Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (17 page)

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 promise 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...”

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.

“Let me help you.” Dane stood, removing the dishes from her unstable grip, set them back on the table and helped her back into her seat. Then, he took the cu
ps in the kitchen and returned, sitting close to her. He placed his hand over hers.

“When you told me there were some things Josh had for me here, I hesitated, I’ll be honest about that, Margie. I have had a hard time with his death, but I’m making it through. I’m getting better and I want the same for you, though I know it will take time. More importantly, I am glad that you and the children are taking it day by day. That is the most that can be expected.”

She nodded, lowering her pale face toward the mahogany table, the ivory, lace liner bunching under her small, grasping palm.

“He said you were the strong one.” She looked up at Dane and smiled—a sad smile, one that more than likely took all the strength she had in her to muster. “And he said you were an inspiration to him, and so many other people.”

Dane swallowed, grappling with his emotions. He wished he could have said so much more to Josh.

“He really saw you like a brother, Dane. That is why he waited so long to tell you. He was...he was afraid you wouldn’t treat him the same. He knew you’d dote on him; he wanted to enjoy what you two were, you know? Have a little more fun with you.”

Dane nodded and looked away.

“So,” she sat up a little straighter and pointed to the cardboard box at the end of the table, “those are the items he wanted you to have. I have no idea what’s in there. I could’ve just mailed them but...”

“It’s fine,” he offered, patting her hand. “I’m glad to be here. And, thank you for cooking dinner. That was very sweet of you.”

“I am surprised you came all this way, but I understand it. Sometimes a trip like this can help with closure.”

Dane nodded. That in fact was part of the plan. He’d opened himself further up to healing and moving forward with his life. He needed to allow the emotions to come, as well as to seek an exit during his grieving process, but one filled with peace. When Margie called him and said Josh had some things for him, he immediately booked a flight. He wanted to be inside the man’s home, go where he’d gone during happier times. He was ready to forgive. Rhapsody was right. He couldn’t have gotten to this point without allowing himself permission to feel the pain. He did just that, and though it was debilitating at times, it sped up the process, and now, he could finally move about without the heaviness on his shoulders from heartache.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here in the guest room.” She pointed up the stairway. He looked toward it, remembering all too well that, just ten months ago, they were having renovations done to their home. Josh had told him all about it. His promotion afforded them the ability and he’d re-painted the stairwell himself. Dane gulped as he looked at the nearly-fresh paint on the wall.

Josh did that...ran around to three hardware stores, trying to find light mustard with a touch of cream.
He smiled as he recalled the conversation.

Margie slowly slid her hand away from his and stood. She ran her fingers over her burnt orange dress and tilted her head, smiling faintly at first, then more with heart.

“You know, Josh was supportive of you when you became a priest, but...”

She hesitated.

“But what?”

“No.” She laughed nervously and turned away. “I probably shouldn’t say it. It’s not like he is here to defend himself.” She began to walk toward the kitchen.

Dane called out to her, needing to hear the words. Anything that Josh had said, he was hanging onto by a thread. Somehow, the thought gave him another free second with his best friend. “No, Margie...what? It will be okay. What did he say?”

She stopped and turned around, looking uncertainly. Her dark brown eyes glowed as she stood directly by a corner lamp.

“He said...Dane, please just forget I even said anything. I don’t feel comfortable about it. It was no big deal, but I don’t feel I have the right.” She twisted in discomfort.

“Margie, okay,” Dane conceded. “I suppose that it can just stay with him. Don’t worry about it.” He let it go, seeing how terribly uncomfortable she’d become with whatever it was she was now hiding on her deceased husband’s behalf.

“Thank you, I’m sorry. Uh, is there anything else I can get you?” She smiled nervously. “There’s plenty of food left...I’m sorry, Dane. I started speaking and... I should have just kept my mouth shut. I’m not thinking clearly.”

“No, no it’s fine, Margie. Everything is okay, really,” Dane offered sincerely. His gut churned, although a part of him desperately wanted to beg her to reveal the revelation. He’d had no idea that Josh was keeping a secret from him and he was now curious as to why. It didn’t make sense. What could it be? This made no sense, and he felt unnerved by the mystery but was determined to not show it. They shared everything, why would he not tell him such a thing? He’d kept his true feelings under lock and key.
More secrets...

After a while, he prepared to leave and gave Margie a big hug. In the living room, he kissed the twin girls and his new godson goodbye, then he left with the sealed cardboard box, back to his hotel room to sleep off the strange conversation that only gave birth to discomfort and questions left unanswered. In the morning, he packed and made his way to the airport, in anticipation of seeing his new muse, once again...

~***~

Rhapsody’s brown hands were covered in warm, frothy white suds. She sung high up into the heavens as she washed up her mother’s piled up dishes from the evening before.

“Birds, flying hiiiiigh! You know, how I feel! Sun, in the skkkkky! You know, how I feel!” she sang.

“Breeze drifting on byyyy! You know how I feel!” her mother crooned,  joining her daughter in the tune as she entered the kitchen with a taupe jogging suit on and her short, salt and pepper wavy hair combed to perfection.

Rhapsody spun around toward her mother, her smile wide as they continued to duet together.

“It’s a neeew dawn! It’s a new daaay! It’s a new life, for meee! And I’m feel-liiing, good!”

“Whew!” Her mother clasped her hands together and sat down at the small table. “Nina Simone, honey! No one can do a Nina Simone song like you, Rhapsody.” She nodded approvingly as she crossed her small ankles.

Rhapsody tilted her head and smiled at her mother, a woman she revered and owed her natural born gift to.

“Come here and sit down, talk to me.” Her mother patted the table, her dark eyes smiling right along with her plush lips, covered in neutral matte lipstick.

“Let me just finish these dishes and then...”

“No, no, now.” The older woman shook her head and looked down at the table, “You come on over here right this instant. I don’t need maid service, honey. I’ll get to ’em, but thank you, just the same.”

Rhapsody quickly dried off her hands and made her way to the table, sitting directly across from the woman she adored.

“Rhapsody, I want to tell you how proud I am of you,” she said, crossing her hands.

“You tell me that all the time, Mama.” Rhapsody blushed. “But thank you.”

“But,” her mother shook her finger at her, “it is never too much. A mother can never compliment her children enough. I know it has not always been easy for you and Melody...with your father dying while you two were so young.” She paused and looked down, as if filled with deep regret. “Many times, I wasn’t home and you were left with my mother. I was...”