Joyfully Yours (8 page)

Her jaw dropped after the first song ended and the audience broke into applause. When she looked over, Michael was grinning at her. She'd expected the service to be far more somber. She got chills as she looked out from her spot on the altar to the sea of people so excited about her music. It had been a long time since she'd felt this spark while performing.
 

Her most recent gigs had been in some real dive bars around Brooklyn and a couple out on Long Island. The patrons seemed more interested in seeing the bottoms of their beer glasses than hearing her play. Over time, the lack of passion in her audience seemed to be reflected in her playing.
 

She beamed a smile over at Michael as he gave his homily. She didn't know if he felt the same pull between them as she did. She didn't know if someone like him could ever be interested in someone as unconventional as her. What she did know was he had given her a gift beyond measure in pushing her to fill in tonight. He'd reminded her about her love for music and made her realize it was time to make some changes in her life to get that feeling back.
 

After mass, parishioners mingled and munched on the goodies everyone brought in the gathering room behind the church. Faith piled a plate high with cookies, a brownie, and a small hunk of decadent dark chocolate cake.
 

A number of the churchgoers stopped to thank her for filling in for the music director and to tell her how much they enjoyed her playing. She had a few animated discussions about the merits of one kind of music over another, and several people told her how bringing "real" music into the service–Michael's idea apparently–had brought them back to church.
 

Warmth filled Faith as she took in this community. Everyone she met welcomed her and made her feel at home. She wondered if other churches were like this or if Michael had worked his magic, making everyone feel like they'd found a place they belonged.
 

That thought stopped her dead in her tracks. Maybe that's all he'd been doing with her. Maybe what she’d seen as flirtation and attraction had just been Michael's normal behavior. The way he drew people in and made them feel immediately at home. Had she misjudged what was happening between them?
 

Before she could get too deep into introspection, she caught sight of Michael across the room. When their eyes met, his polite smile warmed, becoming something slightly more intimate just for her. She couldn't be wrong, could she? He must feel the attraction, too.
 

He held her gaze as he made his way across the room. He reached her and took one of her hands into one of his larger ones. "You were amazing tonight. I knew you were talented from the little bit you played yesterday, but tonight...I was blown away."
 

"Thanks. It was more fun than I thought it'd be."
 

"What did you think it would be?" Michael’s gaze swept her face.
 

Her heart picked up speed and the way he looked at her made her feel like they were the only two in the room. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Their eyes meeting across the room, making their way to one another. Could this man really be interested in her? Everything in her screamed yes, except for one niggling thought teasing at the back of her mind. The thought that said she wasn't good enough for someone as kindhearted as Michael. He was better suited to someone else. Someone who could whip up meals for the soup kitchen, offer support to the members of his congregation, someone who could set an example of how to live. Someone like...her sister.
 

She looked down for a moment, only to be startled by the feel of Michael's hand on her chin. He lifted her face up until their eyes met.

"Hey, where did you go just then?"
 

"Sorry." Faith shook her head. "I was just thinking about performing tonight. It's been a while since I've felt that kind of spark when I played. Thank you."
 

"No, thank you. You're incredibly talented. It was a gift to all of us to get to hear you."
 

Faith's eyes searched his, looking for some answers. She needed to know if he was simply grateful for her help this weekend or if he felt as amazed at finding her as she was at finding him.
 

"Father Michael." The voice that broke into their staring match was familiar. Of course Maddie had to come break things up.
 

"Maddie." Michael waited a moment, holding onto Faith's stare, before glancing over his shoulder at her sister. "What did you think of the service? Wasn't Faith great?"
 

Maddie's mouth formed a perfect O for a second as she obviously searched for the appropriate response. "We've always enjoyed Faith’s little hobby."
 

Faith bit her lip to hold in the snotty comeback she wanted to throw at Maddie. But as much as part of her wanted to snipe at her sister, the other part of her was mentally jumping up and down because her hand remained firmly held in Michael’s warm grip. Was he as loath to break the connection as she was?
 

Maddie waxed poetic about the service for the next few minutes, ending by telling Michael, "I'll definitely be back next week."
 

Oh, goody. Can’t wait for that.
She was about to share her sarcasm with her sister until Maddie’s eyes dipped down to their joined hands. Instead, she just indulged herself by offering a teeny, tiny smug smile.
 

Before Michael had a chance to respond, another church member called him over. He gave Faith's hand a quick squeeze before excusing himself to tend to the rest of his congregation, all vying for a little of his time.
 

Maddie snatched Faith's upper arm, her voice coming out in a hissed whisper through her teeth. "What do you think you're doing, Faith?"
 

"What are you talking about?"
 

"I'm talking about the way you've been throwing yourself at Father Michael. Honestly Faith, it's downright embarrassing."

Faith's heart hurt at her sister's words. Her eyes sought out Michael. From across the room his tall form and broad shoulders made him easy to pick out of the crowd. He smiled down at an elderly couple as the woman chatted animatedly.
 

"How is it embarrassing? I'm talking to Michael about the service." No way would she admit her feelings to Maddie. She might really go off on Faith. "It's no big deal."
 

"Oh, please. I see the goo-goo eyes you keep trained on him. It's obvious you have feelings for him."
 

Faith's teeth clenched and she held onto her temper by a thread. "I don't know why it's any of your business."

"I'm just trying to keep you from making a fool of yourself." Maddie's tone changed from venomous to saccharine sweet. Which personality was her sister pulling out of her bag of tricks now? "I mean, can you really see yourself with Father Michael?"
 

Faith rubbed two fingers against her temple. She’d give up her favorite guitar to avoid this conversation. "I hadn't really thought about it."
 

"Faith, he's a priest, for heaven's sake. You're a musician. You haven't ever held down a real job. Father Michael has an important position as head of this church. He has to put his reputation before any feelings he might have for some...well, someone like you."
 

Faith looked down at her feet expecting to see a pool of blood. Guess this wound only showed on the inside. Maddie's words reflected all the doubts Faith had over the last few days. She'd always been a screw-up. A man like Michael needed someone he could be proud to have by his side. He’d never look at her in a romantic way. Her face burned. She’d probably been making cow eyes at him like a lovesick twelve-year-old for the last two days.
 

But she’d be damned if she would give her sister the satisfaction of knowing she'd made a direct hit.
 

"I don't know why you'd think I was chasing after Michael. Do you remember my last few boyfriends–tattoos, motorcycles, artists–any of that ring a bell?" Her voice dripped sarcasm in the hope Maddie would believe her final words. "Like I'd ever be interested in a priest."
 

Maddie gave her a triumphant smile. Something wasn’t right here. Faith turned around and her breath stuck in her chest. Michael stood behind her, his hand hanging in midair as if he’d been about to touch her shoulder, his face frozen in an emotionless mask. There was no doubt he’d heard her last words loud and clear.
 

 
“Excuse me.” Michael’s voice was low and all the warmth had been leeched from his expression, making it suddenly clear that she shouldn’t have been worrying all this time. Her feelings hadn’t been one-sided or her misreading the signals. He’d been right there with her through all of it.
 

And now she got to see her favorite view one last time—as he turned around and walked away.
 

She turned to Maddie. Her mouth opened once and closed, unable to get out the words she wanted to hurl at her. She pulled in a shuddering breath but still felt as if she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. Her gaze darted around the room, but she couldn’t find the face she most wanted to see.

“Faith?”
 

Maddie’s voice was tentative, but Faith couldn’t stand there another minute. She might suffocate if she had to spend one more moment in this room with her sister.
 

She ran from the room and straight out the back door of the rectory. She hit the frigid November night and gasped, but welcomed the burning of her lungs as they finally filled. Not stopping long enough even to get her coat, she headed for home, running as fast as her legs would carry her away from the church and Michael.
 

Chapter Eight

Tuesday night Faith stood at the microphone, a guitar held in front of her. She looked out at the sparse weeknight crowd at the bar. She'd played there before. Too many times to count. The customers rocking the barstools were regulars who barely looked up from their beers as she played one of the songs she'd played at church Saturday evening.
 

It took great strength not to stop playing and sigh into the microphone. Her hands strummed the guitar strings, picking out the melody without thought. Her last words before leaving the church the other night had been ringing in her ears for days.
 

And the look on Michael's face.
 

Faith had been grateful she didn't carry a purse and instead had her house keys tucked in her front pants pocket when she made it home. She might have sat on her front stoop and froze to death otherwise. Cause there was no way she was going back to that church. Ever.
 

She got to the end of the song and there was a smattering of applause from the few who noticed she finished. She was supposed to play a couple more songs this set, but she was done. She leaned her guitar against the wall and dropped heavily onto a barstool.
 

"What's up, Faith?"
 

She managed to give the bartender a halfhearted smile. "Not too much. My heart just doesn't seem to be in it tonight."
 

Truer words were never spoken. Her heart hadn’t been in this scene for a while.

But here she was again, sitting on a barstool in a bar that had seen its best days decades ago. When she played here before, she hadn't been able to put her finger on exactly what was wrong. Saturday night reminded her of the fire she used to feel when she got up on stage.
 

Now that she knew what was missing, it was tough to go back to business as usual.
 

"I figured we might be seeing the last of you soon.”

Faith wrinkled her forehead. "What do you mean?"
 

"Could just tell things weren't the same for you as they used to be. Playing seems like more of a habit."
 

Wow.
He hit the nail on the head. Who knew it was so obvious? Maybe Michael had seen it too and offered the gig at the church to be kind. Maybe he was never interested in her. Maybe she took his overtures of friendship and kindness the wrong way.
 

But that didn't explain the hurt on his face when she'd dropped her bombshell. There had to be more than simple kindness from the neighborhood priest involved.
 

With a sigh, Faith slid off the barstool. "You know what? I think you're right. I have some things to figure out. I'm gonna call it a night."
 

The night was cold and crisp and clear. Faith shivered a little in her thermal sweatshirt, the warmest article of clothing she could find in her closet since she left her coat behind. She walked home anyway, her guitar case swinging at her side and the twinkling of Christmas decorations in shop windows lighting her way.
 

Faith thought the huddled figure on her doorstep was one of the homeless women in the neighborhood until she got close to her apartment building.
 

"Mom?"
 

"Faith. Thank goodness. I thought I might freeze to death before you got home. Honestly, I don't know how you keep these hours."