Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (31 page)

“Was it Josh? You really haven’t been your typical self since his passing. Son, grief is hard, but I promise you that—”

“No, it’s not Josh.” He looked at his father earnestly. “Dad, I’ve fallen in love...”

~***~

Rhapsody crossed and uncrossed her legs as she sat on Dane’s favorite park bench. But Dane was nowhere in sight. She began to worry as the clouds drifted in a dark gray backdrop, the sure sign of a storm brewing. He hadn’t returned her phone call that she’d made to his cellphone during that hour; it had gone straight to voice mail. They’d agreed to meet there and then grab a bite to eat. He
had
been acting a bit strange the past few days.

This isn’t like him...

She looked out at the water and watched the Indian summer breeze blowing it into rippled waves. Peaceful. Beautiful. Sublime. Leaning forward, she let herself drown in her own thoughts.

Maybe this is a sign?

She shook her head. After a while, she stood from the bench and made her way to her parked car, resolved to go to lunch by herself. She turned on her mp3 player and moved her thumb over the buttons. Hitting the shuffle function, she pulled out of her spot, past the trees on the winding park road. She smiled when Maze with Frankie Beverly’s song, ‘When You Love Someone’, blared out. She swayed to the soothing ’80s R&B song. The lyrics spoke to her, about their special situation, and it seemed right on time. Chancing a look at her phone, she noted she hadn’t missed any calls and sighed.

I hope you are okay, Dane...

She turned the corner and began to sing along with the lyrics,
“...You can’t tell me it ain’t right, when you love someone...”

~***~

Dane sat quietly in his parents’ living room. The only sound that could be heard was the bubbling of the nearby aquarium, filled with assorted tropical fish swimming about, a tranquil scene during a distilling emotional storm. Heidi panted as she made her way toward her former master. Dane had always been her favorite and the old canine seemed to be wearing a smile, her mouth spread wide and the long, pink tongue hanging lazily out of the side of her mouth. Pushing her golden head into his hand, she let it hang over the arm of the dusky blue lazy boy chair.

He looked across the way at his parents, studying them in the deafening silence as he played with the crucifix around his neck. His mother remained despondent as she looked down into her lap. She had built an invisible wall, a fortress, but he could still feel her discomfort, the emotions bubbling underneath as she tried to keep her cool.

She was so angry, she was rendered speechless from his announcement in the garden. Knowing his parents well, he’d expected this reaction after thinking about this scenario a million and one times. Still, that didn’t make him any happier. Sometimes, knowing the truth doesn’t dissolve the lump in your throat when you know you’re about to break someone’s heart. Regardless, he wasn’t completely shaken by it, but he was going to have his say, and then be on his way.

“Mom,” he paused and gathered his words, “I know that you’re shocked about what I said to you while we were outside … If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to you privately.”

He looked at his father. Their eyes locked. Dane felt calmer, although his father’s tense body gave his mood away. The man’s hazel eyes tinted, concern filling them—no doubt fearing that Dane would let the old, dead cat out of the bag. He shook his head as if saying ‘No’ to his father, in an effort to offer reassurance, then watched the man sigh and slowly rise from his seat, soon disappearing up the steps.

Dane sat for a moment, frowning, his large hands clasped. Bracing himself, he looked at her, but her head was still down, as it had been five minutes previously, and five minutes before that.

“I know that you were very proud that I became a priest, and I understood why, Mom. I’m sorry that you’re upset about this, I’d expect you to be, but... I refuse to make my decisions according to other people’s expectations anymore, even yours, Mom.”

She finally raised he head, her eyes narrowed as she seemed to tussle with mixed emotions.

“Dane.” Her voice shook. “You told me that you wanted to be a priest while in college, remember?”

“Of course I remember. I was excited to tell you that I had been accepted into the seminary, too.”

“I supported you, even told you to stay in college, to make sure! You said, ‘Okay.’ Yes, I was very proud of you. It was a serious decision, you knew the gravity of it...I just,” she shook her head angrily, “don’t understand this.” She ran her fingers through her dark brown, shoulder length hair.

Dane threw his arms up in the air. “I have a feeling that nothing I say to you will change anything right now, but you needed to be told. It is a matter of—”

“Have you told anyone else?” she asked, her eyes pitiful and glossy.

He knew what that overwhelmed look was all about. She wanted time to talk him out of it, to stop the rocket of shame from blaring through space before it crashed and burned. She wanted to make it all right, fix the mess he was about to ignite. She had hung tightly onto her proud father’s hand on his dying bed and the words he said regarding Dane being a priest. Even on his death bed, he wanted to give glory to God, and to his grandson, whom he told everyone who would listen, was a priest, preaching the word of their Lord and Savior. It gave her joy that the man showed that type of exhilaration, though he didn’t show her a kind word once she reached her mid-teens. She’d only received affection from a distance, through her son. Dane also came to realize something
more; he was his grandfather’s favorite, but for all the wrong reasons.

“No, you are the first to know.”

She sighed with relief. “Please don’t tell Bishop Thayer or Fr. Kirkpatrick right now. Dane, you need to think about this; this is very serious. You are being too rash, you’re…you’re confused!” Her voice trembled, her hands flew to her face as though she could hide from the cruel world.

“Mom,” he said on a sigh, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I am going to tell you some more things you will not like. I’m tired.” He sighed heavily, angst tearing him up inside as he slumped in the chair. After a while, he rose and sat beside her, taking her hand, but she kept her eyes averted. “It’s time for everything about me to be out in the open, for me to come clean, and
this
time, you are going to listen to me.”

She lifted her head and stared at him, and he let his frustration show.

“Do you even know who I am? Do you know who Joseph is, Mom? Antonio? Daisy? Do you actually
really
know your children?’

“Dane, how dare you.” She snatched her hand away and rubbed her palms nervously up and down her thighs. “Of course I know my own children!”

“I don’t think so, Mom. I don’t think you nor Dad do, quite honestly. You live in this…bubble,” he said, gesturing with the words. “It keeps all the stuff out that you don’t want, all the debris. But the funny thing about that is that it doesn’t really keep it out, but only delays it from showing. Dirt is still on the floor, whether we see it with our own eyes or not.”

“No, I don’t want to hear this nonsense.” His mother put her hand up and shot up from her seat as if she were on fire.

Dane sat back, prepared for this, as well. He watched her move about, pacing, nerved up and twitching with anxiety. “Dane, I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I suggest—”

“What? That I bury it all...ignore it and start drinking again?!” He was coming undone.

A look of bewilderment crossed her face. Her brows dipped.

Dane leaned forward, his eyes on her as he clasped his hands together. He cleared his throat and smirked. He didn’t mean to, but he was at the end of his rope and he couldn’t take this anymore.

“Yes, Mom.” He nodded, his tone calm, cool and collected. “Your third son, Dane Giovanni Caruso, is a functional recovering alcoholic. You are going to hear this, rather you like it or not. You need to know the truth, once and for all. I’ve had a sponsor in AA since I was twenty years old. Sometimes I’d have to drink a bit in the car to even walk through this front door. I hid bottles of booze under my bed and some were not hidden at all. You did my laundry, I’m sure you saw something a time or two.”

At that, she gasped and covered her mouth. He stood, took her gently by the arm and helped her sit back down.

“Dane,” her voice trembled as her eyes watered, “you...you can get help. You don’t have to leave the priesthood over this. I didn’t know...”She shook her head, her face a mask of grief. “I thought you were, maybe, just experimenting. I never saw you drunk and you never got into any trouble.”

“But I
was
in trouble, Mom...deep trouble. Just because I appeared fine, doesn’t mean that I was. You of all people should understand that,” he shook his head, “But Mom, that’s not the problem anymore. I haven’t touched any alcohol in months, and don’t plan to again. I mean that. I can’t drink. I can’t trust myself to indulge every now and again to take the edge off because when something is bothering me, I use it to escape. I know what my triggers are, but around the time Josh passed, I had my final relapse.”

“Relapse?”

“Yes. I’d stop cold turkey. A year or two would go by—my longest stint was four years—and then it would happen again. This was my secret. The only reason why I am so sure it won’t happen again is because
now
I know why I was doing it, and that cause will be eliminated, because I am sitting here with you right now, and the running has to stop.”

She stiffened, as if bracing herself for a swift kick in the gut.

“I am sitting here in front of you, no longer ashamed. You need to hear what I’ve been doing, going through and hiding. I didn’t tell you, not because of fear of your reaction...but because I didn’t believe, Mom, you were strong enough to deal with it. I was protecting you, like I always do.”

She lowered her head, and tears fell down her cheeks. He leaned forward and lovingly brushed them away.

“On the outside, you appear resilient, but...” He swallowed and looked down at the floor, Heidi’s tail wagged back and forth as she lay indolently, looking up at the pair. “On the inside, you’re fragile.”

“I...I can’t believe this,” she mumbled tearfully.

“Oh, I think you can, Mom. I think a part of you deep down knew something was wrong, but then, that would...never mind.” He shook his head, wanting to keep on track, stick to the task and not start an argument. “Look, this is who I am. I am a human being who has made mistakes.”

“And you think becoming a priest was one of them? No, Dane, it wasn’t. I’ve seen you flourish. Do you realize how much people love you at St. Michael? Everywhere, actually. Let me get the articles, all of them, the local ones and the national ones, written about you and your work.”

As if renewed with new life, she shot up again from her seat to go gather all the periodicals detailing his wondrous deeds, the ones she kept stowed away to remind herself that she was a decent person, because she had a decent son to prove it. Dane patiently shook his head and gripped her wrist.

“Mom, I can’t do this anymore, okay? Not because I want to stop being a priest, but I want something, or shall I say
someone
, much more.”

“What? It’s...a woman?” Her voice trailed as she looked down at him. “You’ve met someone? But...how could that be?”

Had he gone too far? Was it too much shocking information all at once? Soon, she relaxed and regained her composure and sat back down, the small area rug bunching under her shuffling feet. Suddenly, she turned toward him, the tears still flowing. She grasped his hands tightly between her own.

“Dane, I knew something was going on with you,” she said, after a silence during which she just stared at him, with the emotional torment etched on her face. “I knew...for a while, and that is why, the other day, I told you thank you, about—”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he interrupted, still in protection mode from years of training, for fear of his father overhearing. He didn’t feel it was his duty to unload the old man’s secrets. That was his parents’ responsibility, and he prayed they’d handle it before leaving the Earth.

“I need to know.” She trembled. “I need to know...if you drank...because of...”

“Mom, that was only a small part of it.” He looked over his shoulder out into the hall, checking the way. “But, it wasn’t your fault. I was the one who chose to drink, I made that choice, and now, I am making a new one.” He rose from the couch, took her by the arm, and led her out the front door. They sat on the front steps of the wrap-around porch, listening to the birds on this beautiful day—the sky so blue after the afternoon showers. It looked as if it were painted by a master artist, and he knew it in fact had been. The clouds slowly meandered by, collecting and passing like dreamscapes, shifting into teddy bears, ice cream cones and men with bags over their shoulders. They told stories, they told lies, and they promised another day was to come.

The two looked straight out, watching slow moving cars go by every now and again causing a sloshing sound from the freshly laid puddles. The sweet scent of the recently planted flowers mixed with the earthiness of overturned soil tickled his senses. Purple and yellow tulips waved to and fro in the light breeze, offering a focal point as he cleared his throat and geared up for the final leg of his honesty tour that day.