my dad’s dog. I bought her for him after my mom died. He rarely got out of the house, and I didn’t know how to help him. I spent hours trolling grief websites and message boards, looking for answers. Several sites suggested that a pet would help him.”
He nodded. “Pets are good for the soul.”
“One day I was leaving the mall, and passed an SUV with the back door up,” I continued. “A lady was sitting on the tailgate with a puppy in her lap. I knew she was perfect so I bought her on the spot.” What I didn’t tell him was that I wouldn’t have even noticed the lady if Isabelle hadn’t squealed drove past and begged me to stop.
“Did it work?”
“I always had a hard time telling her no.” Father Paul looked confused, and I realized he was asking about my dad while I was still thinking about Isabelle. “Yeah, I think it worked. When she was a puppy, she was pretty demanding. He took her for walks. It got him out of the house when he probably wouldn’t have otherwise. And kept her from destroying everything.”
“And now?”
“My dad’s definitely doing better now. He gets out a lot more than she does.”
“I was talking about you. Is Aurora helping you in the same way?”
I looked away and focused my attention on the older gentleman throwing a Frisbee to the Collie. “I’m here,” I said quietly. He didn’t need to know that this was the first time I’d actually taken Aurora further than the backyard.
“She’s earning her keep then.”
“Chubs is huge,” I said, moving the conversation away from me.
“He’s eighty pounds of pure muscle. Engineered for speed and agility.”
I laughed. “I can see that.”
“Maybe we should take them for a walk,” he said. “I’m afraid if we sit here, they may atrophy.”
Laughing, I stood. I took the leash in my hand and clipped it onto Aurora’s collar. She slowly pulled up onto all fours. Chubs, who stretched out his back legs, also seemed game for the new plan.
As we let ourselves out of the gate, I glanced around to see if anyone was watching, cognizant of the fact that we lived in a very small town. Tongues would wag if anyone saw us walking together. Bored people love to stir controversy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said, shrugging it off.
As if he’d read my mind, he pointed in the direction that led away from downtown. “Let’s go this way.” We walked along the sidewalk with the dogs leading the way. “I don’t know how far we can go,” I said, looking up toward the sky. “It’s pretty hot already. Aurora’s stamina is limited. I mean, look at her.” The dog wheezed and panted as if to prove my point.
“We’ll stick to the shady side. They’ll be all right.” We crossed to the other side of the street where a canopy of trees hung overhead, creating Pollock-like shadows on the sidewalk in front of us.
We walked in amiable silence. The dogs pulled us along, sniffing at things along the way. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t feel the need to fill every second with conversation. I was glad to have Kate around, but she talked constantly. About everything and nothing. Trying to keep up with her was exhausting. Being with Father Paul, however, was easy.
Birds and cicadas chattered in the trees overhead. In a few hours, the west Texas sun would create a sweltering heat that would silence all of them. Every so often one of the dogs would stop to check something out, and the other would come over as if called. They would put their heads together and sniff and snort until they decided it was time to move on. Then they would resume their walk side-by-side at the same slow, meandering gait.
It occurred to me that the dog park wasn’t Aurora’s scene. It was kind of the doggy equivalent of a speed-dating mixer, with dogs running around, sniffing each other’s butts until they made a connection. Like me, Aurora didn’t care for forced interaction.
After a couple of blocks, we turned around and headed back to the dog park at the same lazy pace. When we reached the parking lot, Father Paul turned to me. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked. “I can bring the coat drive stuff with me, and you can take it home with you.” He looked so hopeful. I didn’t want to make any promises. I might not feel up to an outing tomorrow.
I looked down at the dogs. They were sitting next to each other both peering up at me with the same watchful and hopeful gaze as Father Paul. I was tired of being the Debbie Downer in every group. “Yeah, okay,” I said. “It looks like Princess Aurora found her soul mate. Who am I to stand in between them?”
“Do you believe that?” he asked, his voice solemn.
“What?”
“In soul mates.” He cocked his head to the side and looked genuinely interested in my answer.
Of course, I believed in ‘the one.’ I also believed that I’d already lost him. “I believe that there’s one special person who is the perfect fit and that it’s no coincidence when we find them. You?”
“Certainly, some are better suited for each other than others,” he said, nodding to the dogs sitting side-by-side at our feet. “But I don’t believe in ‘the one.’” He leaned against the trunk of my car and eyed me as if he thought I was made of glass, and his words would shatter me. He was right to wonder.
Jonathan had been my soul mate. We’d been very young when we’d met – just nineteen. Yet, I’d known immediately that he was it for me, that he was the one. In fact, I’d called my mother the next day and told her that I’d met the guy I was going to marry. There had never been anyone else, and he’d felt the same way. If that wasn’t the definition of soul mates, I didn’t know what was.
Father Paul seemed to sense my feelings on the subject but barged ahead anyway. “Have you ever wondered where it comes from … the idea of there being just ‘one’ perfect counterpart for every person?”
“Walt Disney?” I asked, pointing at Princess Aurora.
He shook his head. “Actually, it originated from the Greek philosophy of Plato who believed that man and woman are made of one body and separated by the gods, forced to spend their lives searching for each other so that they can be complete.” He was silent for a moment before continuing, “Obviously that goes against what I believe.”
“Each of us is a complete person all on our own. You are complete person on your own, Grace. That was true five months ago, and it’s still true today. You may not feel like it, but even without him, you are complete.”
I scuffed the toe of my shoe in the dirt while I considered his words, noticing that he’d purposefully framed his argument without mentioning God.
Father Paul
was walking a fine line with me, and he knew it. He was being very careful not to say something that he knew would push me away; yet, he’d still managed to get his message across.
He flipped his ball cap around so that it sat backwards on his head. The act had the dual effect of revealing his face – and the utter sincerity etched across it – and returning the Greek mythology-spewing priest beside me to a mere mortal man again.
I crumbled just a bit.
His mouth turned down as he squinted into the sun. “Of course, I’ve never been in love like you have.” He yanked on Chubs’ leash. “Let’s go, Chubs, we’ve got lots to do today. We’ll see you ladies again tomorrow.”
The dog resisted momentarily and pulled against the leash. Chubs turned to Aurora and slapped his wide tongue across the side of her face. She snorted in response and then sat on her haunches and watched her new suitor follow after Father Paul.
Maybe they weren’t soul mates, but there was something special there.
INDISCRETION
Kate
I sat at Jonathan’s desk and considered the stacks of papers in front of me. I’d spent the past few days, organizing it into something manageable and come to one conclusion: Jonathan’s organizational skills had been severely lacking.
When I’d taken on the job, there’d been documents scattered across the desk. I’d found more thrown haphazardly on the top of the horizontal filing cabinet behind the desk. There’d been even more stuffed inside it. Jonathan had probably known where everything was. However, to an outsider, it looked like a natural disaster recovery sight.
After scratching my head for a bit, I had decided to pull everything out and try to put like things with like things. For a while, it looked like I was only making things worse, but I was finally starting to see some improvement. I had piles for personal finances, personal correspondence, and business correspondence.
Of course, the business pile was the largest and the one that I had no immediate interest in. But the papers that I’d earmarked personal stood tall, too. It was apparent to me that his beautiful home office had been just for show. I doubted now whether he’d kept anything there at all.
