Bless Us Father (6 page)

“Okay, here are the different booths,” he said, opening the folder to a dog eared page. “There’s the ring toss, the coin toss, bean bag toss, dunk tank, and the goldfish toss. Do any of those appeal to you?”

Mary Margaret was finding it hard to concentrate on the page. Their arms were touching and she could feel the warmth radiate from his body to hers. She’d never been this close to a man before, except for her father who smelled like Old Spice. Father Antonio had a completely different scent. She finally decided it was an earthy smell. Sort of musty, but not at all unpleasant.

“Mary Margaret? Do you have an opinion?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was sort of daydreaming I guess. The dunk tank is fun, but the grade school usually does that.”

“And that’s why you’re my assistant. I knew you’d be a big help,” he said, writing a note next to the dunk tank description.

Mary Margaret moved slightly away from Father Antonio, but felt him press closer to her, making it hard for her to think. Finally she said, “Um, I always liked the goldfish booth, but with some of the older boys that might not be a good idea. They get a little mean and play tricks on people with the fish, like putting them in someone’s drink.”

“All that adolescent energy gets those guys into trouble, doesn’t it?” Father asked. “Not like my girls. You’re always so much easier to work with.”

“Yeah, I guess we are. More mature maybe.”

“Okay, well we’re narrowing it down. We’ll look for adult volunteers for the goldfish.”

“Let’s do the ring toss booth. Not much can go wrong there,” Mary Margaret said. “There’s nothing breakable and the prizes are stuffed animals.”

Father Antonio nudged her a little with his shoulder. “You’ve got good ideas. I’m not going to have to supervise too closely, I see.”

His compliment embarrassed her and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks and knew she was blushing again.

“You’re face is red,” Father Antonio said. “Do you have a fever?”

“No,” she said in a whisper.

He placed his palm on her cheek. Very softly, then placed his other palm on the other cheek. He took his hand, tilted her chin up and moved closer to her. He moved his left hand around to the back of her neck, underneath her hair, and slid his right hand gently down her neck.

She held her breath. Her skin was tingling at his touch and she was trembling slightly. She’d never experienced a sensation like this and didn’t understand what was happening to her.

“Nope, no fever. Maybe you were out in the sun too much today,” he said, taking both hands away and pushing back from the desk.

He looked at his watch. “It’s quitting time, Mary Margaret. Your mother will be pulling up and honking the horn any minute. Better gather your things.”

“Oh...okay,” she said, struggling to bring herself back to the present. “What shall I do next?”

“What do you mean?”

“About the carnival. Now that I’ve decided on the booth, I mean. What’s the next step?”

“I forgot about the festival for a minute there. Well, figure out how many people you’ll need to staff the booth for the whole weekend, then start asking your friends at school to work.”

“I’ve only got girls at school. What about getting some of the boys to work, too?”

Father Antonio pursed his lips. “I guess you’re right. The youth of the Church include the boys. I’ll get some names from Father O’Malley.”

“Will you give them to me to call? I mean since I’m doing the schedule, and all.”

Father Antonio was frowning now. “No, I’ll gather the names and then when I see what spaces need to be filled, I’ll call them.”

“But you’re going to be busy with other things. I know most of the high school age boys that go to church here. Most of them went to grade school. Wouldn’t it help you if I did the telephoning?”

“No, it won’t help me,” he snapped at her. “You don’t need to be concerned with that little duty.”

Tears filled her eyes and she tried to look away before he noticed.

“Oh no, I’ve grouched at you and hurt your feelings, haven’t I?” he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her. “Sometimes I do that without thinking. I’m sorry.”

He hugged her tightly to him, and didn’t release her until he heard the rectory door open.

“Antonio? Where are you? I had to get a ride home. Why did you sneak out of the meeting?” Father O’Malley’s voice called out.

Father Antonio walked quickly to the office door. “I’m in here, Matthew. I was just telling Mary Margaret it’s time for her to go home. Did you see her mother out there?”

Father O’Malley entered the office. “Is something wrong, dear? You look like you’ve been crying?”

“No, Father. Nothing’s wrong. My allergies are bad today, that’s all.”

“Well, then you scoot on home. Your mother is waiting outside.”

Mary Margaret quickly picked up her books and purse, and squeezed past Father Antonio who was still standing in the doorway. She could hear Father O’Malley as she walked down the hall.

“That’s odd, Antonio. I’ve never known Mary Margaret to be sick a day in her life. I certainly didn’t know she had allergies. Are you sure she wasn’t crying?”

“I can’t be certain. I only just went into the office to tell her it was time for her to go. She was sniffling when I got there. That’s all I know.”

“Let’s both say a prayer tonight that she hasn’t gotten started with some boy. That would explain tears.”

“Yes, let’s. She’s much too young and innocent to start getting involved with teenage boys.”

Few things can help an individual more than to place responsibility on him, and to let him know that you trust him.

-Booker T. Washington-

CHAPTER SIX

“Linda, I have you down to work four hours on Saturday. Is that right?” Mary Margaret noted the hours on the schedule she had on her clipboard. “What about your sisters? Are they gonna work?”

“I’m not sure. They both said it wasn’t cool to work at the festival since they’re in the upper grades at school. On the other hand, they did say they’d work if there was a chance Father Antonio would be in the booth at the same time.”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. “And why is that?”

“Oh, for gosh sakes. You know he’s really handsome and all the girls have major crushes on him.”

“That’s just so wrong. He’s a priest.”

Linda looked at the ground. “That’s easy for you to say since you see him all the time at the rectory and know what he’s really like.”

“Oh, but I don’t see him that much. Just once in awhile for a minute or two. I don’t know him at all,” Mary Margaret said, keeping her eyes on the clipboard.

“Then how did you get the job of being in charge of the youth activities at the festival?” Linda asked. “You’ve never been involved in any church activities before and your parents wouldn’t even let you spend much time at the festival. What’s changed?”

“Because Father thought I was ready for more responsibility. I’ve been doing a good job at the rectory.”

“You know, Mary Margaret, I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Mary Margaret studied her nails. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh look, there’s Diane and Sandy. I’ll bet they’ll jump at the chance to work. I’m going to go sign them up. See you later.”

Mary Margaret ran across the quad area of the campus towards the two girls. She turned back briefly and saw Linda still standing where she’d left her, watching her intently. Mary Margaret felt a shiver of guilt start at the top of her head and move slowly down her body. She and Linda had shared everything since they’d met when they were just little girls. She really should tell Linda how she felt when she was around Father Antonio, but she was sure Linda wouldn’t understand.

It was so sinful, the feelings she had about Father. As soon as he came near her, her body went on high alert. Every sense awakened and was tuned into him. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, she hung on his every word, and the musty smell that emanated from his body was disturbingly exciting. And when he touched her, her skin tingled. Something told her in the back of her brain that if she kissed him, he would taste salty-sweet. It was disgusting. She’d never felt this way about any boy--even Danny Ellis. She couldn’t ever tell anyone about these thoughts. She couldn’t tell them in confession, either. Father O’Malley would guess and then she’d be in really big trouble. She couldn’t tell him in confession because she hadn’t done anything wrong. Sure she had all these weird feelings, but she still hadn’t done anything wrong.

And she knew for sure she couldn’t mention any of this to Father Antonio. He would lose the respect he had for her and would see her as a silly little girl with weird ideas. Hadn’t he said someone had misunderstood his attentions in the past?

“Hi Diane, Sandy. I’m in charge of organizing the work schedule for the youth group booth during the October festival. Do you want to work in the booth over the weekend?”

“Hi, Mary Margaret. That’s pretty neat that you get to do this. How’d that happen?” Diane asked.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s because I work in the rectory,” she said, not wanting to explain about Father Antonio. “What about it? Can you work on Sunday? Friday night and Saturday are pretty much filled up.”

They glanced at each other before Sandy answered. “I guess we’ll do a couple of hours on Sunday then.”

“Shall I put you down for right after Mass?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Diane said. “Is that okay with you, Sandy?”

“Sure. My family is planning on going to the festival after Mass anyway.”

Mary Margaret jotted their names down on the paper just as the bell rang signaling lunch period was over. “Thanks, guys. I’ll see you on Sunday then.”

She walked slowly to her next class, surveying her chart for the festival. All the squares were filled in and it had only taken two days to find enough people to work. She felt proud of herself for being so responsible, and stood straighter as she walked the rest of the way back to her classroom.

#

“Mom, I’m home,” Mary Margaret called out as she opened the back door. “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

“I’ll be down in a minute. I’m just finishing the upstairs dusting. Put on some water for tea.”

Pleased that her mother was apparently in a good mood, Mary Margaret hurried to get the tea ready. She put the kettle on the stove, got the pretty china teacups out of the cupboard and place them on the table, then arranged a few homemade oatmeal raisin cookies on a plate. She was just pouring the boiling water into a china teapot with red roses painted on it when her mother entered the room.

“Goodness, this looks lovely. I’m in need of a break, too,” Mrs. Riley said as she pulled out a chair. “Now you can tell me about your day.”

Mary Margaret sat across from her mother and poured each of them a cup of tea. “I told you Father assigned me to be in charge of the youth game booth at the festival, right?”

“I guess you mentioned it.”

“Maybe I didn’t tell you enough of the details. I’m responsible for managing the booth the entire weekend of the festival.”

“You? How did Father O’Malley decide on you?”

“Oh, it wasn’t Father O’Malley. It was Father Antonio.”

Mrs. Riley stifled a laugh. “I should have guessed. He’s new to the parish and doesn’t know yet how irresponsible you are and how much you dawdle.”

Mary Margaret felt her face grow hot, and she looked down at the teacup in shame.

This time was going to be different, though. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look her mother in the eye.

“Father Antonio asked me to do this because he thinks I’m responsible, efficient and reliable. He also says I’m special. I guess he thinks I’ve been doing a really good job at the rectory.”

“Oh he does, does he? Well if that’s what he thinks of you, then don’t embarrass the family. I certainly hope you do the best job you possibly can.”

“I will, Mom. I already have. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’ve already got people assigned for all of the shifts, and I’ve got a waiting list of girls that want to work but I don’t need them just yet. Father Antonio said he’s going to find some boys to work, too, since it’s supposed to be all the youth of the parish.”

“Good. You’re taking this seriously, I see.”

“I am. I don’t want to let Father Antonio down. He has so much confidence in me I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Mrs. Riley said, patting Mary Margaret’s hand. “I still see you as my little girl, I suppose.”

“Thanks, Mom. I won’t let you and Dad, down, either. I promise.”

“You are really a good girl. I don’t tell you that often enough, I know. You’ve never given me trouble like so many children do--except for occasional smart mouth, that is. It’s just that I’ve worried so much over the years that something could go wrong and you would stray from the path we’ve guided you along.”