Bless Us Father (4 page)

Crushed, she stood in the doorway and watched her parents lead Father Antonio to the wing backed chair her dad usually sat in, then settle themselves on the sofa.

“May I get you a drink, Father?” Mr. Riley asked.

“A cup of black coffee would be nice,” Father Antonio answered.

“No whiskey?” Mr. Riley asked, smiling.

“I’m not a whiskey drinker, Sean. I like a glass of wine with dinner, but that’s my only indulgence.”

“Don’t just stand there, Mary Margaret. Get Father Antonio a cup of coffee from the kitchen,” Mrs. Riley said.

Mary Margaret turned, her cheeks burning. Why hadn’t he noticed her? He was always so nice at the rectory. She’d taken pains with her appearance, and he’d barely glanced at her.

She checked the percolator coffee pot to make sure it was plugged in and the coffee was hot, and poured out a tiny bit in a cup to taste. She didn’t especially like coffee, but she could tell if it was fresh or had been sitting around for hours. Satisfied, she poured a cup, placed it on a saucer and carried it to the living room.

“Here you are, Father. Just black, right?”

“That’s right, Mary Margaret. Thank you for remembering.”

She watched as he turned back to her father and continued the conversation they’d been having. She stood there a moment, then felt strangely out of place in her own living room, so went back to the kitchen. Her mother followed shortly behind her.

“Good. You’re right where I need you. Let’s get dinner dished up and on the table. I’m sure the men are hungry.”

They worked quietly together, filling platters and bowls with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn and homemade dinner rolls fresh from the oven.

“Father Antonio, Sean, dinner is on the table,” Mrs. Riley said.

The four seated themselves in the dining room.

“Will you please say Grace, Father?” Mrs. Riley asked.

“I’d be delighted, Mrs. Riley.”

They bowed their heads and listened to Father’s prayer, crossing themselves in unison at the Amen.

Mr. Riley poured a glass of wine and handed it to Father Antonio. “I hope you enjoy this California wine, Father. We’ve been saving it for just such and occasion.”

Father held the glass up and looked at the contents. “Beautiful, clear color. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”

He swirled the wine in the glass, then put his nose over the rim and inhaled deeply. “Lovely berry aroma.”

Taking a small sip, he swished it around his mouth, swallowed, then took a bigger drink. “Delightful, Sean, just delightful.”

Mr. and Mrs. Riley exchanged glances.

“It’s a good thing we saved that bottle until we had a guest that appreciates good wine, isn’t it Ellen?” Mr. Riley said, pouring a glass for himself and his wife.

Ellen Riley gave him an ‘I told you so’
look and picked up the platter of chicken.

Father Antonio took a chicken breast and a thigh from platter Mrs. Riley offered him. “This looks wonderful. I can’t wait to taste it.”

Once their plates were filled and they’d begun eating, the adults resumed their polite conversation. Mary Margaret barely heard what was being said. She didn’t understand why she was even here. No one was paying any attention to her. Her mom was smiling nonstop at Father, and was more animated than Mary Margaret had seen her be in years. Her dad simply looked amused.

“May I ask you about your native country, Father? When did you come to the United States?” Mrs. Riley asked, leaning closer to Father Antonio, her cheeks flushed with color from the wine.

“Of course you may ask, Ellen. I came to North America in 1950, during the terrible violence that was occurring in my country. I was just seventeen years old and preparing to enter the seminary.”

“Oh my goodness, that must have been difficult for you,” Mrs. Riley said, her hand clutched at her throat.

“Yes, it was hard to leave my family, but my aunt and uncle had immigrated to America some years before and offered me an opportunity I couldn’t turn down.”

“Have you gone back to Colombia to visit?” Mr. Riley asked, refilling the wine glasses.

“I go back at least once a year to see my family. That’s about all I have time for right now.”

The first bottle of wine was drained quickly as they talked.

“We served the best wine first, Father. Just like in the Bible. Now we’ll go with the everyday stuff,” Mr. Riley said as he got up and went to the kitchen.

“That’s fine with me, Sean. I wish I could turn water into wine like Jesus did at the feast of Cana, but I’m afraid I don’t have that ability.”

“Is Mary Margaret doing a good job for you at the rectory?” Mrs. Riley asked.

Father glanced briefly over at Mary Margaret before answering.

“I’m afraid I don’t see much of her, but Mrs. Hunter tells me she’s a devoted, hard worker both on the job and with her school assignments as well.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Mrs. Riley said. “I was afraid she might be too young and immature for the job.”

Mary Margaret felt her face flame with embarrassment.

For the first time all evening, Father Antonio looked Mary Margaret in the eye. “Oh, no. She’s quite the young lady.”

“Well, I’ve yet to see it. As far as I’m concerned, she’s got a lot of growing up to do.”

Mr. Riley returned with the wine, and refilled their glasses. “Mary Margaret? Would you like a sip of wine?” he asked, handing a glass to her.

Mrs. Riley took it from his hand. “You will not give her wine, Sean Riley. She’s just a child.”

Chastened, he sat back in his chair. “In Italy and France the older children drink wine, and in Germany they drink beer.”

“And that has nothing to do with us. We are in the United States and here children don’t drink alcohol.”

Father Antonio smiled sympathetically at Mary Margaret. “You’ll be all grown up and experiencing adult life before you know it. Better not to rush things now. Don’t you think?”

Mary Margaret nodded, staring down at her plate and pushing the remaining food around with her fork. Her appetite was gone, but she knew she’d better finish it anyway. There are starving children in China, her mother always said, so it’s a sin to waste food you’ve dished up on your plate.

Tomorrow she was going to go to confession with Father O’Malley and confess her sins. She wouldn’t tell him who it was she’d had impure thoughts about, but she was going to confess and get it off of her chest. Then again, the sin wasn’t a big one. All she’d wanted was to try and get the attention of someone of the opposite sex. So what if it was an older man and that he was a priest? Danny Ellis didn’t even know her name for sure. Maybe she’d better talk it over with Linda. No...she’d known it was wrong to try to get Father Antonio to notice her and she’d done it anyway. Better to confess and wipe the slate clean. She’d go see Father O’Malley first thing Saturday morning. He’d know how to make her feel better.

Those in possession of absolute power can not only prophesy and make their prophesies come true, but they can also lie and make their lies come true.

-Eric Hoffer-

CHAPTER FOUR

Mary Margaret knelt in the dark confessional and waited for the door to open over the tiny screened window. When it did, she caught the scent of whiskey and relaxed immediately. It was Father O’Malley on the other side, and not Father Antonio.

“Bless me Father for I have sinned. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was one month ago.”

“Go ahead, child. What grievous sin have you committed in this past month?”

“Well, Father, I’ve been disobedient. My mother doesn’t allow me to wear makeup, and I’ve been using lipstick.”

“And why have you disobeyed your mother?”

Taking a deep breath before speaking, she said, “I’ve been trying to attract the attention of a man.”

“A man? Don’t you mean a boy?”

“No, Father. I mean a man.”

“And just what did you intend to do when you got this man’s attention?”

“I...don’t know.”

“And just who is this man? Is he the father of one of your friends?”

Mary Margaret crossed herself quickly before answering. “Yes...he’s a Father.”

“All right, child. You are entering into years that are confusing and dangerous for a young girl. Do not engage in this kind of sinful behavior again. There are unscrupulous people out there that will take advantage of your innocence. Do you understand?” Father O’Malley asked. “Do you promise not to do this again?”

“Yes, Father. I understand and I promise. I’m truly sorrowful for my behavior.”

“Say three Hail Marys and one Our Father as your penance. Now let me hear your Act of Contrition.”

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen.”

Mary Margaret left the church feeling a huge load had been lifted from her shoulders.

She saw Father Antonio get out of his recently purchased green 1960 Ford Falcon and walk towards the rectory. He was wearing a blue-checked short sleeved shirt, slacks, and saddle shoes. His dark hair was a bit mussed and he ran his fingers through to comb it.

He hadn’t looked in her direction, so she turned her head away and hurried through the parking lot and out to the sidewalk towards home.

Her mother was waiting for her to help with the weekly housekeeping chores and would have a cow if she dawdled.

Mom was actually going to let her go to the movies and for a burger at McDonald’s afterwards with Linda and her older sisters. She’d better not blow it or Mom wouldn’t give her money to go, and she’d spent all her rectory money on her new skirt and sweater.

She’d only walked half a block and was startled when she heard a car horn behind her. Turning, she was astonished to see Father Antonio motioning her over to the car.

“Hello, Father. Do you need something?” she asked, leaning in the open passenger side window.

“I was just getting back to the rectory and saw you hurrying off across the parking lot. I thought you might like a ride home.”

“I’m almost home, Father. Just a few more blocks.”

He slid across the front seat of his Ford and opened the passenger door, patted the seat, and slid back over to the driver’s side. “Get in. I’ll drive you.”

She’d always been told to do exactly what the priests and nuns told her, so she climbed in the car and closed the door behind her.

“Frankly, Mary Margaret, I’ve been hoping to see you. I’ve felt bad since dinner at your home last night.”

“Oh my gosh, Mom’s cooking didn’t make you sick, did it?”

Father Antonio laughed out loud. “No, no, I’m not sick.”

“What is it then?”

He braked at a stop sign and looked all ways before proceeding across the intersection.

“I wanted to explain why I didn’t talk to you much last night. I realize we’ve chatted at the rectory, but I didn’t want your parents to know we knew each other that well.”

“Why?” Mary Margaret asked.

“This is difficult for you to understand, I know, but some people might get the wrong idea if we’re too friendly with each other. So it’s better not to show that in public.”

“Why would anyone get the wrong idea?”

“That’s a good question; I’m not sure why they would other than the fact that you’re a very pretty girl.” He smiled broadly at her. “But it’s happened to me before, so I know. We’ll just have to be polite with each other when we’re around others. Is that okay with you?”

“I...guess,” Mary Margaret agreed. “Here’s my house.”

He pulled the car to the curb and waited for her to open the door. “Are you doing something fun this weekend?”

“I’m going out with my friend, Linda and her older sisters tonight. We’re going to a movie and then to McDonald’s for a hamburger.”

Smiling, he asked, “See you Monday at the rectory?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Thanks for the ride.”

He sped off as soon as the door closed.

Mary Margaret ran up the steps to the front door, still puzzling on why Father was concerned about what people might think.

“I’m home, Mom. What do you want me to do first?”

Her mother appeared wearing an apron over her gray print housedress and holding a feather duster in her hand.

“You got here none too soon, young lady. It’s a good thing you were at church, or I’d be very upset.”

“Well I’m here now, where do you want me to start?”

“Watch the attitude, young lady. Go clean the bathroom and then empty all the trash containers in the house. Once you’ve done that I want the kitchen floor swept and mopped. And there better not be a speck of dust left behind, or you’ll get left behind tonight.”