Bless Us Father (16 page)

“This room is bigger,” she said at the next doorway. “There are four beds in here.”

They continued the tour and found there were four more rooms with four beds each and one more room with just two beds in it.

“I can see we’ll have to draw straws to determine who gets the smaller rooms.”

He took Mary Margaret’s hand in his and turned to face her. He then took her other hand and guided her arms around his waist. He wrapped her in his arms and covered her mouth with his, kissing her softly, then more urgently. He pressed his tongue against her teeth until she opened them and allowed him inside her mouth.

She felt herself getting warm all over, especially in her private parts. Her heart quickened with excitement at being so far away from home and alone in such a secluded place with Father Antonio. She pressed herself to him and clung even tighter as he kissed her.

He pushed her against the wall and slid one hand underneath her sweater and blouse, unhooking her bra and cupping her breast. His mouth was on her neck now, and he tickled her with little bites and kisses.

“Come, my special girl. Come with me. It’s time,” he said, leading her back to the first bedroom.

He gestured for her to sit in the chair while he placed the suitcase on the bed and started removing items from it.

Mary Margaret began to felt dread in the pit of her stomach as she watched Father Antonio remove some large towels out of the paper bag, pull back the blankets on the bed, and cover the bottom sheet with the towels. He placed a small foil package on the tiny nightstand, along with some folded wash cloths.

“Over here, sweet one,” he said. “Come to me.”

Mary Margaret got up slowly and walked over to Father Antonio. She was beginning to get really frightened and started shaking. He’d never acted like this before.

“Oh, don’t be nervous my little one. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He began kissing her again and pressing himself into her, his hardness pushing into her abdomen.

“I’m going to turn my back, and I want you to take all of your clothes off and get into bed. Quickly so you don’t catch cold.”

Paralyzed now, she just stood there as he turned his back and motioned impatiently with his right hand. She took her sweater off and placed it on the chair. She removed her shoes, socks and her wool slacks, feeling goose bumps rise on her arms and legs from the chill in the air.

“Everything? Do I have to take everything off?”

“Yes, hurry, please.”

She hurriedly did as she was told and quickly got into the bed.

Father Antonio turned back around and smiled at her lying there with the blankets pulled up to her chin. He removed his shirt first, then his undershirt. His chest was a carpet of black fur. Next he took his shoes and socks off, then his pants. Mary Margaret couldn’t believe she was about to see a naked man. She’d never seen an adult male naked and couldn’t imagine what it would be like. Her eyes were glued to his boxer shorts and the bulge that was almost protruding through the fabric. She closed her eyes for just a moment, and when she opened them he was just climbing into the bed with her.

“Oh, my dear. I’ve waited so long for this moment. I knew when I first saw you that you were a gift to me from God, that you were what was going to save me, and now here we are.”

He spoke no words after that. His tongue began exploring her body in ways it never had before. He licked her nipples and took them one at a time into his mouth. He put his finger in his mouth then moved it down to her private area, inserting it into her vagina gently. He probed, and stretched the skin a bit, then removed his hand and reached for the foil packet on the table.

Mary Margaret heard the foil tear, felt him roll off of her and fumble with his private area, then roll back on top of her, kissing her and probing her mouth with his tongue. He pushed his hardness at her opening again and again, then all of a sudden she felt a sharp tearing pain and he was inside her. It burned and was terribly painful, but at the same time she started feeling the warmth heating up in that area. What a curious sensation. Pain and pleasure all at the same time. All too soon it was over with a shudder and a groan. Father rolled off of her and lay staring at the ceiling, his breath coming in gasps.

Once he was breathing normally again, he lifted himself up on one elbow and caressed her cheek. He kissed her softly on the lips, then said, “I’m going to take my clothing into the other room to dress. I’ll leave you alone until you’ve gotten yourself cleaned up and dressed. Then we’ll have our lunch.”

And just like that, he was gone. Mary Margaret felt tears stinging her eyes and covered herself with the blankets. How would she be able to face him again after this? For that matter, how could she face anyone with this dirty little secret hanging over her head? She was sure that nothing would ever be the same.

The measure of a man’s real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out.

-Thomas Babington Macaulay-

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Mary Margaret uncovered her head and slowly sat up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, making sure to keep the terry cloth towels underneath her. She stood up and looked at the towel that was still covering the bottom sheet of the bed. Large spots of blood dotted the towel causing her to quickly sit back down, fearing blood would drip on the carpeting. She tucked the towel between her legs and stood up again, walking over to where her clothing and purse were.

She opened her purse and searched for the small cosmetic case where she kept a sanitary napkin and elastic belt for emergencies. She put the belt on and secured the tails of the napkin through the clip on the belt, locking it in place.

Looking around the room, she wondered if there was a bathroom nearby where she could wash up. She wanted, no needed, to scrub herself clean.

The way she felt now was completely different than when Father was touching her before today. They’d had their clothes on and it was just fooling around, not really having sex. This had been real sex and she wasn’t a virgin anymore. She’d lain naked with a man and had him inside her. It was wrong and she knew it.

Then another thought occurred to her. What if she was pregnant? This was how girls got pregnant. But who could she talk to about it? There wasn’t anyone. She didn’t have any close girlfriends anymore and she certainly couldn’t ask her mother.

She jumped at the sound of knocking at the door. “Yes?”

“Are you about ready, Mary Margaret?” Father Antonio asked. “I have our lunch on the table.”

Lunch? How was she going to eat lunch with Father? How could she face him?

“I need to use the restroom,” she said softly. “Where is it?”

“Just down the hall to the left. Hurry. I’ve worked up an appetite.”

She took her purse and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. There was toilet paper on the roll, but no wash cloths or towels hanging on the towel rack. The cleansing shower would have to wait until she got home.

Mary Margaret closed and locked the bathroom door, then looked in the mirror. She didn’t look any different. Why did she feel so different? Would people be able to tell by looking at her? Will her mother be able to tell what happened today? She took out her comb from her purse and ran it through the tangles in her hair. Her lipstick was gone, so she got out a tube and put some more on.

She needed to pee, so lifted the toilet lid and sat down. She checked the sanitary napkin for bleeding, but there were only a few small drops. It burned to pee and she had to wipe herself gently. She got up, washed her hands, and dried them with toilet paper which she tossed in and flushed.

Finally, she took a deep breath, opened the door and started for the kitchen. She found Father Antonio sitting at the table, a red checked cloth spread over it and the bologna sandwiches, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, and glasses of milk on top.

“Sit down,” Father said, gesturing to a chair across from him. “We need to hurry if we’re going to be able to see Santa’s Village before we have to go home.”

Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Mary Margaret sat in the chair, spread a napkin on her lap and stared down at it. “Santa’s Village?”

“Yes. I’ve heard it’s a quaint little place. There are even live reindeer.”

She reached for a half a sandwich and took a small bite, though she wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to go to Santa’s Village, either. How could he even suggest that? Now he was acting like she was a child, when just a short time ago, they were...

They finished lunch and Mary Margaret cleared the table and put her mother’s tablecloth and napkins back into the basket to take home. She looked around for Father, but he’d left the room, so she got her coat and put it on, then waited by the door. He came back in carrying the paper bag he’d brought with him, and filled it with the wax paper that had wrapped the sandwiches and cookies.

“I’m just going to take this out to the trash,” he said, putting his coat on. “I’ll be right back in and we’ll go.”

The drive to Santa’s Village didn’t take long. The parking lot was empty when they pulled in.

“It looks like it’s closed,” Father said, driving up to the entrance.

He sat and stared at the closed sign on the gate, then finally turned the car around to leave.

“I’m sorry. I hope you’re not disappointed,” he said. “I was looking forward to getting some cookies from the bakery there.”

“We still have cookies left that my mom baked,” Mary Margaret said.

“I know, but I just thought you’d like some of the iced sugar cookies they make. We’ll have to do it another time.”

The drive back down the mountain seemed to take forever. Snow had started falling in the mountains, and as they got lower, it turned into a hard rain. She looked out the window and noticed how the tires were shooting water and dirt up onto the snow banks on the side of the road, turning the formerly pristine white snow a dirty gray.

Father Antonio concentrated on driving rather than talking, for which Mary Margaret was grateful.

Once home, Father got out of the car and retrieved Mrs. Riley’s picnic basket from the back seat. He followed Mary Margaret up the walk.

Just as Mary Margaret grasped the doorknob to open the door, it flew open. For a moment, Mary Margaret didn’t recognize the woman standing there.

“Mom? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?” Mrs. Riley asked, smiling and blushing.

“Your hair. What did you do to your hair?”

Mary Margaret wasn’t able to take her eyes off her mother’s hair. Her formerly long brown hair was now a short, auburn, bouffant bubble do. She had bangs fringing her forehead, and a tiny black velvet bow pinned just above the bangs.

“I simply took your advice and treated myself to a day at the hair salon.”

Father Antonio stepped forward and took Mrs. Riley by the arm. “I think your hair looks lovely and the color suits you perfectly.”

Mary Margaret watched as her mother and Father Antonio went inside, leaving her standing on the step. She waited a bit, then ran to her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

#

A loud pounding on the door that sounded like it wasn’t going to stop forced Mary Margaret to take the pillow off her head and sit up on the side of the bed.

“What do you want?” she asked the closed door.

“I want you to open this right now, young lady. I can’t believe how rude you were to Father. He’s gone now, so open up,” her mother demanded in a stern voice.

Mary Margaret got off the bed and walked slowly over to the door, unlocking it reluctantly.

“There, it’s unlocked. You can come in if you have to.”

She watched as the door flew open and her mother walked in, her hands on her hips and fury in her eyes.

“You’d better have a very good reason for behaving this way after all Father has done for you.”

Mary Margaret stared at the crucifix hanging on the wall next to the door rather than look her mother in the eye.

“Did I get a card from Dad for my birthday?”

“What?” her mother asked, puzzled.

“Did he call to wish me a happy birthday while I was up in the mountains?”

“Where did that come from? And no, he didn’t send a card or call.”

“Then I guess my father hasn’t done much for me, so maybe that’s why I’m behaving this way,” Mary Margaret said.

“Don’t play games with me, I’m not talking about your father, I’m talking about Father Antonio. And you know darned well that’s what I meant.”

“Oh yeah, Father Antonio. How could I possibly forget what he’s done for me?” Mary Margaret said, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically.

“Mary Margaret Riley. Whatever has gotten into you?”

“You don’t want to know,” she said, flippantly.

The air in the room was thick with tension as the two women glared at each other. The ticking of the clock on Mary Margaret’s dresser seemed to grow louder by the second.