Bless Us Father (2 page)

Mary Margaret blushed. “No, Father. I’m only fifteen. Mother and Father won’t allow me to date until I’m seventeen and a junior in high school.”

Father O’Malley laughed out loud. “Good for them. They’re good Catholic parents, those Rileys are. Of course they know what boys are up to at this age. They’re up to no good that’s what. And they only want one thing from the girls. Sinners they are, sinners.”

“Father! I’ve been looking all over for you. Your dinner is ready,” Mrs. Hunter said, taking him by the arm. “I’ve got a cocktail waiting for you.”

“Good, because the cocktail hour almost got past me,” he said, winking at Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret chuckled to herself as he left. She’d always liked Father O’Malley, even though everyone knew he drank way too much whiskey. Her parents said it was because he was Irish, but Mary Margaret didn’t see her parents drinking whiskey at all hours of the day and night and they were both Irish.

The telephone rang for the first time and it startled her. Once she recovered from the surprise, she lifted the receiver and answered, “Saint Catherine Laboure Church, Mary Margaret speaking. May I help you?”

“This is Father Antonio. Please tell Father O’Malley I’ve been delayed a bit. I should be there in a few minutes. My plane was late getting in but I’ve gotten my luggage now and I see the driver outside. Tell him not to wait dinner for me.”

“I’ll tell him Father...Anthony.”

“It’s Father Antonio Velasquez.”

“Oh, sorry Father Antonio, I’ll go tell him right now.”

Mary Margaret hung up and tentatively walked through the hallways, following voices to where she hoped the dining room was. She found Father O’Malley sitting at the table with Mrs. Hunter hovering over, scolding him.

“I cook these green vegetables because they’re good for you and your doctor says you need to eat more fresh vegetables. Now eat them and don’t just eat the mashed potatoes and gravy.”

“I don’t like green vegetables. I like potatoes. I’m Irish. Why don’t you ever cook corned beef and cabbage? I’ll eat that vegetable,” he said petulantly. “You’re always pushing food on me that I don’t like. You and that doctor conspire.”

“I don’t cook cabbage because it gives you gas, that’s why.” Mrs. Hunter shook her head and turned her plump body back towards the kitchen. She noticed Mary Margaret in the doorway and said, “What is it dear? Do you need Father for something?”

“There was a telephone call from a Father Antonio. He said he’s on his way, but he doesn’t want you to wait dinner for him.”

“Who is this Father Antonio?” Mrs. Hunter asked, fixing Father O’Malley with a dark look.

“He’s the new priest we’ve been expecting, that’s who. I told you he was coming today.”

“Matthew O’Malley, you did no such thing.” Mrs. Hunter put her hands on her hips. “Since when are we getting a new priest?”

“Since the Cardinal called and said he was being transferred here from Boston, that’s when.” He shook his head and held a finger to his temple. “I don’t know. Maybe a week or so ago. Are you sure I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course I’m sure. I would have gotten a room ready if I’d known. Now my husband will have to get his own dinner again. Just once in awhile I’d like to get out of here to go home at the hour I’m supposed to. Is that too much to ask?”

Father O’Malley watched Mrs. Hunter stomp out of the room and up the stairs to the sleeping quarters to ready the room for the new priest. He looked towards Mary Margaret with a mischievous expression and said, “And that, my dear, is why I chose to enter the priesthood. I don’t believe I could tolerate a wife full time.”

Mary Margaret laughed with him. “I’d better go back to the front office. I’ve got more homework to do, too.”

“You go do that, Miss Riley. And make sure you watch for the new priest. Bring him back here when he arrives. I’ll let him eat my broccoli.”

She laughed all the way back to the office. She’d known Father O’Malley was a character, but now he was treating her more like a grown-up than a kid, and she was seeing a whole new side to him. He was a funny old guy.

She’d almost finished her English literature assignment when there was a knock at the front door. She looked out through the peep hole and found she was staring right at a Roman clerical collar. She opened the door and caught her breath.

“Hello, young lady. Are you the Mary Margaret I talked to on the phone? I’m Father Antonio Velasquez,” he said with a faint Spanish accent. “Father O’Malley is expecting me.”

Mary Margaret stared at the priest and was unable to react. He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever seen. He had black wavy hair with touches of gray at the temple, and eyes that were such a dark brown they looked black. He had a dimple in his chin, long curly eyelashes, and a day’s growth of beard on his face. He was slender and stood so tall that her head only came to his mid chest. He looked like a movie star or better yet, Elvis.

“Are you going to let me in?” he asked, amused.

“I’m so sorry, Father. This is my first night on the job and I’m a little nervous.”

“You look like an old pro to me.” He reached into his bag and pulled something out. “In honor of your first night at work, and my first night here, I think you deserve a little gift.”

Mary Margaret reached for the objects. When Father Antonio placed them in her hand, he put his other hand on top and held it there for so long she felt her face color. He held on for just a moment longer, then gave a gentle squeeze and released her hand.

She raised them up to the light. They were beautiful hair barrettes, gold colored with pearls and rhinestones adorning them.

“They’re from my country, Colombia,” he said. “I knew they would come in handy. They’re perfect for your beautiful blonde hair.”

“I don’t know what to say, Father. How can I thank you?”

“That’s all you need to say, Mary Margaret. Your face tells all.” He reached out with his right hand and gently stroked her cheek. “Now, I think you’d better take me to Father O’Malley.”

Mary Margaret legs were shaking as she led the way down the hall to the dining room. Father O’Malley had hugged her and held her hands a lot of times over the years, but his touch hadn’t felt like Father Antonio’s.

“Ah, there you are Father Anthony,” Father O’Malley said. “Please sit and eat dinner before it gets too cold. There isn’t much chicken left, but there’s lots of broccoli.”

“It’s Father Antonio, and I love broccoli.”

“Then we’ll get along just fine, I see.”

“Yes, we will, I think I’m going to like it here,” Father Antonio said. But he was only looking at Mary Margaret.

The deepest definition of youth is life as yet untouched by tragedy.

-Alfred North Whitehead-

CHAPTER TWO

“Linda, you’ve just got come to Mass so you can see him. He’s so handsome. I almost fainted when I opened the door to the rectory and he was standing there.” Mary Margaret looked at her reflection in the gym mirror. She pulled her navy blue uniform sweater up and rolled the top of her plaid skirt in order to shorten it.

Linda Gardener was Mary Margaret’s best friend. They’d gone all through grade school together and now were in their second year of high school. Linda was a good head shorter than Mary Margaret and she hadn’t yet begun to blossom into a young woman.

“If Sister sees you, you’re going to be in big trouble. She told you to stop rolling up your skirts.”

“Are you even listening to me? I’m telling you about this priest that looks like Elvis and all you can talk about is me rolling up my skirt.”

Mary Margaret took out a tube of pale pink lipstick and dabbed just a tiny bit onto her lower lip.

“Oh boy, now you’re really gonna get in trouble. You know we can’t wear makeup in school,” Linda said, her eyes wide. “You’ll be on restriction for the rest of your life if you don’t watch out.”

“You’re so square. How are you ever going to get a boyfriend?”

Linda shook her head. “I’m not the least bit interested in getting a boyfriend right now, and you shouldn’t be, either. We can’t date until we’re in the eleventh grade.”

Mary Margaret flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt to practice a little now, you know.”

Linda grabbed her arm, squeezing it tightly. “Wait a minute. You’re not putting makeup on and rolling your skirt to impress the new priest, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Mary Margaret said, wrenching her arm free from Linda’s grip. “I thought I might see Danny Ellis while I’m walking over to the rectory, that’s all.”

Looking relieved, Linda said, “That’s right. You’ve had a crush on him forever.”

“Yeah, and he lives down the street from the parish, so I just might bump into him.”

“See you tomorrow then. I’m going to the library to study.” Linda gathered her belongings and started out the door. “Don’t let Sister catch you looking like this.”

Mary Margaret pulled her sweater up again and unrolled her skirt. “I don’t think she’ll notice the lipstick, do you?”

“No, it’s pretty subtle. See you later.”

Mary Margaret watched her friend leave, then gathered her own belongings to put in her gym locker. She took her stack of books out and put them on the floor, then placed her gym clothes inside and closed the lock. She’d have to remember to take them home on Friday to wash, or she’d get another detention.

Her books were heavy, but she balanced them in the crook of one arm and picked up her purse with her other hand. She wished she had a bag that would carry everything, but that was considered so uncool. The walk across campus wasn’t long and she found herself thinking about all the homework she had to do before class tomorrow. Hopefully, the phones would be quiet in the rectory tonight so she could get it finished early.

She was almost to the rectory and Danny’s house was just ahead. Putting her books down on the ground, she glanced around to make sure no one was watching before once again pulling her sweater up far enough to allow her to roll her skirt to two inches above her knees. Picking up her purse, she opened it and felt around inside for the barrettes Father Antonio had given her. She clipped them in her hair, on top of the bobbie pins that held the sides of her hair out of her face. Next she pulled out the tube of lipstick and a small mirror, and slicked it over her lips. The pale pink color was the newest style, and she smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

Mary Margaret realized she’d better hurry if she wanted to talk to Danny, so picked her belongings up and continued her walk.

She was in luck. Danny was in the front yard with the push mower, and he was wearing his tee shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His levis were cuffed at the bottom. He was so cute, and still wore his brown hair combed in a duck tail. Too bad he was a public schooler. Her parents would never let her date him even when she was a junior.

“Hi Danny,” she said when she got close enough for him to hear her. She stood as tall as she could with her back straight and her books clutched to her chest.

“Oh, hi Linda...I mean Mary.” He looked up briefly, then went right back to mowing.

Disappointed, and with cheeks burning bright red, Mary Margaret looked down at the ground and hurried the rest of the way to the rectory. She walked around to the back door, and finding it unlocked, let herself in.

Mrs. Hunter was in the kitchen, busily at work preparing dinner.

“I’m here,” Mary Margaret said, going straight for the front office.

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Hunter answered. “I’ll bring you a snack in a minute.

“Don’t bother, I’m not hungry.”

“How can you not be hungry when you’ve been at school all day?” Mrs. Hunter asked. “Never mind. You’ll be eating dinner, though. Everyone likes spaghetti and meatballs.”

Mary Margaret settled in and arranged her study materials on the desk. She opened her notebook and checked her homework assignment. Tonight she had English and psychology assignments. Both were subjects she enjoyed, so she was soon deeply engrossed in her work.

“I’m happy to see you like the little gift I gave you.” Father Antonio stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, casually leaning against the frame. He was smiling as if amused at something only he knew.

Mary Margaret felt her heart quicken at his voice. “Oh yes, I like them very much. They’re so pretty, but I don’t wear them to school. I’m afraid I would lose them or something or have to explain where I got them.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re wearing them now,” he said, his smile broadening. “I’d best go wash up for dinner. Mrs. Hunter should be serving soon.”

“She’s making spaghetti tonight, my favorite,” Mary Margaret volunteered, then blushed, embarrassed that she sounded like a child.

“It’s one of my favorites, too.”

Mary Margaret watched him turn and leave, then blew out a whoosh of air, realizing she’d almost been holding her breath the whole time they talked.

The telephone rang, distracting her momentarily. It was a prank call. Some bored kid wanted to know if the refrigerator was running and Mary Margaret hung up on him without even answering his silly question.