Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (15 page)

“By all means.”

“I was actually a little jealous when you described your relationship with Josh at first.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“He was more like a brother. I can see why you’d have a hard time letting go, Dane. That was a
really
special relationship and I’m sure I don’t even know the half of it.”

Again, she reads me like a book.

“I like how you seem to know me so well, Rhapsody.” He allowed the thoughts to finally leave his mind and let her know just how he felt. “You understand me, you fill in the words, the puzzle. It feels good talking to you.”

I’m giving you permission, Rhapsody...come inside.

They just stared at one another for what felt like an eternity, until she looked shyly away. He found it absolutely adorable.

“Tell me about your sister, what seems to be the issue?” he encouraged.

She exhaled loudly. “She acts like I think I’m the best, or some mess.” She grimaced, shaking her head in confusion. “Like I’m Ms. IT! Whatever… Her name is Melody, and when we were little, we were super close.” She linked her fingers tight, locking them like a licorice vine.

“Then, I don’t know what happened.” She looked back out into the water. “She told me I think I’m better than her, and she makes fun of me, like we are ten years old! I’m talking really silly, snide, sometimes cruel remarks, Dane...like, she says I’m strange and sit around with candles, dancing and meditating all day...just stupid shi...stupid mess.” She shook her head.

“Well, do you?” He grinned, forcing her to laugh, to let the pain glide down smoother.

Regardless of her nonchalant behavior, he could tell that the ugly words said by her sister really hurt Rhapsody. She tried to act as if it was just annoying, but it was so much more.

We have more in common than she’d like to admit. She tries to be too strong, too.

“Now, normally,” Rhapsody twisted her lips and put her hand on her hip, “I wouldn’t give one iota about what someone thinks of me...but my sister? My mom, yeah, I care!” She looked straight at him. “Their opinion means the world to me but, you know,” she shrugged, “what can you do? You just have to get over it.”

“But you’re
not
over it. What she says, it hurts your feelings. It’s okay to admit that, you know.” He smiled at her as he continued to gently row the oars through the dark blue water.

She looked at him for the longest. He wondered what was going on in her mind, but he remained quiet, loath to disturb the moment just yet.

“I know, and you’re right. It just seems a little silly. I mean, I am twenty-seven damn years old, Dane! My sister just turned thirty. We are better than this, or so I thought.”

“I had no idea you had a sister in our high school, you know that?”

She must’ve been in at least one of my classes.

“You didn’t know anything about me in high school, so it makes sense.”

But I wanted to.

He didn’t dare say it, lady liquor would have given him the courage but he was done with her, he had to rely on his own scruples now, no beer bravado allowed.

“So anyway, she called me last night—left a voicemail about our mother having some party for her friends and wanted me to swing by and say hello. My mother had called me before, and I told her I’d try to make it. I didn’t need Melody calling right behind her, telling me how important it was!”

Dane almost felt as if
he
were Melody as Rhapsody cut evil glares his way. She became more animated, unleashing her burden. If he couldn’t hug her the way he wanted, he’d settle for second place, giving her a comforting word.

Dane offered an encouraging smile, urging her to get it all off her chest.

“And another thing,” she said, “she has never…not once,” she pursed her lips, “
never
has that woman come to a show of mine, Dane. I have invited her to countless performances. Let her be having a sorority party, then she wants me to come but gets mad if I sing. For example, usually one of her friends will ask me to, and her sorority sisters she graduated from college with, will tell me how nice I sounded. She only invites me to try to show me up, to show them how much better she is than me, but then she accuses me of acting that way and it backfires!” 

Dane was convinced that Rhapsody barely spoke to anyone about this problem. It felt too fresh, unrehearsed and raw, and he’d heard enough confessions over the years to be able to properly diagnose a complaining personality versus a person who was purging emotional trauma for the very first time.

“I mean, I’ll be the first to admit,” she continued. “She and I are like night and day. I am this person that just goes and does stuff. Yes, I can admit it. I know exactly who I am and what I am about. I need to look before I leap more, but I’m just not wired that way, although I’m learning, indeed I am.” Her eyes narrowed. “But she sits around wanting to impress people all day ’nd night.” Pointing at herself, she added, “Me? I don’t want to impress, I want to
move
and stir people. I want the inside of the person to grow, the outside will take care of itself, it will follow. That is what music does in my book...it moves people to action.”

“It does. It is a universal language.”

“Exactly! People all over the world embrace music, no matter their language, ethnicity and religion. We all react to rhythm. Life
is
rhythm. The seasons, our relationships, everything alive moves, even if you can’t see it. Everything breathing has a pulse, a beat it follows.”

Dane nodded in agreement. She was passionate about her vocation, about the crumbling sibling relationship; and her way of describing music, he wholeheartedly agreed with. He resolved to not speak for a while. She was like a patient on his imaginary couch, and he wanted her to keep purging, keep talking, until after a while, there was nothing left to do BUT listen...

She is rather poetic even in her anger. How beautiful.

“Our spirit is where it’s at! She’s superficial and silly, and doesn’t care about her fellow man...like, she could look at you sittin’ there on that bench, the way you were that day, and act like you didn’t even exist.”

But this isn’t about me right now, Rhapsody. Stay on track.

“...She does that with everyone but she wants all the sympathy in the world when she breaks a nail or her day didn’t go quite right,” she continued. “Melody is a bitch!” The words came out steeped in immense hurt and dripping in hatred. This time, she didn’t apologize for the profanity. She said it. She meant it. The end. He watched her tense; the once calm and collected Rhapsody was emotionally injured—a wreck. This reaction caused him to wonder what else lay under the surface.

What about the relationship that died right in the dead of winter? What did it
do
to her? Was she turned inside out? Did she shrug that off and run away from the emotions, and now they came boiling out of her heart, frothing over the edge, bubbling ,and catching fire—burning her up with the scorch of the truth? He surmised she’d been in love, but possibly convinced herself otherwise toward the end, just to get over the heartbreak. She was a ‘Braveheart’, but it was time to stop equating hidden emotions to strength. Strength is not in what you do or say, and what tears you do not shed. Strength knows that you must purge, because you are a creation of love. She had his same ailment—cure the sick and distressed, but the healer gets no aid or care...

“Sometimes I wish I could just beat the crap out of her!” Rhapsody’s voice echoed.

Well this surely escalated fast.

He stifled a smile, knowing it was highly inappropriate for him to appear slightly amused by her last confession.

“Let me offer you something.” He continued to row, smooth and even, turning them around ever so gently.

“Yes,” she said meekly, as if aware that she’d become too excited, her emotions roused and raw. He watched her chest rise up and down then slowly begin to calm but the unease on her face increased as she looked down onto her lap, nervously rubbing her palms together.

“From what you’ve described, and from what I know of you, it seems to me that you wish you had a more productive and healthy relationship with your sister. Despite your demonstrative flare-up, I can see through that.”

Her lip twitched, but she kept her eyes lowered.

“But Rhapsody, it takes two people to have a relationship. They have tobe on the same page. Not necessarily in the same state of growth, but their goal has to be compatible, and that is to fortify the relationship, make it strong. Relationships are built on trust, and you have to be willing to be vulnerable with one another. This goes with
any
type of relationship. Whether it is a marriage, mine with the church, and yours with your students and even your audience when you perform...when someone doesn’t trust, acceptor appreciate the other person, and can’t be free to be honest, then the relationship is off balance.”

She slowly looked up at him, taking an obvious interest in the words he’d uttered. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

“You are trying to equalize a mountain and an ant hill, make them weigh the same...place one on each side of a seesaw and force them to even out. It simply can’t be. Once you let go of the idea of what you
want
your sister to be, and how you wish for her to receive you, you won’t feel as strongly about this. The only expectation we should have is to expect nothing and that change, whether good, bad or indifferent, is inevitable. Now, sure,” he shrugged, “you may always wish the relationship were better, healthier, but you won’t lament over it or become so angry about it anymore. It’s okay to care, Rhapsody. It’s great to want better, and to want things to improve, but
you
are the only one you can control. Nevertheless, I’m glad you had a chance to get this off your chest. You clearly needed to. It’s good to hash this stuff out. You taught me that as well.”

“Well, I think you about summed that up!” She chuckled and gently slapped her knee, causing him to laugh back.

“I hope I helped...like you helped me.”

Silence.

“You did and you’re right...and I knew that, you know?” She shrugged. “Everything you’ve said I knew, but when you are in the moment...”

“Or not accepting the situation in here,” he looked down at his chest as he continued to row the boat, “in your heart, then you’ll keep fighting. I know all about that.” His thoughts drifted to him racing around the country speaking to different doctors about Josh’s condition. “This may not even be much about you, Rhapsody. This may be a problem that Melody is having and it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

She clapped her hands. “Amen to that! I agree.” A few moments passed.

“I feel better...I really do. Thanks.”

“Awesome. Mission accomplished.” He held her gaze as they neared the dock, then, took her hand and helped her off the boat. Her legs wobbled, and he instinctively grabbed her around her waist. Conflict raged inside of him.

Do I remove my hand and let go now?

He slowly released her, and she did him a favor by not looking in his direction, ignoring the smoldering build-up. Let off the hook, he allowed her to move ahead of him, walking on the uneven earth until they were both settled on grassy higher ground.

After a few awkward moments, they walked to the parking lot, exchanging inconsequential tidbits.

“...Yeah, the New York cheesecake is better,” she said.

“What about their key lime pie?”

“I’ve never tried it.”

“It’s delicious. Maybe one day we can go to
Detroit’s Cheesecake Bistro for lunch.”

She sighed and leaned up against her car. Instead of unlocking her black Corolla, she just stayed there, as if she were waiting for something or someone...

“Hey Dane, let me ask you somethin’.” She drummed her fingers against the roof of the car.

“Sure.”

“How did a football jock like you end up becoming a priest?”

He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.” I get asked that all the time. I was called. That is the simplest, most concise answer I can give you.”

She nodded, seemingly deliberating over her next words. “You seem to be into philosophy.”

“I am. I studied it in college, it is customary, and at the time, I didn’t know for sure I was going into the priesthood but it has served me well. I take it that statement is going somewhere? Another question?”

“Why have you taken an interest in me? Hmmm?”

He detected a slight annoyance.

“I’m not Catholic,” she said. “I’m not interested in converting. I want you to tell me why after all these weeks, we are talking and getting to know one another. Hell, I’d even say you are a friend of mine at this point!”

“I’d say the same...”

“You now know more about me, well, about how I
feel
, than anyone else. I don’t trust easily, not anymore,” she rolled her eyes, “I
barely
trust myself nowadays so...why are you here, talking to me?”

Her suspicions began to choke them, but he wouldn’t stay in her aim of fire. He knew where she was driving—destination paranoia, he’d become a suspect.