In Name Only (27 page)

Emma caressed
his back and brushed the hair away from his face.

 His father
scowled.  “Emma, stop coddling him.  Get one of the servants to clean this up.”

“I’ll tend to
him,” Emma said.  Her sympathetic expression and soft voice seemed to calm Liam
and he stopped shaking.  As Liam turned toward his mother, Jack touched his
shoulder.

“So the dog
did this, Liam?”

Liam looked at
David.  David nodded slightly.

“Yes, Father,
he did.”

“Looks bad,
doesn’t it, son?”

“Uh. . .” Liam
nodded, but now kept his face downward.

Jack shoved
past his sons to the gun cabinet near the hearth.

Immediately,
both boys’ eyes widened. 

“Father, what
are you doing?” asked David.

“I’m going to
solve the problem.”

“What problem?”
David asked, his voice now quivering.

Jack did not
respond.  Instead, he checked the rifle for ammunition, then slammed it
closed.  He rushed through the living room and into the foyer and out the front
door.

“Father, what
are you doing?” David screamed, then ran after his father. 

Liam was
trailing close behind, but David could hear his shaking voice, “David, what’s.
. .he going. . .to do with the gun?”

David turned
the corner, then stopped, with Liam bumping into him from behind.  Their father
had the rifle pointed at Golden Boy, their beautiful, playful golden
retriever.  His tail was wagging and, as he glanced at David and Liam, his head
perked up, oblivious to the gun pointing at him. They saw the dog’s head rip
open before they heard the shot.  David bit his lip and his body tensed. Behind
him, he heard his younger brother sobbing quietly.  Golden Boy now was an
unmoving bloody heap on the ground.  David gritted his teeth and turned
around.  “Shhh, Lee.  Stop crying before Father sees you.”

Liam wiped his
eyes, then ran toward the front of the house.

Jack, the gun
hanging to his side, approached David.  “So, David, your brother will never
have to worry about the dog hurting him again, now, will he?”

“But, Father.
. .”

“Will he?”

“Why did you
have to kill him?” David shouted, his voice now breaking.

Jack leaned
down close to David’s ear.  He paused and David felt his father’s breath on his
neck.  “Because you boys lied to me.  That’s why.”

David wiped his
eyes, then poured another drink from the brandy flask and gulped it quickly. 
It no longer burned his throat like it used to when he was a teenager.  The
liquid warmed his entire body and he greatly desired more.  The decanter now
empty, he observed, “This is my wedding day and there ought to be more celebrating,
the proper kind.”

The house was
quiet as he crept up the back staircase. He opened the servants’ bedroom door
and could hear Jane’s snoring and Hallie’s even breathing.  He knelt beside
Hallie’s bed and began to stroke her hair.  She roused enough to say, “Mr.
David?” 

“Shhh,” he said
and kissed the top of her head.

She sat upright
in the bed and pulled away from him.  “No, Mr. David,” she whispered, “not
tonight.  Remember what I told you?”

“What are you
talking about?” he whispered back.

“You’re a married
man now.”

“I told you that
it doesn’t mean anything, Hal.”  She touched her finger to his lips to quiet
him, then slipped on her robe and pulled him out into the narrow attic hallway.
Although it was dark, a small hint of moonlight reached in through the window
so that David could see her face clearly.  She was neither smiling nor
frowning.  “It may only be on paper, Mr. David, but I can’t do this to Miss
Caroline.”

“As if she cares,
Hal.  She can’t stand the sight of me.”

“You made vows
today to be true to her, Mr. David.”

“Nobody expects
me to keep those vows, certainly Caroline doesn’t.”

“Miss Caroline
doesn’t know you’ve been with me, Mr. David, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

He leaned down to
kiss her forehead.  “I need you, Hal.  Please.”

“Don’t,” she
whispered and stepped back.  “I mean it, Mr. David, I won’t do this anymore.”

He curtly said,
“Fine.” His mouth formed into a thin, angry line and he stared down at her
without saying anything further. He turned around and stomped down the back
staircase to the kitchen and out the basement door.  With lead feet, he trudged
into the barn.  He pulled Big Red from the stall and hitched him to the smaller
carriage, attached a lantern to the front and made his way over the dirt roads
and countryside to downtown Philadelphia.  There was a full moon to light his
path, although his horse already knew the way.

The clopping of
the horses on the cobblestone street jolted his senses and he questioned why he
was even here in the first place.  He shook away the feeling.  He pulled his
carriage to an area around the corner which led to the brothel.  At first, he
avoided the familiar house, instead sauntering down the street to Paddy’s Pub. 
He ordered whiskey and downed several shots.  Soon he felt dizzy and, at the
same time, desired the pleasure which Hallie had denied him.

David left the
tavern and made his way down the street to the brothel.  He carefully put one
foot in front of the other but found himself tripping and not able to walk
straight.  He reached the marble steps and knocked on the door.

A loud, made-up
woman answered the door.  “Well, I’ll be damned, it’s David O’Donovan!  We
thought you had moved to a faraway place.  We used to have women lining up to.
. .”

She left the door
open, then she yanked him in and began to touch him in places which hadn’t felt
a skilled woman’s hands in a long time.  He wanted to fight the overwhelming
desire but it was time to surrender.  He was a married man and deserved to be
that way with a woman, whether it was his wife or not.

The girl began to
kiss the side of his neck and he breathed in her scent, a sour stench which
carried a hint of perfume to it.  He immediately broke away from her and thrust
himself down the steps and onto the street, as if he were being vomited from
the mouth of the brothel.  “Where are you going, David?”  He could hear her
yelling as he rushed down the street.

He walked again,
striving to search for his small carriage and the horse he tied to a post.  His
vision was now slightly blurred and he felt lightheaded. 
Please God, help
me to find my carriage
.  He couldn’t believe that he was actually asking
God for something.  Certainly, God knew that he had never attended church,
except for Liam’s wedding and then his own farce of a ceremony yesterday.

God, help me
find my way
. He lost his balance and tripped on the step of a large
building.  When he raised his head, he could see four columns and, gazing
upward, a statue of some type.
St. Peter and Paul Cathedral
.  David
realized that this was not where his carriage was.  However, as he stood at the
bottom of the stairs, he felt peaceful, and it compelled him to climb the
steps. It was after midnight, and yet he instinctively knew that the door would
not be locked.  He opened it, but could see only darkness ahead of him.  He
ventured farther inside until he came to a door, which he quietly opened and
stepped inside.  A few small candles twinkled in the distance.  He wondered
whether he was dreaming.  The alcohol still numbed his senses somewhat, but he
could smell something fragrant here, a sweet mixture of beeswax and roses that
was warm and inviting.  He walked slowly down the center aisle, then finally
sat in one of the pews close to the front.

He glanced at the
few flickering candles at the front of the church, which seemed to bathe a
white statue of St. Joseph and the Christ Child held protectively in his arms. 
His eyes were drawn up toward the blackness of the ceiling. It was a starless
sky which seemed to stretch out for an eternity.  All of a sudden, he felt
small and insignificant.

He relaxed his
head against the pew. This was the first time he could recall savoring peace in
his soul.  The calm atmosphere and sweet aroma lulled him and he started to drift
off to sleep.

“Excuse me? 
Sir?” 

David drowsily
opened his eyes.

“Oh, yes?  Do you
want me to leave?”

“No, no.  But we
have a room at the front if you’d like to have a better night’s rest.”  The man
sounded young and had a slight Irish brogue.

David couldn’t see
the face of the person speaking to him. However, there was an unmistakable
kindness in his voice that caused him to relax.

“Oh, no, that’s
fine.  I don’t need a place to sleep.  I just. . .”What was he supposed to
say?  David figured this man was a priest, a true celibate.  He couldn’t very
well tell him that he had just come from the whorehouse.

“I, well. . .” 
He made an effort to speak clearly.

“It smells like
you’ve been to the pub down the street.”

“Yes, Father. .
.”

“Father Flaherty. 
What’s your name, sir?”

“David
O’Donovan.”

“Well, for the
love of St. Patrick.  You’re Irish like myself, Mr. O’Donovan.  Pleased to make
your acquaintance.”  He held his hand out.  David squinted, then shook it with
as firm a handshake as he was able to in his present condition.

“I don’t know
what to say, Father.”

“It’s not
necessary to say anything, Mr. O’Donovan.  If you should like to remain here in
church and sleep, that would be fine.”

“Well, I really
ought to be going.  I can’t find my horse and carriage.  I parked it up the
street near the. . .”

“If you’d like,
I’d be glad to help you find it.”

“Well. . .I. .
.”  David wasn’t sure what he wanted. He desired the peace that this place gave
him.  Should he tell this priest what had almost happened?  “I came from the
brothel.”

“Oh,” he heard
the priest say. 

“But, I didn’t. .
.”

“Ah.  That’s good
that you didn’t.”  He paused.  “Are you married, Mr. O’Donovan?”

“I suppose I am,
but. . .”  The priest remained silent.

“My brother died
a few weeks ago and he asked me to marry his wife, because I gambled away a
huge sum of money and it was necessary to invest money in an attempt to get it
back and our Father disinherited him. Anyway, I had to marry her. It’s a marriage
in name only because my sister-in-law, who is now supposed to be my wife, can’t
stand the sight of me.”

He heard the
priest quietly respond, “That is a most difficult situation, Mr. O’Donovan.”

“I. . .I can’t
stop bedding women.”

“Mr. O’Donovan,
you didn’t do anything at the brothel.  That’s very good.”

“Yes, but I
wanted to.”

“Our Heavenly
Father doesn’t expect us to follow His laws by ourselves.  We can’t do it
without His grace.” The man crouched down beside David and quietly recited:

“As I knew
that I could not otherwise be continent, except God gave it, I went to the Lord
and besought him with my whole heart.  Blessed is the man that endureth
temptation
.

“That’s from the
letter of James.” The priest paused.  “Do you see the statue of St. Joseph?”

David nodded.

“St. Joseph married Our Lady even though he wasn’t the blood father of the child Jesus, and
he remained celibate throughout their marriage.”

“Well, I’m
certainly not a saint, Father, and I’ve done some bad things.  A girl carried
my child and they both died during delivery and it was my fault.”  David began
to cry and he felt the young priest’s hand on his shoulder.

“And it’s my
fault that my brother’s dead and my sister-in-law had to marry me and she can’t
stand the sight of me and it’s all the worse because I. . .” David stopped.  He
couldn’t say any more.

“Mr. O’Donovan,
God is merciful.  His mercy is greater than any sin we could commit.  Besides,
you didn’t kill your brother, did you?”

“Of course not. 
But I didn’t give the thieves all my money and I was so angry that I punched
one of them and they killed Liam.”

“Your brother
died as the result of the greed of those thieves, not your attempt to keep what
was already yours.”

“I just can’t
seem to forgive myself for what I did. I am sorry, Father. But I don’t know how
to fix it all.”  He paused.  “Perhaps you can help me find my carriage.”

“I invite you to
remain here overnight while you sober up.  I’m certain our pastor, Monsignor
Fitzgerald, would not mind if you stayed here. Besides, tomorrow is Sunday morning;
perhaps you’d like to attend early Mass?”

“I can’t.  I’m
not a church goer.”

“You don’t have
to be, Mr. O’Donovan.  Please come with me to the front room and sleep.”