Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (25 page)

His sixth sense had never failed him, and yet here he was, willingly driving to a woman’s home—the very same that Fr. Kirkpatrick had warned him about. A woman that had caused him to have two wet dreams, much to his dismay and a woman who he’d pictured in ways that he knew for a fact were inappropriate. Fr. Kirkpatrick had urged him to keep his distance from the temptress and, though he’d denied she was anything like that—indeed she was. No need to mince words. A temptress is someone who tempts you to do something out of the ordinary, someone who entices you. Whether they mean to or not is irrelevant. Nevertheless, it wasn’t her fault. She was cursed with good looks, a beautiful face and body, and natural bohemian charm. She spoke the truth when it was needed most. She was his muse, and he chased her, even in his dreams.

Temptation resistance is the truest test of character, they say. I don’t know about that.

He craved the scent of her silky, smooth skin and wanted to hear her laugh, speak...that voice. She entertained him by her mere presence, helped him see the world in an entirely different way. At this point, he simply asked for understanding—asked the Lord to help reveal to him each step he should take.

He stood behind her, fighting the urge to kiss the back of her exposed neck. Her tightly coiled hair was partially braided in a beautiful updo, and it smelled of honey, cinnamon and vanilla.

What type of shampoo does she use?

“Dane?” she called out, seeming to struggle to turn around as his arm blocked her pass. He looked down at his hand over hers, and dug his nose deeper into her tresses until she called his name again. Falling out of his own thoughts as if he were cast from the sky, hurled back down toward Earth, he blinked and looked around, for a brief moment, forgetting where he was. Her shoulder blade pushed into the pit of his arm as she continued to strain against him, to turn in the circle of his physical blockade. Her lips parted, glistening with what appeared to be freshly applied russet lipstick. When she smiled, they framed her teeth, making the already white beam appear even brighter. He could smell her sweet breath as she repeated his name…

Fresh mint and celery...

“Dane...” she repeated, for now the third time.

“Hmmm?”

“You are in another world,” she said, shaking her head. “You have me so boxed in here, I can’t...” her voice trailed at the end.

“Oh,” he immediately took a step back, “my apologies. I was just coming over to help.” The pitter patter of rain started against the windows. The drops tap danced along the sides of the house, creating an orchestra concert just for the two of them.

He exhaled and watched as she squirmed away, down to the other end of the table, removing her apron and placing it on a nearby chair.

“Everything looks beautiful.” He rubbed his hands together anxiously.

“Thank you, have a seat,” she offered without looking his way.

He stood there, a bit longer and took notice of the long, wall length chocolate curtains on the emporium windows. The modest, delightful house had trey ceilings. Well built, with no detail left unnoticed in the great craftsmanship, as well as her eclectic, avant-garde tastes. Each item told him a bit more about her. One wall was a bluish gray, while the others, much more vibrant. A deep, muted orange, the walls complimented the beige area rug with pale tangerine swirls. In the center of the dining table was a simple yet elegant plant in a sterling silver bowl. His eyes roamed back to her. He walked to her and their bodies brushed against one another. Her hand teetered and shook as she poured a glass of iced water.

“Ahhh,” she gasped, her voice deep and throaty as a playful smile took over her beautiful face once more. “What are you doing?”

“Pulling out your chair.” He gripped the back of the chair beside her with both hands and quickly scooted it back, waiting for her to take her seat.

“Thank you.” She sat down slowly, but not before he noticed her dark shirt with a floury handprint over her left breast. He smirked and made his way back to the opposite side of the room, taking a seat.

“Well, you look really nice,” she offered as she took a sip of her water.

“Thank you, so do you.” He gripped his glass, raised it in a toast, then took a sip and placed it back down.

“Did you have any problems finding me?”

Yes, but not in the way you mean... now that I’ve rediscovered you, everything is fine.

“No, it was a piece of cake. Thanks...” He bent his head down and clasped his hands to say a prayer. “Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this dinner that you’ve given me and my...friend, Rhapsody. Thank you for using her hands and culinary skills to make such a wonderful feast for the sustenance of our bodies and minds. May we enjoy this fellowship. Amen.”

Without a glance in her direction, he picked up his fork and pierced the crisp lettuce that she’d placed in a small, wooden salad bowl before him.

“Amen,” she said softly, drawing his focus to her. He zoomed in on her lips, then her eyes. Oh how they sparkled and gleamed, even in the dimly lit room. The place was romantic, all on it’s on. Food aromas floated about, mixed in with a natural earthy scent and a certain sweetness, reminiscent of nutmeg.

Oh yes, that reminds me...

“Rhapsody, I have a really silly question to ask you.”

“The perfect kind!” She laughed as she stabbed her salad with her fork, looking up at him every so often between tight chews.

“What type of shampoo do you use? When I’m close to you, I can smell it, it’s really nice.”

“Why? You wanna use it?” She smirked.

“Maybe.”

I’d like to wash your hair for you, Rhapsody...run my fingers through it...

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“I use raw honey with a dash of cinnamon and a drop of vanilla extract.”

He took a big bite of his salad, rolled around a cherry tomato and nodded with a sly grin.

“That’s amazing, well, your hair looks beautiful and smells delicious...I could almost eat it up.”

She laughed and moved her fork faster through the roughage, as if trying to find her own tomato buried beneath the arugula leaves. He wasn’t positive, but if he were a betting man, he’d put money down on this little observation: the woman appeared to be blushing.

The meal continued with small talk about the day’s events, even a bit of pop culture to soften edges of uncertainty. All the while—exchanging glances, peeks, and many unsaid words until finally, they spoke at the exact same time, their words tumbling over one another’s, which caused them both to erupt in laughter.

“Okay, you go first,” Dane offered as he began to slice into his tender steak, exposing a perfectly cooked medium well sliver.

“No, you go.”

She took a small bite from her dinner roll. He watched her work the soft bread in her mouth, fascinated.

“Okay. I just want to tell you that I’m not going to play games with you. I meant what I said the night I came to hear you play.”

“Yes.” She lifted her glass of water to her lips. “We hadn’t discussed that night in depth since it happened. But, the way you left it,” she cocked her head to the side, smiled and placed the glass back down before folding her hands together, “I figured you were the wrong person to second guess.”

They shared a brief silence. He mulled over his words briefly before he continued.

“I want…” He paused, looked at her seriously and placed his fork quietly down next to his plate. “I want to know everything about you. I want to know the things, I should’ve known had I not been such a bonehead in high school...and...”

He watched her eyes widen as she sank back into her chair. He had trouble gauging her reaction, yet, his best grasp on the situation was that she was surprised at his revelation.

“I should have said something to you back then. That way, I wouldn’t be playing catch up now,” he further explained. “Anyway,” he wiped the side of his mouth with his ivory napkin and drummed his fingers on the table, “the food is delicious. Thank you.” He looked at her, and she still wore that strange expression. “You are looking at me like...”

“Well, I’m just surprised to hear that is all.”

“Hear what?”

He knew what; he just wanted to hear her say it...

She shrugged, looked down at her dinner and moved the food around on her plate as if she were trying to corral it into one lump sum. “Hear you admitting you wanted to talk to me in high school.”

“Why wouldn’t I? We were kids then, I’m a man now. I can own up to it.”

She placed her fork down and looked at him. The right corner of her mouth lifted slightly...possibly a smile.

A brief silence ensued.

“Okay,” she picked up her fork again, and showed incredible interest in the meat on her plate. “You’ve said quite a few things lately and I haven’t really addressed them.”

“Yes, and we need to talk about them, but before you do,” he took another swallow of his water, “I want you to feel comfortable talking to me, calling me. I feel that so many times, we both want...”

“To say more...” they said in unison, laughing at the irony once again.

“Yeah, to say more.” He nodded seriously as he stared at her from across the table. She seemed so far away, he wanted nothing more than to lessen the distance between them.

“You’ve given me courage to tackle some issues I’ve been wrestling with.”

That admission clearly piqued her interest as her eyes expanded and she stopped playing with her food.

“I know Josh’s death was hard. I’m glad that I was able to help you cope a bit better.”

“No, not just that.”

She folded her hands on the table, graceful hands...
pianist hands
with long fingers. Sitting straight, she assumed a near regal appearance.

“Look.” He sighed, running his hand over his face as he sat back in his seat. “I was struggling with some things right before Josh’s death, Rhapsody. I found it cruel, how everything came to be, like I was being given some test I could never pass. I feel like you are supposed to know this, and I pray to God that what I’m about to say, doesn’t scare you away, or make you hold back.” He paused and gauged her, but she remained calm and seemingly at peace with his declaration.

“I...I have never once questioned being a priest. I believe that I was called to do this, as I told you, but...I also believe that I was running from some things. I’m almost afraid to tell you, Rhapsody...no one but Josh knew.”

“No,” she said curtly, shaking her head, her eyes closed as if she were trying to stop a storm from rolling through with a mere hush from her mouth.

“No, what?”

“If you are going to tell me something that you will regret telling me later, then don’t tell me. Don’t force it. You’ll know when the time is right.” She smiled at him, a warm, sympathetic smile laced with a diluted but protective warning. “I don’t want you to have any regrets with me, Dane. Those are the rules.” She swallowed and looked at him sternly. “I refuse to be anything you wish
hadn’t
happened.”

He could sense the claws around her heart sinking deeper, reflected in the words. Her spirit spoke to him, stepping ahead of her as her lawyer and representative and announcing over the sky airwaves to expect a turbulent conversation. Yes, it was a rough conversation, despite the smiles and admissions. This was all cards on the table time, and she fought him, completely taking him off guard. Regardless, her reasoning was genuine and lest he admit, it made sense.

“Up until this point, we’ve been honest with one another, but safe.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Nothing has happened that you will have to…say Hail Mary’s for.” She laughed, but she was obviously not tickled.

“Don’t tell me anything, Dane.” She pointed at him, her finger far away, but the look on her face made him believe it would push into his forehead at any moment. “Nothing that you will later think, ‘Damn! why did I say that?’ I don’t want it, I don’t need it, and you don’t, either.” She picked up her fork and drove it through the meat as if the steak were butter. He watched her chew, then reach for her glass, taking a confident gulp.

“Okay. But, this isn’t over. Eventually, you will have to let it happen.” He placed his napkin across his lap. “But you want to stay in the ‘safe zone’”, he said, putting his fingers up like quotation marks. He’d already had time to think about this, and though the memories were upsetting, he wanted to go into this right. Nevertheless, she wasn’t ready, and he couldn’t force it. Timing truly was everything.

“Safe zone?” She smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, ‘safe zone’. You don’t want me to make this more complicated than this already is.”

“Are you a murderer?” she asked.

“No.”

“Did you molest some children?”

“What in the world? No.”

“What about grown women...or grown men?” He detected the attitude in her tone, mixed with a bit of sarcasm.

“Of course not.”

“Then I don’t need to know...pass the pepper.”

“You are something else, Ms. Thomason…pardon me, Ms. Blue.” He took a bite of his steak, and grunted at her expression and his eyes rolled in the back of his head, making her laugh.