With the Father (23 page)

I’d be lying if
a small part of me didn’t want that. I wanted Paul for myself, and I wanted it
for him, too. We
would
be happy
together. However, my happiness would come at a cost. It wasn’t free, and I
knew it would always be tempered. I could see my life without Isabelle and
Trey. Visiting their graves, grasping onto Kate and my father for support,
trying to find my way without them.

Life is about
choices. Every choice has a consequence. Every action has a reaction. Most of
the time we do not what those consequences will be. However, I’d been given a
precious gift. As much as I wanted a life with Paul, there was only one thing
that I wanted more, and I would give up everything for a different outcome.

One in which my
children might be allowed to live.

One in which
Trey might be given the chance to be loved as freely and completely as Paul
did.

One in which
Isabelle might know what it was like to feel that love reflected back at her.

I would
willingly walk away from it all so they could feel one ounce of what I had felt
for Paul. It was a chance I would take, and I knew in my heart that if I wasn’t
meant for Paul, someone else was.

I looked up the
stairs and knew that I didn’t have two choices at all.
 
There was only one.

I had to save my
children if I could.

five
months
before

PAUL

I’d officiated my fair share of funerals, but this one had been
different. Losing a family in a house fire was hard enough. Burying the woman
you love was unbearable.

There was a saying that I’d heard and dismissed my
whole life.
You don’t know what you’ve got until you’ve lost it
. During
the past six days, I’d come to the conclusion that it was trite but true.

 
Of course,
the phrase didn’t really even apply to me. She’d never been mine to lose. She’d
belonged to someone else every day that I knew her. I’d never know what could
have been if I’d had a chance with her.

However, I was finally being honest with myself and
I’d always known how special Grace was. Her death had made me see that.
 
I hadn’t been able to put it into words
or even admit it to myself before now, but I’d loved her for more than a year.

The fact that I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for
her, or any other woman for that matter, had made them easier to ignore, but
that didn’t mean they weren’t there. On this day, when my job had required me
to officiate her funeral, I was finally willing to acknowledge that a force had
been pulling me in her direction from the very first time I’d laid eyes on her.

I remembered it as if it were yesterday.
 

It had been a Monday in early October. I’d just moved
here and had been walking Chubs through the streets of downtown in an effort to
get acquainted with my new home. The weather had still been stifling though I’d
been repeatedly assured that eventually the seasons would change. Coming from
Boston, which had already experienced its first snow of the year, it had been a
shock to my system.

I rounded a corner, and there she was, sitting at a
two-seater table outside of the town’s only coffee shop, head bowed, engrossed
in a book. Even now, I couldn’t explain why I’d done it. I didn’t even like
coffee. However, something or someone compelled me to walk toward the coffee
shop and toward her.

I hadn’t stopped to introduce myself as I passed
because that would have been strange for both of us. Instead, I walked to a
table and tied Chubs to the chair. Then I’d gone inside and ordered a small
black coffee because the names of the other drinks on the menu made no sense to
me. I’d taken my paper cup outside and sat with Chubs while my untouched drink
got cold.

While I absentmindedly scratched his head, she’d
leaned her head forward, causing her hair to fall in front of her shoulder. I
watched her wrap a piece of it around her finger, her eyes still on the book,
and then toss it back over her shoulder. Every so often, the corner of her
mouth would lift, and she would smile at whatever she’d read. Then she’d look
off into space while she seemed to think about something. After a few moments,
she’d return to her book as if she’d figured out the answer to whatever had
puzzled her.
 

It sounded stalkerish now, but it hadn’t felt like
that at the time. There’d just been something about her that I couldn’t walk
past.

She was a beautiful woman, but that wasn’t what had
sparked my interest and held me to that chair. I’d walked past thousands of
beautiful women in my life without a second thought.
 
She’d been different though. There’d
been a light in her warm eyes that made her shine brighter than most. I’d
reacted differently than I ever had before.

At some point, she’d looked up and her eyes had met
mine. She’d smiled warmly, probably not even realizing that I’d been observing
her for a while. Her expression was kind, but it had made me realize that my
actions were completely inappropriate, considering the collar around my neck
and the ring on her finger. I’d smiled in response and quickly looked away. I’d
untied the dog and wandered away, knowing in a town this size I’d see her
again. I hadn’t realized how soon that would be.

Several hours later, I was performing the same
exercise at the church, wandering the halls as the school dismissed and meeting
the parents picking up their children. My hope was that I’d recognize a few
faces when I conducted my first mass the following Wednesday night.
  

I’d turned another corner, and there’d she’d been
again talking with a small group of moms. A small girl darted up and tugged on
her hand. She immediately dismissed her conversation and squatted down to her
level. She’d thrust her shoe out at her, and she laughed as she tied it for
her. Afterwards, she flung her arms around her neck and said, “Thank you,
Mommy.”

“God, I can’t wait for kindergarten when they learn to
tie their own shoes,” the blonde woman next to her had said. Her voice had
conveyed her annoyance at having their conversation interrupted. “Some days it
seems like all I do
is
tie Autumn’s shoes.”

The woman from the coffee shop acted as if she hadn’t
even heard her friend. “You’re welcome, Isabelle.”

“I want to learn how to tie my own shoes,” the girl
whispered to her mother. Obviously, she’d heard the other woman.

“I’ll teach you,” she’d said with a conspiratorial
wink. “But I will never grow tired of tying your shoes for you.” She’d pulled
on the little girl’s ponytail playfully as she stood.

Later, I learned that the blonde’s name was Arden and
the brunette’s was Grace. When I had gotten to know them better, I had come to
the decision that they couldn’t have been more perfectly named. They were best
friends; yet, they were so completely opposite from one another. Arden was
flashy and pretentious and, unlike Grace, always putting on a show. Every word
out of her mouth was orchestrated to fulfill her own selfish purposes. Grace,
on the other hand, was quieter and gave way more to people than she took.

Now, I was exhausted after spending the last two hours ministering to
what was left of Grace’s family. I’d delivered her last mass, and I had no
choice but to do it as if I weren’t falling apart. It was what was required of
me. It was my job. But as they lowered her into the ground, I’d felt like my
heart was being ripped out and buried with her.

I picked up my phone and dialed. Russell was expecting
my call and answered on the second ring. With none of the usual formalities, I
launched into the conversation we’d started days ago. “Without a doubt, that
was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” I said into the phone. “I can’t do this
anymore. I can’t pretend that my heart is not divided and that I’m not in
violation of what we stand for.”

“Do you want me to come?”

I sighed. “No.” I’d been a burden on Russell for the majority of my
life. “I’ll be all right. I’ll figure it out.”

“But why do it alone? I’m coming. I’ll let you know when I have flight
information.”

“Thank you,” I said, conceding that I wanted him here.

“I’m always here for you, son,” he said, hanging up.

I felt better just knowing that he was on his way. I turned to Chubs
who was sitting by the door. His long thick tail thumped against the floor.
“All right, boy. You’ve been patient enough. Just let me change first.”

When we got to the nearly deserted dog park, I unhooked Chubs’ leash to
let him run.
 
Or more likely, sit. I
turned toward where I knew I would find a bench.

Even though I’d seen her just a few hours before and even exchanged a
few words with her after the service, I paled at the sight of her. I’d made
every effort not to stare at her at the funeral. However, now that she was
staring at the ground in front of her, her mind somewhere other than the
Merriville
dog park, I gawked at her. Much like I’d gawked
at Grace the first time I’d seen her.
 

The resemblance between them was so uncanny that I didn’t know if I
would ever get used to it. They shared the same skin tone, long dark hair, and
wide brown eyes, and they seemed so close in age that I’d first wondered if
they were twins. However, now that I could really study her, there were subtle
distinctions that set the two apart.

Kate’s face was
more heart-shaped than her sister’s, and her cheek bones were less defined. Her
nose was finer and she wore her hair a bit longer, in a sleeker more
sophisticated style than Grace, who’d often let the natural wave in her hair
run free.

Whereas Grace was
as innocent and quiet as the small-town in which she lived, Kate was bolder.
More intense.
Something told me that she lived her life that
way as well.

I wanted to live my
life like that.

When her gaze
unexpectedly pulled upward and she met my stare, she looked like a woman on a
mission.
 
There was a confidence
about her, as if she were unapologetically comfortable with whom she was. I
could tell that she was used to getting what she wanted.

Having been caught watching her, there was no way I could avoid her
now, so I made my way across the mostly vacant dog park to where she sat.
 

“Father. Though I have to say,” she said, nodding at my jean-clad legs
and Boston Red Sox t-shirt, “you don’t really look like one.”

I was wearing street clothes rather than my usual clerics. It was
something I rarely did around town. However, considering the revelations I’d had
this week, I sincerely doubted that I would ever put them back on again. My
life was in flux again. Though I’d made no decisions, change was imminent. I
could feel it in the air around me.

“How are you guys doing?” I asked, ignoring her commentary on my choice
of outfits.

“As expected, I suppose. Some of us are taking it harder than others.”

“Everyone grieves differently. There’s no right or wrong way.”

“What about you?” she asked, her intense eyes daring me to answer
honestly. “I understand you and Grace worked together at the kitchen.”

I swallowed hard and tried to maintain my composure. A certain level of
sorrow could be expected from a priest who’d lost a parishioner. That was
especially true in my case since I’d worked so closely with Grace at Karen’s
Kitchen. However, the intense heartache I felt over losing her was entirely
inappropriate.

Knowing I would give myself away, I deflected the question. “The better
question is how is she?” I said pointing in the direction of the water
fountain.

As if I’d called her, the girl turned and faced me. As she ran towards
me, my heart broke yet again.
I was surrounded by familiar
faces
, but none of them were the one I wanted so desperately to
see.
 

A rotund bulldog chased after her with more speed than I thought
possible for its size. “Father Paul,” she said breathlessly. She leaned over
and put her elbows on her knees to catch her breath. Unlike her aunt who was
still wearing the black dress she’d worn to the funeral, Isabelle had changed
into shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hi there, Isabelle. That’s a very cool dog that you have.”

She nodded and eyed my equally out of shape basset hound. “He’s pretty
cool, too.” Happy to be receiving the attention of a pretty girl, my dog moved
to her side and raised a paw to beg for a scratch. A small smile played on
Isabelle’s lips.

“He wants you to scratch between his ears.” Still bent over, she
obliged, and Chubs’ tail thumped wildly against the ground, which was still
slightly damp from the unexpected rain shower we’d had earlier.

She stood again, slipped something into her pocket, and fished out a
bag of treats. “Watch this, Father Paul.” She tossed a milk-bone into the air
above the squatty beast of a dog
who
opened her wide
jaws and snagged it perfectly from the air.
 

“That’s quite a trick,” I said.

“Aurora
is
awesome,” the little girl said. “We bought her for my
grandpa when my grandma died.” A dark cloud passed over her eyes.

“She
is
awesome,” I said quickly while bending to scratch
Aurora’s head. Before I could, she flopped onto her back, exposing her belly to
me. “Is she named after the Greek Goddess or the lights?” I asked.

“Huh?” Isabelle asked in confusion.

Kate answered for her. “Her full name is Princess Aurora.”

“Does she sleep a lot?” I asked Isabelle while continuing to scratch
the dog’s stomach.

Aurora snorted in appreciation and Isabelle smiled. “Yes. Last night,
they let her sleep with me.”

“I bet she’s a great
cuddler
. You know, your
grandpa probably needs your help taking care of her. He’s going to need you to
walk her and feed her and give her baths. You think you’re going to be able to
help him out with all of that?” I pointed at the dog lying on her back at my
feet.

“I think so.”

“Hey, Isabelle,” Kate said. “Why don’t you take the dogs over to the
fountain for a drink? It looks like they could use it.”

Isabelle nodded and pulled the black shiny object out of her pocket
again. She walked away from us with it tucked in one hand. The other hand
patted her legs as she coaxed the dogs to follow her.