Bless Us Father (23 page)

Both Father Antonio and Father O’Malley’s cars where parked behind the rectory when she arrived. Mrs. Hunter’s car was there as well. She hoped the priests were both either at the school or inside the church so she wouldn’t have to talk to them. Mrs. Hunter had actually been the one who hired her, so she was the one to tell that she was quitting.

Mary Margaret went into the kitchen and found Mrs. Hunter in her usual spot, hovering over the stove.

“Hi, Mrs. Hunter. How are you?”

“I’m just fine, dear, but why are you here? You don’t work tonight.”

“I need to tell you something.”

“And what is that, dear?”

Mary Margaret cleared her throat and looked Mrs. Hunter in the eye. “I’m resigning from my job effective next week. I hope that gives you enough time to find someone else.”

“Oh no. Is there some problem?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Hunter. I got a full time job at Whittwood Mall, working at the Broadway. I’m so excited. I get a discount to buy clothes and everything. And it’s full time. I get paid $1.30 an hour! I’m going to save up and buy a car. If my parents will let me get my license, that is. I just feel so bad about having to quit my job here. I don’t want to put you in a bad spot.”

“Oh my goodness. Sit down, Mary Margaret. Let’s have some chocolate cake and milk. You just don’t need to worry one little bit about leaving here. I know you need to move on. You’re growing up and will be going away to college soon. You need to broaden your horizons.”

Mary Margaret relaxed and enjoyed the cake and milk Mrs. Hunter served her.

Suddenly the back door to the rectory flew open and they heard footsteps stomping in.

“Antonio! Don’t you try to get away from me. I want to talk to you and talk to you I will. Stop!” Father O’Malley was shouting in anger.

“What do you want to talk to me about, Matthew? Are you upset again about how I’m running the youth group? Or is it how I budgeted and paid the bills all those months you were gone in Ireland?”

Mary Margaret and Mrs. Hunter looked at each other, eyes wide and questioning. They dared not speak.

“You are despicable,” Father O’Malley spat. “What you’ve been doing with these youngsters in our care is despicable. You will be answering to God, but right now you’d better answer to me. What were you thinking?”

Silence filled the air for a long moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Matthew. I believe you’ve gotten a bit senile since your fall and broken hip. Or is it due to all the Irish whiskey you consume?”

“There is nothing wrong with my mind, you upstart. I know about you. I know what went on in Boston, and I suspect something has been going on here, too. Admit it, will you?”

“Admit what? I don’t know what you mean?”

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. The little girls in the youth group that you’ve been touching. And the little girls that came to work here in the rectory. They’ve complained about you, too. And Mary Margaret...God only knows what you’ve done to her. She certainly won’t tell me.”

Mary Margaret looked away from Mrs. Hunter, who had fixed her with a questioning gaze.

“Mary Margaret will never tell you a thing. There’s nothing for her to tell,” Father Antonio said.

A loud thud caused Mary Margaret and Mrs. Hunter to jump.

“You are a coward and an evil man, Antonio. If I were older and stronger I’d beat you to a pulp.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job right now. Let go of my throat before you choke me to death.”

Quiet replaced the angry voices.

Finally, Father O’Malley spoke. “I’m going to make sure you’re transferred out of this parish, Antonio. The sooner the better. I’m contacting the Archdiocese tomorrow. And I know you’ve done something to our precious Mary Margaret, too. If I ever find out the truth, God help us both.”

Mary Margaret and Mrs. Hunter sat quietly until they heard two sets of footsteps go up the stairs to the priest’s rooms.

“Dear, do you want to talk a bit?” Mrs. Hunter asked, placing her hand over Mary Margaret’s.

Without answering, Mary Margaret jumped up and ran out of the room, down the back steps, and all the way home.

What a child doesn’t receive he can seldom later give.

-P.D. James-

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Mary Margaret was able to slip in the front door and go to her bedroom without either of her parents hearing her. She hoped they wouldn’t realize she was home for awhile. She needed some time alone. She closed her bedroom door, lay down on her bed, and looked around. Trying to keep herself from trembling or crying, she focused on all the details of her room.

Her bedroom belonged to a little girl, not a teenager. The walls were covered in pink flowered wallpaper and pink gingham checked curtains covered the one window. Her bed was white, twin-sized, with spindle posts. It was covered in a quilt that had been embroidered with flowers that matched the wallpaper. Her grandmother had made it for her when she was just five years old. That was the last time her room had been decorated. After that, whenever she asked, Mom always said there was no need to change a thing. Her grandmother-her father’s mother-had been loving and kind. She still missed her and she’d been dead for ten years.

She pulled the crocheted afghan her grandmother had also made over her, turned on her side facing the wall, and rolled up into a ball.

It felt like her whole world was crashing down on her. People were talking about her and Father Antonio. And Father O’Malley had been so angry at Father Antonio that Mary Margaret was afraid something terrible was going to happen.

Her reputation was ruined, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. She’d been really stupid to open up even a little bit to Jane and Becky. They’d gone and blabbed to the world.

Still, her mom would never believe any of it, and neither would Dad. So she would be safe with them. She laughed out loud at that. How safe had she ever felt with her mother? One minute she was decent and the next she was a raving maniac.

She also had to tell them about quitting the rectory and finding a new job at the Broadway. She hoped they would take it well. Her mom would probably be happy about the money. That way Mom wouldn’t have to give her money for anything.

Exhaustion flooded over her and she drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, a soft tapping at her door woke her. “Who is it?” she called out.

“It’s me,” her dad said softly. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, Daddy,” she said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Hi, baby girl. Your mom has been worried about you. We didn’t know you were home and it’s dinnertime.”

“I guess I fell asleep.”

Mary Margaret watched her dad walk over to the bed and sit down tentatively beside her. He was frowning and she noticed he looked tired and drawn.

“You haven’t been in here all day, have you?” he asked.

“No, I got back around three and came right to my room.”

She glanced at the clock on her dresser and noticed it was six-thirty, a half-an-hour after dinnertime. Then she looked at the open door and wondered how long it would be before her mom charged through it, upset because things were off schedule and dinner would be ruined.

“Don’t you think we should go to dinner before Mom finds us just sitting here?” she asked.

“In a minute,” he said, getting up and quietly closing the door. “I want to talk to you first. I’m very worried about you, Mary Margaret. You seem preoccupied lately. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Dad,” she answered, wishing she could tell him but knowing she could not. “I’m fine.”

“Then why are you hiding in your room so much of the time?”

She picked at the fringe on her afghan. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all,” she finally said.

“Like what? I’d really like to help.”

Maybe he could help her after all. “It’s just that I got tired of working at the rectory, and I went to the mall today and got another job. I’m afraid to tell mom. I’m sure she’ll be mad at me.”

“Is that all?” her dad asked.

Mary Margaret could see the relief wash over his face as he broke into a smile. If he knew what was bothering her the most, he wouldn’t be smiling.

“A job, huh? Where will you be working?”

“I’m so excited,” she said, sitting up straighter on the bed and leaning forward to tell him. “I got a job at the Broadway department store. It’s full-time for the summer and then it will be part-time during the school year. And the pay is great! It’s eighty-five cents an hour more than what I make at the rectory, and I get to buy clothes at a discount, too.”

“That’s wonderful, baby girl. I think it’s time you moved on from the rectory. It seems like an awfully boring place to work,” he said, reaching out and embracing her in a hug.

“But what will Mom think?” she asked.

“You leave Mom to me. We’ll announce it at dinner and she’ll just have to accept it.”

Mary Margaret nodded her agreement, not sure her mom would ever accept anything that wasn’t her own idea.

“Come on,” her dad said. “We’d better get to the kitchen before it gets much later or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

She got off the bed and followed her dad, hoping that Mom was in a better mood than she usually was.

Mom was slamming pots around on the stove when they entered the kitchen. Mary Margaret could tell her mom was in a really foul frame of mind. She didn’t turn around to look at them or acknowledge their presence, so they quietly took their places at the table.

Mary Margaret’s father was the first to speak.

“She was right here in the house all along, Ellen. She fell asleep on her bed. There was no reason to worry,” Mr. Riley said.

A chill ran up Mary Margaret’s spine as her mother turned around and fixed her with pursed lips and flashing eyes.

“And of course she didn’t bother to let us know she was home since she never thinks of anyone but herself,” Mrs. Riley said.

“I’m really sorry, Mom. I meant to come and tell you after I rested a bit, but I fell asleep.”

“Oh? And just what were you doing that you were so very tired?” Mrs. Riley asked. “It certainly wasn’t from helping me with house cleaning today, now was it?”

“I know and I’m so sorry. I’ll help you clean tomorrow. It’s just that I met my friend Twyla at the mall, and we...”

Mary Margaret noticed her dad put a finger to his lips, hushing her.

“I’m hungry, Mom. Can we eat?”

Mrs. Riley brought the traditional Saturday meal of meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans to the table. She poured milk for each of them and they ate dinner in silence.

When they were all finished, Mary Margaret stood and cleared the table. She put the leftovers into Pyrex dishes and covered them with the little covers that looked like shower caps, then put them in the refrigerator. She filled the sink with hot, soapy water and put the dishes in to soak. Behind her, she heard her father clear his throat.

“Ellen, Mary Margaret has some good news for us,” he said. “Would you like to tell your mother, or do you want me to?”

“You tell her while I finish the dishes,” Mary Margaret answered.

“It seems our Mary Margaret has gone out and gotten herself a job,” Mr. Riley said. “A full-time job for the summer, then it will be part-time during the school year. I’m quite proud of her.”

Mary Margaret held her breath, waiting for her mother’s reply.

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Riley asked. “She already has a job. An important job at the rectory.”

“Now, Ellen. She’s worked there long enough. I’d be bored out of my skull if I had to sit in that front office every night answering the telephones.”

“It doesn’t matter. She made a commitment and she’s bound to stick with it.”

Mary Margaret couldn’t hold back. “But Mom, I already talked to Mrs. Hunter and she’s fine with me leaving. She said she won’t have a problem finding someone to take my place.”

“What about Father Antonio? Aren’t you his
special
assistant
?” Mrs. Riley asked.

Mary Margaret turned back to the sink, rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dish drainer. She didn’t want to answer her mother until she was sure her voice wouldn’t quaver when she spoke.

“Now Ellen, that’s enough. Mary Margaret has a job at the Broadway in Whittier and that’s all there is to it. When do you start?” Mr. Riley asked.

Mary Margaret breathed a sigh of relief, then said, “In a week. School gets out next Thursday and then I start orientation the following Monday.”

“Sounds just about perfect to me,” Mr. Riley said. “And I imagine you can walk to the mall so that will relieve your mother from driving you.”

She was just about to answer when she heard her mother stand up from the table and start walking towards her.

“I haven’t given my permission yet. I’ll not be embarrassed by her insulting Mrs. Hunter and Father Antonio by not following up on her commitment.”