Father Figure Read online

  Mrs. O’Cee bustled around mixing a batch of pancakes and grilling bacon at the same time. Blue poured coffee for all of us, silent and distant, nothing like the tempting firecracker she’d been yesterday.

  Neil was standing by the back door, a coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other. He’d been trying to give up ever since I’d met him, but then he admitted he liked it too much to stop.

  “How’s the quittin’ going?” I asked, then smiled as he turned to look at me sheepishly.

  “Giving up is easy—I’ve done it lots of times. Besides, every man needs a vice,” he grinned. “Even priests.”

  “It’s a disgraceful waste of money and bad for your health,” said Father Miguel Angel without looking up from his morning paper.

  Miki was a good Priest but held his standards so high, I got a freakin’ cricked neck looking up to them. People needed someone more human to guide them. Life was tough enough without always being held accountable and always failing: I should know.

  Neil just laughed. “Ah, the odd vice, it helps us understand our flock better, don’t you think?”

  I was surprised to see a small smile on Blue’s face. I hadn’t realized that she’d been listening to the conversation.

  “Well, and what’s this?” asked Neil, bending down to look at something by the door. “Oh, you poor little soul! Who left you here in that box?”

  I craned my neck and saw Neil pick up an old shoebox, carrying it inside and placing it carefully on the breakfast table. Inside was a small black kitten, very young, and from the limp way it lay in the box, near starvation.

  Neil lifted the little creature out. “Mrs. O’Cee, can you get me some warm milk and water, and a towel to wrap up this little fellow?” His voice was soft and urgent, his kind face creasing with concern.

  But it was Blue who snatched up a towel and handed it to Neil.

  “It looks half-dead,” she said coldly, peering at the small creature.

  “Just hungry and scared,” said Neil.

  Mrs. O’Cee brought him a saucer of warm milk and water, and he tipped it toward the kitten. He tried to get the kitten to drink, but it just mewed softly, its eyes only half-open.

  “It needs to suckle,” said Blue. “Guess it got kicked out by its mom too early.”

  And she dipped her finger in the saucer and held it out to the kitten. I think we were all holding our breath to see if the kitten would drink.

  It stuck out its tiny pink tongue and licked Blue’s finger. Then again and again, until every drop of milk began to disappear.

  My pants tightened uncomfortably. Oh for fuck’s sake! I was jealous of a damn kitten licking Blue’s finger? I raised my eyes to Heaven—sometimes I didn’t appreciate God’s sense of humor.

  Miki snapped his newspaper closed, making the kitten squeak in fright. Blue tossed him an annoyed look, then went back to feeding the kitten.

  “Take it to the animal pound later,” Miki said to Neil as he walked out of the kitchen. “It’s where it belongs.”

  “Ah, Father Miguel Angel,” Mrs. O’Cee interrupted. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our mouse problem. And I think I saw a rat in the kitchen last week. Had to chase it with me broom, so I did. Could have been a big mouse, like a sumo mouse or a small rat. Maybe having a cat in the place would be a deterrent.”

  Miki frowned then nodded curtly. “We should get the pest controller in.”

  Mrs. O’Cee smiled blandly. “I’ll be sure to do that but I believe there’s been an outbreak of cockroaches in the city so it might take a while.”

  Miki grunted and closed the door behind him.

  “Do we have a mouse problem?” I whispered, just loud enough for Mrs. O’Cee to hear.

  She gave me a conspiratorial smile. “Lord love you, no! But the child doesn’t know that. I’ve just given her an excuse to let the little mite stay.” She nodded her head at Blue cuddling the tiny kitten and continuing to feed it, a look of concentration on her face. Mrs. O’Cee looked at me seriously. “I don’t think she’s ever had anything to love in her life before.”

  For ten long years, neither had I, until God found me.

  “Loving an innocent animal can teach someone a lot,” she went on quietly, looking at me meaningfully.

  Had I ever loved anyone other than Luke? My parents were a dim memory before a succession of foster homes, some good, some bad, most indifferent. Wes was my buddy and Rayla was great—I loved their kids in an abstract sort of way. I sometimes thought that I’d closed myself off to the idea of human love. I loved God, but now…

  “She’s asleep,” Blue said, her voice the gentlest I’d ever heard it.

  “And what are you going to name her?” asked Mrs. O’Cee, peering into the bundle of towel and black fur.

  “Lolly,” said Blue, smiling at the tiny creature. But as she passed my chair, I was the only one who heard her say in a low voice, “It’s short for Lolita,” and she gave me a sly smile.

  Fuck.

  It was the evening I went to the shelter to play basketball with the guys, but as I left the rectory, Blue was sitting on the front steps drinking from a can of cheap beer, with Lolly asleep in her lap.

  “Going to do good deeds?” she said with a lift of her chin and a curl of her lip.

  “Just going to shoot some hoops and chat with the guys. I enjoy it and it’s a kind of normal thing to do.” I shrugged. “Sometimes a man just needs to feel like he’s part of the human race.” I grinned at her. “Why? Want to come with me?”

  She shocked the hell out of me when she shrugged and nodded.

  “Sure. Let’s all feel normal. It’ll make a change.”

  My smile faded. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Spending more time with Blue was not a good idea. I’d just been so sure she’d say no.

  The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord.

  Thank you, Proverbs.

  While she carried the sleeping kitten up to her room, I was tempted to drive off, but that was the coward’s way out … even if it was smart, too.

  When she ran down the stairs, I nearly swallowed my tongue. She’d changed into a pair of teeny tiny cut-off shorts that showed her ass cheeks.

  “Blue, no,” I said firmly. “Some of the guys at the shelter have problems, you know what I’m saying? Wearing those shorts is going to cause trouble. Wear jeans, or you’re not coming.”

  “But it’s hot,” she whined.

  “This isn’t a negotiation,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Fine,” she hissed, then scrambled back up the stairs and returned a minute later wearing a pair of skintight jeans that showcased her peachy ass perfectly. But since she’d done exactly as I’d insisted, I couldn’t turn her away again.

  There was no doubt that the guys at the homeless shelter were more pleased to see Blue than me, even though I’d been coming here every week for seven years. But I couldn’t blame them for that. I’d told Blue that shooting hoops was just about rejoining the human race and feeling normal. And what was more normal for a red-blooded guy than appreciating a beautiful woman?

  Blue just slayed me. While I shot hoops and chatted with my regulars, she was all smiles and sunshine, a quiet word for everyone. Even Benny who never interacted with anyone nodded his head at her when she brought him a coffee. She smiled at him, too, even though he stank like a week-dead skunk. She didn’t smile at me like that, and I wondered again why she seemed to hate me so much.

  She fit in with the staff easily, helping serve the evening meal, and wasn’t intimidated by Mac who had Tourette Syndrome and cussed worse than my old BUD/S instructor.

  After three hours, I drove us home, the neon street lamps setting her hair on fire.

  “You did good tonight, Blue,” I said quietly.

  She threw me an irritated look. “They’re people. I talked to them. No big deal.”

  But it was a big deal to me. For the second time, I’d seen the soft heart inside this
hard woman. I thanked God, but it scared the fuck out of me, too. Blue was everything I would have wanted in a woman—and everything I couldn’t have.

  Alone in my room, I turned to the one simple thing in my life and knelt beside my bed.

  “Lord, I’m struggling. I feel like I’m splitting in two. I’ve been a priest for seven years and it’s been ten years since I answered your call. And in all that time, I’ve never felt this pull to sin and sin again. I’m failing your test, Lord, but I don’t understand why. What more do you want from me? How can I find peace again? Please help me, Lord!”

  As I begged for His mercy and confessed my deepest desires, I felt the warmth of unconditional love, the belief that I wasn’t beyond redemption.

  But in the dark center of my heart, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to be redeemed, not if it meant losing Blue.

  I held my rosary between my fingers and prayed long into the night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mariana

  Lolita slept at the foot of my bed and didn’t move all night. I’d never had a pet before, never had anyone relying completely on me. I googled the shit out of caring for kittens before I felt sure I wouldn’t hurt her by accident.

  I took her out before breakfast and at lunchtime to do her business, and gave her some special kitten formula that Mrs. O’Cee had bought.

  I thought it would be a long time before Lolita would be catching any mice, not that I’d seen signs of them, and I’d lived in a ton of rat-infested shitholes before. I thought it was more likely that Mrs. O’Cee just wanted to keep the kitten.

  I watched her sleep, her chest barely rising as she breathed, but her tiny tummy was full and round, and she still had a drop of milk clinging to her whiskers.

  I sighed and went to finish my boring chores. Not that my whole day would be boring … I had plans.

  I’d been surprised to learn that none of the priests in the rectory heard each other’s confessions. Although I guess that made sense. I mean, what if one of them had the hots for the other, which is what I’d begun to suspect about Father Neil. He was definitely lusting after Gabriel, but I could tell that he’d never act on it. It was kind of sad to think that he was in love with someone who would never love him back.

  Father Neil was kind and gentle. He always saw the good in everyone, even a first-class cunt like Michelle.

  “Ah, she’s a fine girl, a little troubled and lost in life, but I know there’s goodness buried in her heart.”

  “You’d need a freakin’ road drill to dig that deep,” I muttered over breakfast, and I saw Mrs. O’Cee hide a smile.

  “She’s not a bad girl,” Father Neil insisted, and I could tell that he meant it, which didn’t say much for his knowledge of teenage girls.

  But yeah, he wasn’t a bad dude, even though he totally wanted to get Gabriel naked. It was kind of pathetic, but I liked him despite his lapse in judgment.

  The point was, it would have been super awkward if Father Neil had to confess that to Father Miguel Angel, or even to Gabriel himself. That would be one mother of a shitstorm. So they all went to separate confessions at other churches. I knew where Gabriel went, and I really wanted to hear what he had to confess today. Knowledge is power, and I was determined to hold onto all the power I had, and then some.

  As I already knew where he was going and when, I didn’t have to follow him, I just left five minutes later and rocked up at St. Jude’s while he was still praying.

  I tiptoed into the church, staring up at the gaudy statues and gloomy paintings in between sneaking glances at Gabriel.

  He was kneeling in the first pew, his dark head bent so that he blended with the slanting shadows falling from the tall, stained glass windows.

  I got a buzz out of watching him when he was so oblivious. His normal setting was alert, and when I’d been following him during my research trips, I’d had to be super careful not to get caught, and I’d used a lot of disguises, hats, wigs, headscarves, and whatnot since my hair was always noticeable. But even then, I’d had the impression at times that he knew someone was watching him.

  But in prayer, that hum of electricity that vibrated under his skin, that constant movement was absent. Whatever he was talking to God about must have been pretty intense.

  I moved past him cautiously, casting a glance back at his fierce, frowning face, eyes shut, hands gripped tightly together. Yeah, he looked like he was in pain, and I smiled.

  Then I squeezed into a space behind the confessional, a huff of frustration as I snagged my skirt on a splinter of wood.

  “Hello, is there someone there?” asked the priest in the confessional.

  I held my breath and willed him not to come look for me. I guess God was on my side in this battle because after a few seconds, I heard him settle back onto his seat. Jeez, it must be so boring to sit waiting for people to come and tell you all their crappy sins. I wondered if he hoped for some real juicy ones for a change. I thought he’d probably get his wish today.

  After several more boring and uncomfortable minutes, I recognized Gabriel’s light tread as he entered the confessional.

  “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was three weeks ago.”

  The elderly priest replied immediately.

  “The Lord declares in Isaiah 43:25: ‘I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins.’ Speak freely, my son and confess all that is in your heart.”

  I leaned forward, straining to hear every word. They should sell tickets for this—way more interesting than Netflix.

  “I’ve been having lustful thoughts, Father,” said Gabriel in a heavy voice that ached with every word. I hugged my knees gleefully as he continued. “And I can’t stop them. Sometimes I feel like I don’t want to stop them. I’ve kept my body pure for ten years, Father, and haven’t lain with any woman. I’ve had impure thoughts before, but not like this. I’m haunted by this woman, Father. She’s hardly a woman either—maybe 18 or 19. I sicken myself thinking about all the things I want to do with her, but it excites me, too. I don’t know how to turn it off, I don’t know how to stop. I’ve prayed and prayed for the Lord to release me from this torment, but He doesn’t. And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to hold out. I’m trying, I am, but Father, she makes it so hard. She makes me hard. I’m excited and ashamed at the same time. How is that possible?”

  There was a long silence while the old priest considered.

  “Have you self-abused yourself, son?”

  “Yes, Father. More than once. Every day since I met her, I wake up aching.”

  I liked the idea that Gabriel had jacked off to me, but it turned me on, too. Sick and twisted as it was, Gabriel’s torment got me hot.

  “And last Sunday, I nearly hit one of my parishioners—a little shi— dude named Diego, just for talking to her at the park last Sunday. I saw him smiling at her and I wanted to rip his arms off and beat him to a bloody pulp. I had to walk away.”

  “Ah, Son, ‘A man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires’.”

  “I know that, Father, better than most men. But she reminds me of someone. A woman from a long time ago. It’s crazy but I feel this connection with the past. I never even knew her name—she was my best friend’s woman for one night. I was jealous, and I wish I’d gotten to choose her. And I know this woman now can’t be her, she’s too young, but I keep going back to the man I was then—that cocky s.o.b. who thought the world owed him a living on a silver plate. And it’s like the last twenty years have disappeared. I feel like I’m losing myself, Father. I’m losing my way.”

  My mind twisted chaotically hearing Gabriel’s words. If he’d gotten his choice that night, he’d be having wet dreams about his own daughter. How fucked up was that? It was even better than I’d hoped.

  “Listen, my son,” said the old priest sharply. “You’re a role model for your flock, their shepherd through the trials of
life: you have to cast aside this dark path you’re following. I can’t say it plainly enough—stop before there is no turning back.”

  “I know it, I do,” Gabriel pleaded, “but when I saw her for the first time, it was like her hair was on fire, the sun blazing down, and for a split second, I thought, God has given me a second chance. But how can that be when I’m a priest? I know I have to be a role model, her father figure, and when I woke up this morning that’s what I was going to do. I felt calm and resolved and I knew how to go on. But … I see her everywhere, all day long, in my dreams, in my nightmares. I saved her, took her off the streets, but now … I can’t stand it! I can’t stand the temptation.”

  “Perhaps she sees you as her savior, her knight in shining armor? Young girls have crushes all the time.”

  “I don’t know about that—she acts more like she hates me and she’s always watching me. I know there’s more to her story, but she won’t open up to me yet.”

  Damn! This was getting good and I couldn’t help smiling to myself. Oh, I will open up to you, Gabriel, but it’ll be my legs, not my heart. God, he was pathetic. He believed in all this shit, confessing his great sins for what most men did without thinking. No wonder I didn’t believe in anything.

  “Can you say, my son, that you are truly sorry for your impure thoughts?”

  The silence stretched thin as I held my breath, waiting for Gabriel to answer.

  “No,” he whispered, at last, his voice catching on the word.

  The elderly priest drew in a long breath.

  “This girl will break you, my son. You must repent your sins.”

  “I’m not sorry. I wish I was, but I’m not.”

  “Then I cannot absolve you of your sin, my son. You know this.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Father! Help me, please!”

  The old priest sighed.

  “You must pray for strength and you must ask the Lord to reveal his plan for you. And Gabriel, you must stay away from this girl. Take a break, go to your mountains—Neil and Miguel Angel will cover for you. Go, think, and make your peace with God. Now, say the Act of Contrition with me.”