Bless Us Father (15 page)

“Would you like some toast?” Mom asked as she put the plate piled high with bacon, eggs and fried potatoes in front of Mary Margaret.

“Oh, gosh no, Mom. This is more than enough.”

Mother went to the stove and poured herself another cup of strong black coffee, then returned to the table and sat in her chair.

“We have to get all the spring cleaning done this weekend since it’s your birthday next weekend,” she said.

“What difference does it make?” Mary Margaret asked. “I won’t be doing any celebrating, anyway. Dad won’t be here, I don’t have any friends, and you never want to do anything.”

“Oh, but I have a surprise for you. This is going to be a special birthday.”

Puzzled, Mary Margaret stared at her mother and waited for her to continue.

“Our own dear Father Antonio volunteered to take you on an outing for your birthday. I was telling him how sad you’ve been lately and how much you’ve missed your father.”

“MOTHER! You didn’t!”

“Well, yes, I did. And Father Antonio--being the wonderfully understanding man he is--came and asked my permission for him to take you on a drive up to the mountains.”

“The mountains? You mean like Big Bear?”

“Yes, Big Bear. He said he needed to check out a retreat center there anyway, and he thought perhaps you’d like to ride along. There’s still snow in the mountains.”

Mary Margaret didn’t know what to think. She wasn’t allowed to date, yet her mother was going to permit her to go off for an entire day with Father Antonio.

“You don’t act excited, Mary Margaret. You haven’t been up in the mountains since we took you sledding that time when you were six years old. Don’t you want to go?”

“Well...yes, of course I want to go. It will be....”

“Be what? Don’t stutter. You know how that annoys me.”

“It will be a different birthday, that’s all. Usually we all celebrate together. It’s going to seem weird without Dad.”

“You’re just going to have to make the best of it. Your dad isn’t going to be home this year for your birthday and I can’t change that. Do you want to go with Father or not?”

“Yes...yes, I want to go to with him. It will be fun,” she said. It would actually be her first date, in an odd sort of way. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed, and all of that....

It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble.

-Luke 17:2-

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following Saturday, Mary Margaret didn’t have any trouble getting out of bed before the crack of dawn. The week had gone by so slowly she almost couldn’t stand it. She and Father Antonio were going to the mountains together. Just the two of them. No chaperones, no parents, and no other teenagers. The thought made her giddy and nervous all at the same time.

She’d taken an hour to bathe and dress, unable to decide which sweater to wear with her dark green wool pants. She’d finally decided on a light green cardigan sweater over an even lighter green long sleeved collared blouse. She looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised to see that her usually blue eyes looked green.

Mom had found a white knit cap, muffler and gloves for her to wear, so she’d curled her hair and didn’t put it in a ponytail. It fell in soft waves down her back. She wished she could rat it and pouf it up like in the hairstyle magazines, but Mom would never allow that. She was lucky she was finally allowed to wear pink lipstick now that she was sixteen.

Mary Margaret heard her mother’s footsteps coming down the hall and opened her bedroom door before her mom got there.

“What a pleasant surprise this is. You’re dressed and ready to go I see,” her mom said, not smiling. “Too bad you can’t do this on Saturdays when I need help around the house.”

“It’s my birthday, Mom. Please don’t nag me today.”

Mrs. Riley allowed herself to smile slightly. “You’re right. Not today. Come eat your breakfast before Father gets here. I don’t want him to have to spend money on you. Lord knows he doesn’t have any to spend.”

Puzzled at this statement, Mary Margaret followed her mother to the kitchen. Father always seemed to have money. He didn’t think twice about buying pizza and Pepsis, and 45 records, either. He had lots of nice clothes to wear on his days off, too.

“I’m not very hungry, Mom,” she said, looking at the pancakes piled high on her plate.

“Eat it anyway. There are starving children in China.”

Mary Margaret picked up her knife and fork, knowing better than to argue with her mother about the starving children.

“Did you put on good underwear?”

Shocked at this question, Mary Margaret felt heat creeping up her neck, and didn’t answer her mother. Why would she ask about good underwear? Surely she didn’t think....

“God forbid you have some sort of an accident and end up in the hospital with old torn underwear on.”

“Oh for gosh sakes, Mother. Of course I’m wearing good underwear,” she answered, relieved. “I’m not a baby. I do know how to dress.”

She was just finishing the last of her pancakes and milk when she heard a soft knock at the front door.

“I’ll get it,” her mother said, taking off her apron and patting her hair to make sure it was in place.

Mary Margaret took her dirty dishes to the sink and placed them in the warm sudsy water her mother had left for her. She walked to the kitchen door and peeked her head out. Father Antonio was following her mother down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Would you like some breakfast, Father?”

“No thank you, Mrs. Riley.”

“Please call me Ellen.”

“Well, then, no thank you, Ellen. I’ve already eaten. Mrs. Hunter arrived bright and early and had a huge breakfast cooked for me when I got downstairs. She takes good care of me.”

“I hear she is a wonderful cook, too. I’ve packed a lunch for you and Mary Margaret,” she said, picking up a basket covered with a red checked towel. “I hope you like bologna sandwiches. I thought they would keep well. I put some chocolate chip cookies in as well.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Ellen, but I appreciate it. I was going to take Mary Margaret to a restaurant for an early birthday dinner while we’re up in the mountains. Now I have a better idea.”

“What’s that, Father?” Mrs. Riley asked.

“We’ll have your lunch in the mountains, then we’ll drive back down in time to take you to dinner, too. We’ll go to the Dal Rae in Pico Rivera. I’ve been told it’s very nice.”

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Riley exclaimed, clutching her throat. “I’ve never been anywhere that fancy. We can’t afford it.”

“It’s my treat,” Father Antonio said. “I insist. A girl only turns sixteen once.”
 “Oh, dear, well I suppose we could go. What do you think, Mary Margaret?”

Mary Margaret couldn’t believe the way her mother was acting. She was fluttering around and blushing. She acted like it was her birthday or something. 
 “It’s okay with me, I guess,” she finally said.

Father Antonio clapped his hands together. “Then it’s decided. We’ll be home from the mountains by six. That will give us enough time to dress and drive to Pico Rivera for dinner at seven.”

“Goodness. I don’t have a thing to wear,” Mrs. Riley said to no one in particular. “It’s been so long since we’ve been out. I’ll just have to look through my closet.”

“Let’s get going, Mary Margaret. Do you have a coat?” Father asked.

“I’ll get it,” she said, hurrying to her bedroom.

She was back in an instant. She had to squeeze by her mother who was standing in the hallway, very close to Father Antonio.

“Just a minute, young lady,” Mrs. Riley said. “How about a goodbye kiss?”

Mary Margaret turned back around and brushed her mother’s cheek with a half-hearted kiss. “Bye, Mom. Thanks for letting me off housework duty today.”

“You’re welcome, dear. It’s your birthday after all.”

#

They drove surface streets from Whittier to the new California ten freeway to San Bernardino. It was a beautifully clear California day. There was no sign of smog in the air and the mountains looked much closer than they usually did. Though it was already March, there’d been a late rain storm that covered the mountains in snow.

“California has richness similar to my home country. I haven’t missed Colombia as much since I transferred here,” Father Antonio said.

“Does Colombia have mountains and snow?”

“Oh yes, we have the Andes mountains and they have snow year round in places. My home city of Bogota is at the base of the Andes.”

“How about Boston? Is it as pretty as California?”

Father Antonio clenched his jaw and seemed to grip the steering wheel harder. Finally, he said, “Boston may be a wonderful city to some, but to me it was just a cold, damp, lonely place to be. I much prefer California.”

Feeling like she’d said something she shouldn’t, Mary Margaret changed the subject. Looking out of her window, she said, “Oh my gosh. We’re going up into the mountains already. It’s really steep on this side.”

Father didn’t answer. Instead he slowed down a little and kept his eyes on the road ahead.

“I don’t think I’d like to drive on these roads. They’re really narrow and scary. What if it were snowing or raining? Boy, that would be really dangerous. I think I’ll close my eyes until we get to the top. Why don’t they have a fence along the side?” Mary Margaret began biting her nails.

“It’s not dangerous if I drive slowly, Mary Margaret. Don’t worry. Our Lord and Savior is with us,” Father Antonio said.

Reassured, Mary Margaret settled back into the seat and wrapped her coat tighter around her. She felt herself relaxing and closed her eyes.

“Wake up, Mary Margaret. We’re here,” Father said, gently shaking her shoulder.

She opened her eyes to a winter wonderland. They were parked in front of a huge log cabin structure. The roof was high pitched and was covered with snow. Icicles hung from the eaves and dripped water onto the snow, making tiny holes in it. Lights were on inside and the chimney had smoke coming out of it.

“Is this the retreat house?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Yes, we’ve arrived at Mountain Meadows,” Father said, opening the car door. “Let’s take our lunch basket inside with us. I’d rather eat where it’s warm.”

“Me, too,” she said, getting out of the car and going around to the open trunk where Father Antonio handed her the basket to carry.

He took a paper bag out of the trunk then closed and locked the trunk.

Mary Margaret followed him to the door. “Who’s here?” she asked.

“No one. There’s a caretaker that does all the maintenance around the retreat house and he came earlier to build a fire for us so the house wouldn’t be so cold inside.”

“That’s nice. I’m already freezing. I didn’t realize how cold it was outside while we were inside the warm car.”

Father hurriedly unlocked the door and held it open for her. He followed her inside and locked the door behind them.

“My, this is lovely,” he said, surveying the main great room. The ceiling was high and had log beams running across it. Pine board paneled the walls, and a rough hewn table ran the length of the dining area. There were wooden chairs on either side of the table, and it looked like at least twenty people could be seated comfortably. The sitting area had numerous mismatched chairs and sofas covered in various fabrics. Some were plaid, some striped, and some in Indian designs. There were pillows on each of the sofas and somehow they all blended together well, despite the different coverings. It made the space seem warm and inviting.

He put the paper bag down and took the picnic basket from Mary Margaret, placing it on the table.

“Come, let’s go check the kitchen and see if it is adequate for cooking for a large group.”

The two opened cupboards and drawers to check for utensils, pots, and pans, and Father Antonio tested the burners on the stove by lighting the pilot lights and turning them on.

“This is the biggest Frigidaire I’ve ever seen,” Mary Margaret commented after looking inside. “You can keep lots of food in here.”

“The cooking facilities are more than adequate. Let’s go check out the dorm rooms, shall we?” he asked, not looking at her.

“Okay, how many people are going to use the place?” she asked.

“I believe they said it sleeps twenty. That’s plenty for a pastoral retreat.”

“Oh, are priests going to stay here?”

“That’s the plan, I believe. I’m just assigned to check it out to make sure everyone will be comfortable.”

Mary Margaret followed as they walked back to the great room. Father picked up the paper bag he’d brought in with him, causing her to wonder what he had inside. She wanted to ask, but thought better of it.

“The sleeping rooms must be down that way,” Father said, pointing to a long hallway.

The first room they stopped by had two single beds in it, a desk and chair, and an overstuffed easy chair with a lamp next to it. Father put the paper bag just inside the door, then placed his hand on Mary Margaret’s back and gently pushed her on down the hall.