Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (20 page)

The old man sighed and slumped down onto a glossy tan mall bench. Across from them was a cluttered store specializing in women’s shoes and accessories, packed with teenagers and women vying for their size and favorite styles. Big red signs marked, ‘Clearance’ and ‘
Sale’ dotted the storefronts. The two men sat side by side, in uncomfortable silence for a while.

“Dane.” The old man chewed on his inner jaw, his expression tight as he briefly glanced at him, then back away at the crowds. “I need to discuss some things with you.” He clasped his heavy, age-spot covered hands, one over the other, across his robe covered lap. Every now and again, someone would glance their way. People, after all of these centuries, were still fascinated with seeing priests in their vestments. Neither of them had bothered to change from their black robes after service and since Dane had been stopped from going into his apartment, he decided to stay dressed as he was.

“Yes, of course.” Dane tried to keep his cool, reminding himself to not become defensive.

“Since your friend passed away, you’ve been under a dark cloud. Well, you actually seem much better now, but, I noted the change at the time. I offer you my condolences once again.”

Dane smiled, and offered a quiet ‘thank you.’

“I knew you and the young man, Josh, right?”

“Yes, his name was Josh...”

“You were quite close, he’d spend hours with you during his visits, and you spoke of him so highly. We all could see the friendship. You both seemed to look up to one another and I could see where you got some of your sense of humor from.”

Dane cleared his throat, and nodded in agreement.

“Sometimes, when we lose someone we love, we doubt God’s love for us because, well, He took someone from us, someone we weren’t prepared to let go of...We hurt so deeply. Our lives are sometimes not easy. We work for God, we are here for the Church, that is our first priority, and sometimes, that lends way to loneliness. You lost your grandfather a couple years ago, then Josh... and you became close to many patients at the hospital. Many have passed away. I know it had been difficult.”

He paused.

“I also know, you’ve been spending quite a bit of time by yourself, and that sometimes is helpful, other times, maybe not.” He shrugged. “You said you’d been in prayer, and trying to sort some things out, and I respected that. You needed it, we understood.”

Dane was comforted by the older priest’s sensitive, caring tone, despite the ball that was about to hit his wall.

Wait for it...

“In that alone time, sometimes things we struggle with become even worse and it is a fight that becomes harder instead of easier. It can make us question ourselves and our beliefs all the more...” He took a deep breath, looking out into the sea of people. Gearing up. Dane braced himself.

“Do you recall my story, Dane?” He turned to him. Dane’s eyes met his dark brown ones, soulful and rich, riddled with crow’s feet and love.

“Yes, Fr. Kirkpatrick, I do.”

“Well, then, you recall that before I became a priest, I was married, correct?” The man turned away from him again. He seemed a little breathless.

“Yes, Father, I do.”

“And she passed away.” He pulled a Kleenex out of his side pocket and blew into it. Dane’s stomach churned as he waited for the hammer to drop.

Just say it. We know where this is going.

“That was the worst day of my life, the day my Ingrid passed. She’d been sick, but it was painful, all the same. I accepted my calling into the priesthood after that. I knew I had been called, even before I married her, and I felt like, in some way, this was my second chance. It was far less common at that time for a priest to have ever been married. Then, of course, the sex abuse scandal hit, and the church scoured for people...for new priests,” he said with a faraway look. “I want to tell you that I once was in love, and I know what it looks like, Dane. I know what it feels like...I recognize it.”

The men exchanged glances.

“Once you know it, you never forget it, but I’ve transferred that devotion to the Church, and you vowed to do the same. When you entered the seminary, you were very young, only a junior in college. In that time, however, I got to know you.” He looked at Dane, his eyes earnest—almost pleading. “We talked quite candidly and after you spent four years at St. Agnes, you came to our parish. You’ve been here for almost two and a half years...and in that time, I’ve started to see you like a grandson, and got to know you even further.” Fr. Kirkpatrick smiled.

“Thank you...”

“I remember the things we discussed, and I knew you had a promising future ahead of you at St. Michaels, and anywhere else you’d go to. I also know that we are human, Dane, we are just men, and things happen sometimes that get us off track when we don’t keep the temptations in check...like a pretty woman.”

A thick layer of tension grew and choked the air, strangling the oxygen, making Dane’s throat tighten. He rubbed the side of his jaw, his back slumped a bit as he leaned forward in his seat.

“...A pretty woman that goes to the park...and you go, too...
hoping
to see her there, day after day.”

Fr. Daniels and Fr. Sinclair! Nosey jerks! Spreading gossip!
Dane fisted his hands, but tried to remain outwardly calm.

He’d seen them several times a week; sometimes they’d stop at a water fountain, other times approach him while he was sitting with Rhapsody. They smiled and laughed, engaging in small talk, never alerting him of any concerns they had regarding his private life. He grinded his teeth, wanting nothing more than to give them a piece of his mind when he returned to the parish.

“From what I understand,” Fr. Kirkpatrick gave a slight grin, “she moves like an angel caught in the rapture.” The man’s eyes twinkled as he spoke. “I could see how that may be exciting. It makes you react in a carnal fashion, especially those of us that have had the pleasure of a woman in an intimate manner before. You’d fornicated repeatedly, in high school and college, by your own admission.”

Dane shot him a glance, vexed.

“This isn’t a judgment from me to you, Son,” he said sincerely. “You’ve already been forgiven for those sins. It is just me explaining to you that it may be even
harder
for you, because you have experienced sexual intimacy before and all those old feelings could be riled up, causing a great temptation. That’s all I’m saying. It’s a test.” He patted Dane’s leg. “You are a nice looking young man. You will draw female attention from that fact alone. You already do. If you haven’t noticed, the church attendance grew after you started working at St. Michael’s, and many of the new parishioners are single women. We all knew it was because of you,” the old man chuckled. “You are a great speaker as well, so it was a two for two deal, I suppose.”

Dane smiled, but it was wrought with anxiety.

“Dane, women, you will discover if you haven’t already, have some misplaced attraction to men like us, which may make it even harder. Some see us as a challenge, to try and see if they can break a priest, make him sin.”

Dane felt his body warm with slowly simmering anger. He ran his hands ruggedly along his knees and swallowed.

“But you are holy, you serve God and the Church. You cannot serve two masters, Dane. You cannot drift down this path because,” he looked at him, worry deep in his expression, “it won’t end well. You are vulnerable right now, you’ve suffered a great loss, and I strongly suggest you stay with us, in the rectory, far away from her, until you get this situation under control.” 

Dane was at a loss for words. He knew that the topic was coming up, but he never expected it to be quite this way. He was sure Fr. Kirkpatrick was going to yell at him, and he’d more than likely yell back, defending himself, denying the accusations. But, as it was laid out, he was tongue tied.

“And before you ask,” Fr. Kirkpatrick offered, “I know about her, because some of the others have seen you out and about, speaking with her. No one paid it any mind initially, from what I gather, but...you seemed distracted after a while and when she came to the church, well,” the old man shook his head, a frown budding across his wrinkled face as he surveyed the bustling crowd full of shoppers, “I saw how you looked at her, Dane.” He removed his glasses, wiped off a speck of dust, and put them back on. “You’re falling, hard and fast. You’re...going to bite off more than you can chew if you keep this up.”

Dane cleared his throat, trying desperately to figure out what to say. Still, nothing came; at least nothing that he felt was suitable.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Son.” The old man turned toward him, his tone serious, demanding a response, something that would put his mind at ease.

“Fr. Kirkpatrick, she is just a friend. Nothing has transpired that would be deemed inappropriate. She has been helpful regarding my grief, I’ll admit to that, and she is a good person.”

Another brief pause.

“I see...” It was apparent Fr. Kirkpatrick wasn’t pleased with his response, but seemed to expect it.

“I believe you, Dane, but you and I both know...that’s how it starts. You already know this in your heart, that this is how it begins.”

“She is not trying to get me to do anything.” Dane tried to not sound as if he were upset, but he was and he knew Fr. Kirkpatrick knew it, too. “We just talk about music, movies, books...it’s nothing serious. I just needed the companionship, someone from outside of the parish—a fresh face. It’s not what you think.”

“I understand that, right
now
it isn’t...” The words, dipped in red hot warning, hung in the air.

“And she doesn’t have to try to tempt you,” he added, “you will crave her even more as each day turns into a week, that is how love works. The same love you felt for the Church when you first began, you will have for
her.
It will be just as exhilarating, and you will have the same zest and passion. There is nothing at this point that she needs to do or say. Her mere presence in your life is the issue. For her to just be herself, just sitting there, is enough...”

“With all due respect, Fr. Kirkpatrick, I disagree. You make it seem as if she is a Jezebel, or a wanton temptress. She is...” He looked down at his lap then back up. “She is a person that has a warm, good heart and she has helped me greatly. I believe she was sent to me by God, to be my friend.”

“I’m not making her into a devil.” The old man chuckled. “I’m eighty-seven years old. I’ve been around, Dane. I’ve seen men like you and me fall apart from loneliness, depression. I’ve also seen us fall in love, and then regret it...wishing we’d never opened the Pandora’s box. You’ve been a priest long enough to have heard the stories, too. It happens, and the sap it happens to always says, ‘No, it won’t be me’.”

Dane turned away, wishing he were with her right that moment, instead of sitting there with the scent of popcorn and cinnamon buns floating in the air. The smiling faces of children, knotted expressions of crying babies and vacant stares of husbands holding purses became a blur. None provided any comfort...but
she
did. He was taken aback by his own wayward thoughts, but not enough to stop contemplating them.

“She is a woman, and you are a man and
something
is happening. Whether you two are admitting it to one another or not is beside the point. From the sound of things,” he shot Dane a look, raised white eyebrow and all, “you honestly
believe
what you are saying to me because, right
now,
it is accurate in your mind...yet your heart tells a different tale.”

Dane swallowed and folded his hands together. He wasn’t sure what was going on, actually—and because of that, he didn’t feel he could argue in either direction with the man. He simply began to shut down. Fr. Kirkpatrick looked at him, waiting for a response once again. He received none.

Dane didn’t wish to move forward with the discussion. He teetered the line of trying to remain respectful, demand that his private life be just that, private—and wanting to stand up and walk away, leaving the elder sitting right there on that bench, all alone. He knew the man meant well, but right now, Dane couldn’t stomach it any longer.

What did Fr. Kirkpatrick know? It was a new day and age...men and women could be friends without it turning into more, regardless of a mutual attraction. So what? He and Rhapsody were adults and could practice self-control. He’d already proven that he could in other areas of his priesthood. Didn’t the old man know that?

“I know you think you have this all under control, Dane. You believe you can find her exciting and intriguing, beautiful too, and keep yourself untainted.”

Just great. So now he is reading my mind...

“You are playing with fire. Your soul is on the line. Less importantly, your future, too.” The old man wobbled, rising to his feet. Dane immediately stood and helped him, cupping the man’s elbow.

Yes, finally, let’s go.

Fr. Kirkpatrick’s turned his thin, tall frame toward him, his garb flowing. “Dane, I hate to keep hammering at this, but from your expression and lack of response, I feel compelled. I care for you, that is why I must bring it to your attention. Are you dismissing this, what I’m saying?”

“I’m not. I simply don’t believe you understand the situation in the manner that you believe you do, but I respect your opinion and thank you for sharing your insight with me.” He’d sounded cold and stiff, the words snappish with faux gratitude.