Bless Us Father (5 page)

“Yes, Mom. I’ll make sure I do an especially good job.”

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“Linda and her sisters are here for you, Mary Margaret. Don’t keep them waiting.”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Mary Margaret flung her bedroom door open and bounded down the stairs and out the door right past Mrs. Riley.

“Bye, Mom. Tell Dad bye when he comes in from the yard. I won’t be late.”

She followed Linda to the red Chevrolet Corvair station wagon and crawled in the back seat. Linda’s sisters, Susie and Katie were in the front and Katie was driving. They all looked alike and had long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and freckled noses. Katie was the oldest at seventeen, next came Susie who was sixteen, then fifteen year old Linda.

Linda’s sister, Susie, turned around. “Hi, Mary Margaret. Got a get out of jail free card tonight, did ya’?”

Smiling from ear to ear she said, “I sure did. I had to do a lot of scrubbing and cleaning to earn the money, but I made it. She gave me two dollars.”

“Are we going to see
The Hustler?
” Mary Margaret asked.

Katie and Susie looked at each other and giggled.

“That’s the one we’re going to see. Paul Newman is just too dreamy to miss,” Katie said. “It’s either that or
The Parent Trap.
I’d rather look at Paul Newman than Hayley Mills any day.”

“But Mom said we’re supposed to see
The Parent Trap
. She said she doesn’t want us to be influenced by the gambling in
The Hustler
,” Linda said, her brow furrowed.

“You’d better not tell her, either, or we’ll never take you and Mary Margaret anywhere again,” Susie warned. “And if she asks, you’d better lie.”

“But I’ll have to go to confession,” Linda said.

“Then go to confession, but make sure you don’t spill the beans.”

Linda shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. I won’t tell.”

They arrived at the theater and parked in the parking lot. A line was already forming at the ticket window, and they waited a few minutes to pay their fifty cents and get their movie ticket. Inside, they bought a large popcorn and a box of jujubes to share.

The movie was over all too soon for the four girls.

They linked arms as they walked back to the car.

“Is he just the dreamiest man ever?” Linda said, leaning close to Mary Margaret. “Those blue eyes make me want to forget that I’m a good Catholic school girl.”

“I heard that, Linda Gardener,” said Katie. “You better never forget you’re a good Catholic school girl.”

“You shut up, Katie. You’re not supposed to be listening in on my conversation.”

“Then don’t talk so loud, brat.” Katie opened the car door and got in on the driver’s side. “Just get in so we can go to McDonald’s. I’m starved.”

Mary Margaret listened to the exchange between the sisters, and wished for the umpteenth time that she had a big sister to fight with. Her house was pretty lonely at times.

The parking lot of McDonald’s was packed. They drove through several times before a space became available.

“Thanks be to God,” Katie said. “I’m so hungry I could eat four burgers.”

The girls got out and walked to the windows to order their food.

“That’s weird,” Linda said.

“What is?” Susie asked.

“I think that’s the new priest at the church. He’s sitting over there in his green car eating a burger. Don’t turn around and look right now. Try to be casual about it.”

“What’s weird about it?” Katie asked. “Priests like to eat out, too.”

“But on Saturday night at McDonald’s? Everyone knows this is a teenage hang out on Saturday evening. It’s like he’s spying on us to see what kinds of things we do when we’re out on the town,” Linda said.

One at a time, the girls took turns, swiveling around to look.

Mary Margaret was the last one to casually gaze in the direction of the car. And sure enough, there Father Antonio sat. Mary Margaret briefly raised her hand and waved at him.

“Why are you waving? Do you know him?” Katie asked. “He’s really boss.”

“I know him just to say hello,” Mary Margaret answered, remembering what he had told her earlier in the day. “My parents had him over for dinner last night, and I see him once in awhile at the rectory.”

“Oh my gosh! Father Antonio was over at your house? What did you talk about?” Susie had her arm linked through Mary Margaret’s. “Tell us everything.”

“We didn’t talk about anything. My parents did all the talking. I was just the maid.”

“Come on you guys, it’s our turn. Let’s get some food,” Katie said, forgetting about Father Antonio.

As Mary Margaret walked back to the car with her burger, fries and coke, she stole another glance at Father. He still sat in the car looking in her direction. She reminded herself to tell him about McDonalds being a teenage hangout. Being new in town, he must not have known that.

Flatterers look like friends as wolves like dogs.

-George Chapman-

CHAPTER FIVE

“Are you wearing those clothes to the rectory?”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes at her mother and put her hand on her hip. “I’m out of school today. What’s wrong with what I have on?”

“Attitude again, young lady,” Mary Margaret’s mother said, shaking a finger at her. “When I was your age, if I’d spoken to my mother like that she’d have given me the back of her hand.”

“Spoken to her like what? All I did was ask you what was wrong with what I’m wearing.”

“And where did you get those tight pants?” Mrs. Riley asked, glowering at her.

Looking down at her brand new light blue capris, Mary Margaret said, “I bought them with my money from my job at the rectory. And besides, everyone is wearing them.”

“Would you jump off a cliff if everyone else did?”

“Oh, Mom. It isn’t the same thing. These are the latest style.”

Mary Margaret noticed her mother was wearing the same style shirtwaist dress that she wore every day. Only the color changed. She always wore a strand of pearls, too. Just like June Cleaver.

“You know, Mom. It wouldn’t hurt you to put on a pair of slacks now and again. The fifties are over. It’s a new era. Besides, you have a great figure. Capris would look boss on you,” she said while she stepped closer to her mother and reached a tentative hand up to touch her hair. “You should try ratting your hair, too. Get rid of the pin curl look and poof it up a little bit. I could help you.”

Ellen reached up and took hold of Mary Margaret’s hand. “You’re growing up too fast. You’re turning into a young woman, right in front of my eyes.”

“We’re not talking about me, Mom,” she said, taking hold of her mother’s other hand and bringing them both together, clasping them in hers at waist level. “You’re so pretty, but you aren’t staying up with the times. Maybe we could go shopping together sometime.”

“That’s just vanity, and I’m not a vain woman.”

“Okay, Mom. Just a suggestion,” Mary Margaret said, disappointed that the brief moment of tenderness had passed. “We’ve got to get going. I don’t want to be late. What about my clothes?”

“Well, Mrs. Hunter is the only one that is going to be there tonight, so I guess you can wear those. Both of the priests are out for the evening.”

“I need to grab my homework,” Mary Margaret said, running to her bedroom.

Mrs. Riley was waiting in the car and had the motor running. “Do you have all of your school books?” she asked as Mary Margaret opened the car door and slid in.

“I do. I don’t really have much homework tonight, mostly reading for my English Literature class.”

“What are you assigned?”

“We’re reading
The Scarlett Letter
by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Our teacher, Miss Bixby, says it’s a romance, but I’m not sure about that. It seems more like a book about adultery and sin to me.”

“That’s the opinion I had when I read it, too. I don’t understand how they justify having Catholic school children read such trash.”

“I just started it, so maybe my opinion will change. Miss Bixby says it will.”

“Is she that new young teacher that just started this year?”

“Yeah. She’s really pretty cool. We all like her a lot.”

“Whatever happened to all the nuns?”

“I don’t know, Mom. I guess there aren’t as many nowadays. Anyway, we’re here. You don’t have to come in with me. Just drop me off.”

“Call me when you’re ready to be picked up, and don’t go outside the rectory until you see the car. Okay?”

“Okay, Mom. See you later.”

Mary Margaret waved goodbye to her mother and opened the back door to the rectory. It was quiet inside and she locked the door behind her, not sure that anyone else was there and not wanting it left open to the public.

“Mrs. Hunter?” she called out tentatively, then louder. “Mrs. Hunter--are you here?”

“I’m in the kitchen. Come on in.”

Mary Margaret walked into the kitchen and found Mrs. Hunter finishing up the last of her cleaning chores.

“I don’t need to cook anything tonight. The priests are out attending some community events. Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you. I ate at home. Mom said the priests were gone tonight so I knew you wouldn’t be cooking.”

“Well, then, I think I’ll go home and visit with my dear husband for awhile. There’s nothing for me to do here and it should be quiet tonight. Are you afraid to stay alone?”

“No. Remember, I’m an only child so I’ve had to stay alone at home many times. I’m not really afraid of anything.”

“Okay, dear. Just go ahead and leave at ten like you normally do, whether the priests are home or not. Keep the doors locked while you’re here and don’t open them to anyone.”

“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Hunter. Don’t worry.”

Once Mrs. Hunter had left, Mary Margaret checked to make sure the doors and windows were locked, then settled in a chair close to the phone and opened her book. An hour passed without the telephone ringing or someone knocking on the door to the rectory and she found herself nodding off.

Finding it difficult to stay awake, and deciding it wouldn’t hurt to take a little nap, Mary Margaret went on a search for a pillow and blanket. She found a pillow on one of the kitchen chairs, and a crocheted blanket stuffed on the top shelf of a closet in the hallway. She carried them back to the small office and settled herself onto the blue vinyl sofa. It wasn’t long until she was sleeping soundly.

Another hour passed, and she was awakened by the sound of a door opening and footsteps crossing the floor. Startled, she jumped to her feet, crumpling the crocheted throw behind her.

“Mary Margaret? Are you sleeping on the job?” Father Antonio stood in the doorway looking amused.

“Oh my gosh, Father. I’m so sorry. There wasn’t anyone here and the phone didn’t ring and I got sleepy doing my homework and I didn’t think it would hurt anything....”

He laughed out loud. “No harm done. There’s no one here but you and I, and I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I thought you were going to be out for the evening,” Mary Margaret said as she smoothed her hair back in place.

“Like I said, I’m not going to tell anyone that you were sleeping if you promise not to tell that I slipped out of the meeting and came home early. Besides, I’m glad to have you alone so we can talk about something. I’m in charge of the festival this year, and I would love you to be my special assistant. Do you think you could? You’ll be in charge of the youth activity booth.”

“Your assistant?” Mary Margaret asked, forgetting her concern at being caught sleeping. “Why?”

“Because you’re special, that’s why. And it isn’t anything too complicated. I’ll guide you every step of the way. What do you think?”

“I’d love to,” Mary Margaret said, feeling her face flush. She’d thought he hadn’t noticed her, and now he was telling her she’s special.

“Good. I’ll go get the folder that has the available game booths and we can choose one together. Be right back.”

Mary Margaret wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, trying to quell the growing excitement she felt. This was the first time anyone had ever thought she was important enough to be in charge of anything. She’d never even worked in the booths at the festival. Her parents hadn’t worked in them, either, despite Father O’Malley trying every year to get them to volunteer. Mom always bought forty dollars worth of raffle tickets and said that was enough of a donation.

Father Antonio returned with the folder and placed it on the desk. He’d changed into a black turtleneck sweater and jeans and didn’t look at all like a priest.

He pulled out the desk chair and motioned to Mary Margaret. “Sit down. I’ll get another one from the kitchen.”

She did as she was told and waited for him to return.

Along with the chair, he also had gotten a glass of red wine for himself and a frosty coke for Mary Margaret. He placed the kitchen chair right next to hers and sat down. Their shoulders were pressed together and she could feel his warmth wash over her.