Bless Us Father (11 page)

“But Sean, you know how tight things are right now. And besides, this cheerleading business is just silliness.”

Mr. Riley turned away from his wife and put his newspaper and lunch pail on the counter. “Come here, Mary Margaret,” he said, holding out his arms. “Any girl that works as hard as you do and accomplishes as much as you deserves a bit of fun. Don’t you worry about the money. You just tell me how much you need and I’ll make sure you get it.”

Relief flooded over Mary Margaret as she melted into the comforting warmth of her father’s embrace. Only one more hurdle to cross--Father Antonio. Somehow she knew that would be the most difficult one of all.

The terrible immoralities are the cunning ones hiding behind masks of morality, such as exploiting people by pretending to help them.

-Vernon Howard-

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Good evening, Mrs. Hunter. Something sure smells good,” Mary Margaret said as she entered the kitchen of the rectory. “Are Father O’Malley and Father Antonio here yet?”

“No, dear, they aren’t. Would you like a chocolate chip cookie?” Mrs. Hunter handed her a plate of cookies without waiting for a reply.

“Thank you,” Mary Margaret said as she took a bite. “These are delicious.”

“You need some milk to go with them,” she said, going to the cupboard for a glass.

“I have to ask you something,” Mary Margaret said. “I got some good news today and I hope it isn’t going to be a problem.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Well, I tried out for the cheerleading squad and I made it.”

“That’s lovely news. What’s the problem?”

“I have practice right after school and I might get here late on those days. Maybe only a half hour, but it could be a whole hour. And sometimes the football games are on Friday night, and I would have to take those days off.”

Mrs. Hunter smiled warmly at her. “I don’t see any problem. The rectory isn’t busy on Friday nights when there’s a St. Dominic’s football game anyway. We’ll talk it over with Father when he gets here. You know he’s a big football fan.”

“No, I didn’t know that,” Mary Margaret said, trying to imagine Father Antonio being interested in football.

“Yes, that Matthew O’Malley goes to every single game. He just loves it.”

Mary Margaret heard the telephone ringing in the office and excused herself to go answer it, taking her plate of cookies and her milk with her.

“Hello, this is Saint Catherine’s, Mary Margaret speaking.”

For a moment, she thought there wasn’t anyone else on the line. Then, Father Antonio spoke. “I’ve just heard some rather disturbing news, and I thought I’d better talk with you directly, since I’m sure someone is in error.”

Mary Margaret’s stomach did flip flops and she thought she was going to be sick. “What kind of news, Father?”

“I was just talking to your principal, Sister Marianita, and she advised me that my special little assistant now has other duties to attend to.”

“I...I’m not sure what you mean, Father.”

“Come now, Mary Margaret. Surely you knew I wouldn’t be happy about you becoming a cheerleader and taking time away from the rectory.”

Mary Margaret felt her throat closing and her breathing coming in shallow little breaths all of a sudden. “But Father, it won’t take much time off from the rectory, and besides, Mrs. Hunter said....”

“Mrs. Hunter? Since when do you work for Mrs. Hunter?”

“Well, I thought I was here to help her with the phones.”

“Initially, that’s what your job was, but then I thought you showed promise and asked you to be my assistant. You agreed to that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I know I did, but....”

“Mary Margaret, I don’t want to continue this on the telephone. I’ll be back in about an hour and we’ll resume our conversation then.”

She hung up the phone and took the plate of cookies back to the kitchen, having now lost her appetite. “Thank you, Mrs. Hunter. I’m kind of full.”

Mrs. Hunter gave her a puzzled look, but took the plate from her and placed it on the kitchen table. “I’ll take a few home to Mr. Hunter, then. He’s never too full for cookies.”

Mary Margaret watched as Mrs. Hunter wrapped some wax paper over the plate, then took off her apron and hung it on a hook.

“I’m going to go home now. The priests won’t be in until late and I’d love to put my feet up and watch
Beverly Hillbillies.
I just split a gut watching their antics. Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Hunter. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, holding the door open.

She closed and locked the door behind her, then checked to make sure the porch light was on. The telephone started ringing again, so she ran back to the office to answer it. This time, Linda was on the other end of the line.

“So, how’d it go? What did your parents say?”

“For once Dad stood up to Mom and told her if I wanted to do it, he would give me the money.”

“Cool. I always liked your dad. How about the rectory? Were the priests and Mrs. Hunter happy for you?”

“That’s a different story. Mrs. Hunter said it would be fine, but Father O’Malley isn’t here tonight so I can’t ask him. Then Father Antonio called me on the phone and said he’d heard about it from Sister Marianita, and he had a cow.”

“Don’t tell me. He was jealous.”

Mary Margaret puzzled at this comment, then said, “No, that’s not it at all. He thinks it will take too much time away from me helping him as his assistant.”

“That’s silly. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Gotta go do Enlgish assignment.”

“Okay, see you at school.”

Mary Margaret sat staring at the telephone for several minutes wondering what on earth Linda had meant by saying Father Antonio was jealous. Where did she get her ideas?

A pain shot through her mid-section when she heard the back door open. She hoped it was Father O’Malley, but somehow knew it was Father Antonio and she was going to have to answer more of his questions.

He walked into the office, a big smile on his face. He unbuttoned his shirt and took off his roman collar. “Hello, Mary Margaret. I hope I didn’t upset you with my call.”

Unable to smile back, she said, “No...I...wasn’t upset. Just a little surprised.”

He sat on the blue vinyl couch and patted a spot next to him. “Come over here next to me where we don’t have to be so formal. Maybe I can explain myself better.”

Reluctantly, she stood up and walked to the couch. She sat next to him, careful to make sure she was several inches away.

He draped his arm on the back of the sofa behind Mary Margaret. “You’re trembling. Are you cold?” he asked, moving his arm down over her shoulders.

Mary Margaret stiffened at his touch. “No, I’m not cold, Father.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m upset at you, because I’m not.”

“No, Father,” she said, casting her eyes downward so he couldn’t read the lie in them.

“I’m just concerned that you won’t have time to help me with the projects I need help with if you’re always at cheerleading practice or football games.”

“But Father, we haven’t had any more projects since the festival, and you haven’t told me about any in the future.”

“And I realized that after I hung up. I’ve been so busy that I forgot to tell you about the youth retreat.”

“What youth retreat?”

“The diocese wants to get the youth of the church more involved. Times are changing and there’s more to church now than just showing up for Mass on Sunday. Anyway, we’re planning a retreat at Saint Anthony’s in Pico Rivera. I’m in charge of organizing Saint Catherine’s youth, and I’m going to need your assistance.”

“When is this retreat supposed to be?” Mary Margaret asked.

“The weekend of November 15, 16, and 17.”

“But...that’s homecoming weekend.”

“Precisely.”

Mary Margaret’s shoulders fell, and she looked down at the floor. What could she say? He had asked her to be his assistant--and she’d agreed--long before she ever thought about trying out for cheerleader. She’d lose out no matter what she chose to do. But give up being a cheerleader? No way. She’d worked too hard.

“Father, I just don’t think I want to do that instead of cheerleading. I know what I agreed to, but cheerleading isn’t forever. Maybe you could find someone else to help you with the retreat?”

He reached his right hand up and gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. He moved closer to her and wrapped the arm that had been on the back of the sofa around her shoulders. He traced his index finger down her cheek, then her neck, and then placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t want someone else to help me, Mary Margaret. You’re my special assistant, and I believe the Lord wants us to work together for the good of the parish. There’s no greater honor than to serve your church.”

“I know that, Father, but I thought I’d be serving by being a cheerleader for the schools. They’re extensions of the church.”

His right hand slid down from her shoulder and, hesitating only briefly, cupped her breast. He pulled her close to him and pressed his lips to hers. Gently, oh so gently, his lips parted and his tongue flicked out, tickling her lips.

That warm feeling was coming over her again, and it was wonderful. Father must really like her a lot. Maybe he was falling in love with her. Maybe they could run off somewhere together.

She opened her eyes and looked at the crucifix hanging on the wall of the office. Wasn’t this wrong? She couldn’t even date until she was seventeen. How could it be right to kiss an adult man? Yet, he was a priest, and she’d been taught to never doubt the priests when they told her something.

“Mary Margaret,” he murmured, now nuzzling her ear. “Oh Mary Margaret I need you to help me, not the school. Our Lord brought you to me to be by my side.”

His hand slid to her inner thigh and was massaging up and down, up and down. Next it was pressing her legs apart and sliding up towards private area. It felt so good. She leaned her head back and sighed as his mouth moved to her neck. His tongue was making little flicking motions, and his hand was now massaging a spot on her female parts that was causing a whole new sensation. She found herself wanting to press into his hand, but held back.

Suddenly, he sat up straight and took both of his hands off her. “If you must be a cheerleader, then so be it. I’ll organize the retreat by myself; there isn’t anyone else I want to work with.” He stood and picked up his roman collar.

“Oh Father, I feel like I’m letting you down.”

She felt more than that, actually. She wanted him to continue touching her, massaging her. These desires were sinful, she knew, but still wanted it all the same.

“You are letting me down, my dear, but I’ll get over it. Goodnight, Mary Margaret,” he said, turning his back on her and walking out the door towards the stairs leading to his room.

“Goodnight, Father,” she said, smoothing her hair and tidying her clothing.

She looked at the clock. Her mom would be pulling up any minute. She ran to the bathroom to check her appearance, and found to her amazement that her face was quite flushed and her lips looked puffy. No matter. It was dark and Mom wouldn’t notice.

She turned the office lights out, walked to the back door and opened it. Her Mom was just pulling the big Oldsmobile into the parking lot. She closed the door behind her and went out to the car.

“Hi, Mom. How was your evening?”

“You should know how my evening was. You’re the one that ruined it for me. Thank goodness for Father Antonio.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, he called the house tonight with his own concerns about your little cheerleading venture. I was able to remind your dad that you had made a commitment to assist Father Antonio, and in our family, we honor our commitments.”

“Father Antonio called the house and Dad went along with you and Father Antonio?”

“Yes, Mary Margaret, he did. He saw the light by the time I’d finished talking to him. He won’t be giving you any money for cheerleading, no sirree Bob!”

Tears rolled down Mary Margaret’s cheeks as she turned away from her mother.

Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself, or from holding certain views which others find inadmissible.

-Carl Gustav Jung-

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

No matter how hard she tried, Mary Margaret couldn’t get to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she remembered the feeling of Father Antonio’s lips on her neck. It had felt so good and so wrong at the same time. But it couldn’t be wrong. If Father Antonio chose her to be his special one, wasn’t that sort of like God choosing Mary as the mother of Jesus? One thing she knew for sure--she couldn’t tell anyone, they wouldn’t understand.