Bless Us Father (13 page)

“Yes, Sister. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Sister Bernadette turned her back to the class and began writing on the chalk board. “All right, class, here are your reading assignments for this semester. Write them down and make sure you stay up to date. You will be expected to be prepared to discuss the readings knowledgably at each class session, and there will be pop quizzes.”

Mary Margaret wrote furiously in her notebook, trying hard to focus on what Sister was saying.

Sister Bernadette passed out textbooks and had a list of the books they would be required to read.

Mary Margaret frowned at the list. If she couldn’t get the books at the library, she would have to ask her parents for more money and that worried her. Dad seemed to be working longer hours at Douglas Aircraft and was home less and less. She wondered if that had something to do with Mom’s more grumpy than usual moods.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. She went from class to class getting her assignments and was soon walking to her job at the rectory, laden down with homework.

She heard footstep behind her and turned to see Danny Ellis.

“Hi, Mary Margaret. Can I help you with some of those books?” he asked, smiling.

“I...I suppose. They are getting heavy, but you’ve got a lot of your own to carry.”

“That’s all right. I can handle them.”

Mary Margaret handed him two of her books and noticed that he did look like he’d grown or something. He was also wearing the same blue corduroy pants; white button front shirt and blue cardigan sweater that the boys wore that went to St. Dominic’s High School.

“Why are you wearing those clothes?” Mary Margaret asked.

Smiling even broader, he said, “I’m going to St. Dominic’s now. My parents decided they could afford it and it will be better for me.”

“Really? You’re not a public schooler anymore?”

“Nope. Now your parents will have to let you go out with me when you turn seventeen.”

A glimmer of hope started to shine inside Mary Margaret’s heart. Danny was so cute and it would be good to have a friend again.

“I won’t be seventeen for another year and two months,” she said.

“That’s okay. I can wait,” he answered, brown eyes sparkling despite the gloominess of the day.

“You had to cut all your hair off,” Mary Margaret said, just noticing his crew cut.

“Yeah. They’re pretty strict about that. No hair on the collar or over the ears allowed.”

“It looks nice and neat, though.”

He laughed out loud. “I don’t know about nice but neat it is.”

They walked in companionable silence for a few more houses, then arrived at Danny’s home.

Mary Margaret stopped in front of his house. “I can carry them the rest of the way.”

“Your house is several blocks more. They’re too heavy,” he protested.

“Oh, I’m not going to my house. I have to work at the rectory and it’s just down the street.”

“Let me walk you there. I’ll just drop off my books on the porch.”

Without waiting for an answer, he ran up the walk to his front door and dropped his books on the top step.

A wave of fear swept over her as she watched him walk back towards her. What if Father Antonio saw him? He’d been really angry at Danny at the festival.

Realizing that Danny looked a lot different with his short hair and Catholic school uniform and Father probably wouldn’t recognize him even if he did see him.

“This is so nice of you, Danny,” Mary Margaret said, handing him all of her books. “Someday maybe there will be some kind of a bag we can carry our books home in so it will be easier.”

“Good idea. Maybe you should invent something,” he said, laughingly.

As they approached the parking lot of St. Catherine’s Church, Mary Margaret looked around for Father Antonio’s car. She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see it parked in his personal spot next to the rectory.

Danny walked her to the back door and handed her her books. “Here you are, Mary Margaret. Thanks for letting me carry them for you.”

She smiled when their hands touched as he passed the books to her. “No, thank you for carrying them. It was nice seeing you.”

He turned to go, saying, “Maybe we’ll meet up again tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” she said, waving goodbye.

She stood on the back step and watched as he jogged towards home.

The back door opened suddenly and Mary Margaret startled at Father Antonio’s voice.

“I see someone carried your books for you,” he said, without a smile on his lips or in his voice.

“I have a lot of homework to do tonight and they’re really heavy.”

“Perhaps you should come in and get to work then, instead of staring after the young man.”

She blushed from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes and fingers. She had to duck under his arm that was holding the door open for her, and she flushed even hotter as her body brushed against his.

Looking into the kitchen as she passed, she noticed it was empty and there weren’t any cooking scents emanating from the room.

“Where’s Mrs. Hunter?” she asked as she heard the lock being turned on the back door.

“She took Father O’Malley to the airport and won’t be back tonight,” he said, following close behind Mary Margaret.

“The airport?” she asked, putting her books down on the reception room desk. “Is he going somewhere?”

Father Antonio was close behind her now. So close that she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

“He’s on his way to Ireland to visit his family. He’s going to be gone for six weeks.”

“Six weeks?”

She felt his arms encircling her waist from behind. Then his hands moved up and cupped both of her breasts, massaging them gently.

He bent his head down to her neck and pressed his moist lips just below her ear.

She felt the familiar warm, tingly feeling start in her stomach and move lower. It felt so good she didn’t want him to stop.

“Yes,” he said in between kisses on her neck and ear. “He’s gone for six weeks and I’m in charge of everything.”

She felt him loosen his embrace, and was momentarily disappointed until he put his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her to the blue couch. Once there, he turned her around and nodded to her to sit. She did so, but then he pressed her to the side and onto her back, lifting her legs onto the couch as he did so.

He lowered himself onto the couch and positioned his body between her legs, all the while kissing her cheeks, nose, forehead, and then her mouth.

She felt herself stiffen, even though she was having more tingly feelings in her stomach than she’d ever thought possible. This was beginning to scare her. What was Father doing? Wasn’t this what married people did?

“Relax, Mary Margaret,” he said, smoothing her hair out of her face. “I’m not going to hurt you, my special one. I’ll never hurt you. It’s just that I’ve missed you.”

She relaxed a little and closed her eyes as he put his mouth over hers. His tongue pressed through her lips and against her teeth that she kept tightly closed.

“Open your mouth, Mary Margaret. Just a little.”

She did, and he gently moved his tongue inside her mouth. It was as if he was tasting her. Soon, her tongue was moving, too, and she was tasting him. She opened her mouth wider and he thrust deeper.

She was just getting used to this sensation when she felt his hand pulling her skirt up around her waist. His clothes were on, but he’d unzipped his pants and was pressing his male parts against her underwear. Somehow they’d grown into a hard lump. Her eyes opened wide at this new sensation and she stiffened again in fear.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, his voice deep and throaty. “Just lay there.”

He pressed himself harder against her and his breathing was heavy and coming in little gasps.

She hoped he wasn’t having a heart attack or something. How would she explain this?

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it ended with a groan from Father Antonio. He collapsed against her and she felt like she was going to be smothered.

He sat up then, pulling her skirt back down over her legs.

“You’d better go to the bathroom and straighten yourself up, Mary Margaret. You look a bit disheveled,” he said as he stood, tucked his shirt back into his pants and zipped them back up.

A flush of hot shame swept over her as she ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Splashing cold water on her face made her feel a bit better, and she pressed a wet washcloth against her sore lips. She took the hairbrush she kept in the drawer out and brushed her hair, and examined herself in the mirror. Satisfied that she looked all right, she decided she’d better check her private female parts. She raised her skirt, pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet. Her panties were slightly damp, but that was all. There wasn’t any blood on them. Tentatively, she placed her right hand over herself and gently probed the soft tissue between her legs. The area still felt tingly, but nothing hurt when she touched it.

She remembered the conversation she and Linda had had about having sex and losing your virginity. This must not have been sex, then. Everything was still intact as far as she could tell.

“Are you all right, Mary Margaret?” Father Antonio asked from the other side of the door.

“Yes...yes, Father. I’ll be right out.”

As soon as she opened the door, he wrapped her in a gentle embrace and kissed the top of her head.

“You are my special, special, one, Mary Margaret. I’m so glad you came into my life.”

Mary Margaret relaxed at his words and hug. He did care about her and she was very important to him. Maybe he even loved her.

Releasing her, he said, “Now you’d better go tend to the phones and do your homework. I can’t have you getting behind in school or your parents might make you stop working here with me. I couldn’t bear that.”

Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.

-Arthur Miller-

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mary Margaret was walking towards her house after having spent Saturday morning at the library looking for the books on her reading list so she wouldn’t have to ask her father for money to buy them, when she noticed a man coming out of her house. Who was he and why was he touching her mother’s arm? She quickened her pace on the sidewalk.

Mom had been reading the paper and drinking coffee when she left, and now she was laughing with some strange man.

Mary Margaret’s heart caught in her throat when she realized who the man was. It was Father Antonio. HER Father Antonio! Dressed in slacks and a button-down collar shirt. He didn’t look at all like a priest.

She slowed her steps, hoping they would notice her. They didn’t. Mary Margaret cleared her throat.

Father Antonio turned to look at her, then quickly glanced away. “Oh, hello Mary Margaret.”

“Hello, Father. Hi Mom.”

Her mother nervously ran her fingers through her hair. “You’re back early. Did you find the books you needed?”

“Most of them.” Mary Margaret was glaring at her mother as she spoke. “I’ll only have to buy two, and I shouldn’t have to ask you for the money, either.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she pushed by her mother and Father Antonio, and ran into the house to the sanctuary of her bedroom. She closed the door and propped a chair against it so no one could enter, then threw herself down on her bed and let the tears flow. Rolling over onto her stomach, she sobbed into her pillow. She felt betrayed, but didn’t really understand why. Instinctively she knew something was wrong with her mother’s meetings with Father Antonio. Just like she knew the relationship she had with him was wrong, too. But she’d met him first, and wasn’t she special to him?

Mary Margaret covered her head with her pillow to block out the knocking on her door. Soon it became impossible to ignore though, as the rapping turned into a loud banging, followed by her mother’s voice.

“Open the door this instant, Mary Margaret, and let me in. I mean it.”

“NO!”

“I will not tolerate your disobedience, young lady. Open the door before I get the sledgehammer and knock it down!”

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Mary Margaret wiped the tears away with her hands. She realized her mother was serious and if she didn’t open the door, she’d be in big trouble. She got up and removed the chair from under the door knob.

“Just what’s the meaning of this little tantrum you’re throwing?” Mrs. Riley’s face was red with fury.

“It isn’t a tantrum.”

“What do you call it then? It’s a ridiculous emotional display of some kind and I’d like an explanation. Now.”

“So would I,” Mary Margaret said.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d like to know what Father Antonio was doing here while I was at the library and Dad’s at work.”