Chapter 10 - Sanctuary

 

Chapter 10. Sanctuary

Father Cullen

It's been a long day.

Longer than most.

I'm exhausted.

People have been in and out of the office and I'm happy to help them. I am. But Jasper's also sharing an office with me. He's been mulling. And hovering. And praying very earnestly with me, asking God to guide me in my time of need.

And it seems to be doing more harm than good, considering how much it has me thinking about Bella and her absence after the homily today. It's been weighing on me.

Did I offend her? I probably overstepped with the tale of the prodigal son. I definitely stole too many glances in her direction.

"I won't be back late. Promise," Jasper says, as he gets ready to meet with some of the deacons for dinner.

I try not to feel too relieved that I'll have some privacy.

I try not to feel downright giddy about it, as a matter of fact.

After he's left the building I walk through the church, turning down lights and locking rooms. Back in the office, I'm grateful I still keep a stash of street clothes. I swap the clerical clothing I've been in most of the day for some jeans and an old t-shirt. Then I reach for the wine I also keep stashed.

With the first sip, I stretch out at my desk, put in my AirPods and find my most recent playlist.

As Hozier sings, I let the music wash the day away. I let my mind settle.

I tell myself there's a reason my thoughts have been straying. Maybe I haven't prayed enough, or hard enough. Maybe I haven't honored Him enough.

Maybe Jasper's right. Maybe I need to take myself out of temptation's way. And maybe the travel would do me some good.

A new song plays and I find myself wondering if Bella would like this one. What she's like up on stage in front of her fans. Is she hard core rock or more mellow?

Why did she need time off? And why does she need to figure out her entire life before going back?

Fuck. I close my eyes and try to seek His forgiveness, but the words won't come.

I take the AirPods out, frustrated, then bow my head.

"Hear me, dammit," I practically demand. Then I take a breath and remind myself what Ecclesiastes says.

Be not quick in your spirit to become angry.

And I dutifully change my tune.

"Show me the way, Lord."

"The way to where?"

I look up and there's Bella, standing in the doorway and smiling mischievously. It's like she was dropped there by God himself, just to test me. Or torment me.

I glance upward.

This is not answering my prayer.

I lean back in the chair and I smile back at her because, regardless of whether she's a test or a torment, I'm happy to see her.

"Is Alice feeling better?"

She shakes her head, smirking. "Always avoiding my questions."

She's not wrong. She's magnetic. And I can't seem to look away.

Jesus help me. Here I am, making this inappropriate, when she's likely here for guidance.

"I was asking God to show me the way to righteousness," I tell her. It's basically an honest answer.

She hums as she gives me a good once over. "I don't think you have to worry about righteousness. You were really good up there this morning. Extremely righteous, in my unprofessional opinion."

I know it's completely inappropriate to tell her I was sitting here thinking about her. About how it feels like she sees every stain on my soul when she looks at me like that. Or that I've been begging the Lord God our Saviour to save me from her.

"You missed communion," I say instead, coming out from behind the desk, leaving my piles of work behind.

"You noticed?" She seems genuinely surprised.

I take a seat on the edge of my desk. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"You're everyone's priest. You're not just there for me." And I'm not sure who she's trying to convince.

"True. Still, I noticed." I smile and tell myself I would have noticed if anyone else had been missing too, that she's no different from any of my other parishioners.

In other words, I lie.

"Does it get tiring?" she asks. "Always having to notice things like that. Always being a priest?"

"God gives me strength to do what needs to be done." Please God, give me the strength I need now. "But to answer your question..." I shrug. "I kind of enjoy it."

"So, it's what you do for fun?"

We both laugh, breaking some of the tension in the room.

"I guess you could say that."

"You and your friends get together and just… priest out?"

"Consider yourself lucky you didn't show up after two or three of these." I pick my drink up and finish it off.

Bella begins to glance around the room like she's searching for evidence of these so-called friends. Or she's probably picturing me, priesting out here, all alone. Then she looks over at me, thinking, with her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment.

I catch myself staring at her mouth and look away.

She peeks over at the wall, at old photos of other priests and deacons gathered for church events over the years. "Can you even have friends? I mean, friends who aren't other priests. Or friends you don't have to take care of in a priestly way?"

She says priestly like it's a sin. And I'm going to Hell.

I might be going to Hell.

I clear my throat. "To the best of my knowledge, yeah. Why?"

"So you can just, I don't know, hang out if you want to?" At first she seems to be teasing, but something in her expression changes. She's not teasing me. She's sincere.

I swallow. "Are you asking me to hang out with you, Bella?"

She looks like my question caught her off guard. "Maybe? Yes? I wasn't... I mean, with that Captain America tee instead of the collar, you almost look like a normal person."

I cross my arms, suddenly aware that without the clerical clothing or priestly robes I'm just the geeky guy who's seen one too many Marvel movies.

"Like a friend, I mean," she says quickly. "Like a normal friend who hangs out with other friends."

Bella shakes her head and tries to hide the way she's smiling with her hand. "Christ," she mutters under her breath. She looks out into the hallway. At her shoes. Then she finally looks me in the eye.

She's blushing. And it suits her.

I nod and grin, attempting to mask how self conscious I feel. "I could probably take the rest of the night off to be a normal friend."

I pour myself another drink and realize I'm being rude. I hold the glass up. "A friend would probably offer you some wine."

The lift in her brow says it all. She definitely wants a drink. She's also unsure if she should accept.

"This is usually where I'd make an excuse to leave, just to be on the safe side." She glances around the office again.

"Bella, if you don't -"

"I guess a priest's office is pretty safe, all things considered? Don't have to worry about my new friend getting handsy. Right?"

Bella seems horrified. Or nervous. Or nervously horrified.

Not that she should worry. She shouldn't.

She definitely shouldn't worry about her normal priest friend getting handsy.

Fuck.

Jesus Christ. Stop me from thinking about getting handsy.

"You sure I'm not interrupting anything?" she asks. She walks along the wall and drags a finger over the spines of books like she's checking out my taste in religious philosophy.

"Are you kidding? I could use a break from answering emails."

"Then I guess I'll have what you're having," she says, and I head for the closet to grab another glass. I steal a quiet moment alone to gather my wits. Then I breathe, and pray.

I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

Which means I can do this. I can be Bella's friend. Her very non-handsy, normal friend.

"So…" Bella asks as I duck out of the closet. "Do your friends all call you Father? Could I just call you Edward, maybe? Ed? Or Eddie?"

"First of all..." I pour a glass and hand it to her. "Never, ever call me Eddie."

She smirks. "Only if we're fighting. Got it."

"Secondly," I clink her glass with mine. "I'd be honored for you to call me Edward." I lower my voice. "Maybe not in front of the congregation." Then I drink half of my wine down.

"Okay… Edward."

My breath catches and my stomach tightens. When I agreed to be friends on a first name basis, maybe it was naive, but I didn't expect it to feel so intimate. At the same time, I want to hear her say it again. My name. Her lips. I imagine myself asking her just that - to call me Edward one more time.

I give the door a look. And ignore the urge to close it.

"Is this really okay? I don't want to get you in trouble." Bella seems sincerely worried. So am I.

"Fellowship is a necessity for all God's children," I assure her.

"You're still talking like a priest, you know."

"Sorry, habit," I tell her, embarrassed a bit.

"It's cool. I've got some strange friends. You'd probably fit right in with the rest of us oddballs."

I try to picture it - hanging out with Bella's musician friends with a collar around my neck and a drink in my hand like it was any other day of the week.

In another life, maybe.

I finish off my glass and fill it again and I try to put some space between us. Anything to try to focus on why God might have actually brought her here, and how I might be able to help.

"What about you?" she asks, interrupting the thought, stepping a little closer. My office is small. There's not much room.

"Me?"

"I'm guessing your friends probably wouldn't approve." She takes another sip and another step. The air between us is electric.

"Jasper likes you. I mean Bishop Whitlock. He likes your whole family, in fact."

Bella grins. "I had a feeling you two were more than co-workers."

"He knows me better than anyone. Better than myself."

"Wow. The stories he could tell." With another step, I can see the flecks of brown in Bella's eyes. I can see the tiny freckles over the bridge of her nose.

"Not very fitting for a priest, I'm afraid." My voice is quiet. I should back away, but I can't. Not unless I crawl over the desk.

"But as one of my friends…Promise me you'll tell me a story one day? A very un-priestly one?"

My cheeks burn when she says it. I hate to think how her opinion of me would change if I told her some of the stunts I used to pull. But oddly enough, I find myself wanting to tell her all of it. "Promise."

"Also, I have so many questions." Her eyes glitter with anticipation. "I know this might surprise you, but I've never had a priest as a friend."

I take another drink. "Ask me anything."

Bella laughs... And laughs. It's contagious even though I have no idea what's so funny. Suddenly she's leaning a hand on my chest for support. My heart beats a little faster, and then I don't really care why we're laughing. After a moment, she wipes tears from her eyes. When she looks up at me, the laughter dies in her throat, and she falls into one of the leather chairs in front of my desk.

I sit down in the chair next to her and try to calm down. To act like a normal person. A regular friend.

"I can't ask you anything… yet," she says, trying not to grin. "We only just became friends like two minutes ago."

I try not to consider what that anything is referring to.

"Let's start simple, maybe." She takes a sip of her wine. "Have you always wanted to be a priest? I legit can't even imagine something like that."

"Wanted is a strong word," I tell her. "But it was a pretty clear path since about the end of high school. When I thought about other options, nothing else made as much sense."

"I get that. Sometimes you just know."

"Did you always know you wanted to be a rock star?"

She laughs again. "I'm no rock star."

"I didn't say you were." I lean in a little. "I asked if you wanted to be one."

Bella's cheeks pink and she ducks her head like she's embarrassed. "Fair enough. And, um, no, but a girl's gotta get paid, right? I've been writing songs for as long as I can remember. Before I could write, I just sang them all day long. Drove Mom nuts."

I can very easily picture this. And it makes me smile. Again. "If I keep my promise to tell you a story, will you sing for me someday?"

"You know my songs are online? Like, priests have WiFi, right?"

"I'll have to remember that," I tell her. And I know I'm still smiling. Enough that my cheeks practically ache. That's just how it is when she's around.

"Maybe if your un-priestly story's really juicy it'll earn you a live performance... No promises."

She laughs again.

And I laugh with her for a moment, before turning more serious. Because I'd give her anything she asks. As her priest. And as her friend.

"Juicy it is, then," I tell her with a wink.

Somehow it's like all the air is sucked from the room as Bella and I watch one another. Bella shakes her head, like she's trying to break the spell I didn't know I'd cast, but I'm caught. I can't look away.

"I can't tell if you're oblivious or if you're flirting. But you're killing me here," she says very quietly.

I'm killing her. And she's bringing my entire body to life.

"So," I attempt to redirect the conversation. Because we're just friends. "Do you want to tell me why you're here?"

"Truth?" she asks.

"I may be off duty but I'm still a priest. So yes. Truth."

Bella fiddles with her wine glass then steals a glance in my direction. "I felt guilty for getting Alice drunk, so I offered to drop off the stuff she set aside for the food pantry. And then I saw your light. And I'm nosy."

Guilt… I may be here as her friend, but as a Catholic priest I deal with this all the time. I decide to let my work life bleed into my personal life.

"Let me ask you a question."

She arches an eyebrow. "As your friend, I'm under no obligation to answer."

Bella always does this. She always gives herself a way out, like she's protecting herself. I wonder what's made her build up these walls. And I want her to know she doesn't need them when she's around me.

"Why do you think you're responsible for Alice's actions?"

"Easy. When was the last time you saw Alice drunk?"

Two can play the answering a question with a question game. "When was the last time you saw Alice do anything she didn't want to do?" I counter. "And as your priest, I should tell you there are no wrong answers, but as your friend who's had a couple glasses of wine… the answer is never."

Bella narrows her eyes. "Maybe. But still -"

"You're going to take the blame for it anyway. Aren't you?"

Bella shrugs and gulps her wine. "Ask almost anyone in my family, Father… I mean Edward. I promise you, they'll be happy to take my side on this."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Bella, but your family? Your parents, your sisters? They fuck up too. We all fuck up."

"Fuck?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"It's just a word," I tell her, echoing my conversation with Jasper. "But I think you're missing the point."

She hides behind her wine glass, but I can see the color rise on her cheeks. "If you want me to pay attention, maybe don't throw around the word…" Bella bites her lip and peeks at me out of the corner of her eye. "...fuck," she whispers.

And Christ. I need to stop staring at her lips.

I clear my throat. "Fair enough." For the first time, I have an idea why this word might make people uncomfortable. "Maybe we'll keep it off the table for the two of us. As friends."

"Yeah, you do not want to go there with me." Then she seems to remember where she is and who she's with. "Of course, I mean. Your day job and all. Not gonna happen."

"Right," I agree with her because… fuck. "Where were we?"

"Well, I can tell you what we weren't doing."

Part of me thinks she's doing this purely as a defense mechanism. Part of me thinks it's just a natural reflex. And part of me thinks she's doing it on purpose. That she likes playing like this, with me.

I should probably change the subject. Again.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Jesus, two questions in one night?"

I raise my eyebrows. She's mocking me again.

"Shit! Jesus. Sorry."

"I think we might have the makings of a drinking game, here. Every time you say you're sorry-"

"You need to stop acting so normal," she says, giving my knee a playful shove. "I forget about you and Jesus, for Christ's sake. I'm going to need more wine if you want another answer."

I think we both need more wine.

"Why didn't you stay for communion today?" I ask as I refill her glass then mine.

Bella shrugs. "I thought about it," she says, and the pink from her cheeks seems to spread over the bridge of her nose. She studies the glass of wine in her hands before looking me in the eye. "I don't believe in it anymore."

"But you came to mass."

"Truth?" she asks me again.

"Still a priest, so…" I nod.

"I came for you. I've never wanted to listen to any other priest ever."

My voice catches in the back of my throat and my mind goes blank for a split second. It's not what I expected to hear her say.

I don't know what I expected.

It's good though, I tell myself. It's what every priest wants to hear, right?

And I do. But it's more than that.

"I'm glad you came," I tell her. "I'm glad you're here, Bella."

It's the best I can give her because I can't exactly say why I'm glad. I can't tell her that being around her makes me the happiest I've been in years or that if it was up to me, I'd find excuses to be around her every hour of every day.

"I'm glad I'm here too. Thanks," she says.

As we sit there, staring into each other's eyes like this, I remind myself that she's here because she thinks I'm a good priest. She's here because she needs the guidance of a man of God, not a man who would like nothing more than to lean forward, just a bit, and take her face in his hands and kiss her softly on the lips.

Bella clears her throat and stands. "I... guess I should get going. Mom hates it when we're late for Sunday dinner. She'd never let me hear the end of it."

I stand up too. "You could tell her it was my fault."

She shakes her head as she gazes up at me. "No, I couldn't. Mom thinks you're perfect."

"Bella-"

"But I'd tell her no one's perfect. And remind her she fucks up too sometimes. And then I'd blame it on a friend. See? I'm learning, Edward."

"You might want to consider using a different word though."

"Which word?" she asks with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Perfect?"

I chuckle to myself. "Yes. Perfect."

For a moment I'm not sure what to do here. Do I shake her hand? Clap her on the shoulder like I would with Jasper?

Before I can decide, Bella's doing it for me. She wraps her arms around me, pulls me close and rests her cheek against my shoulder. I feel tense and clumsy at first, but then my hands find their way around her too.

It's not like I've never hugged a parishioner before, but it never feels like this. This feels easy… and right… and wrong, all at the same time.

Complete.

I relax into her, breathing her in. Her hair tickles my face. Her breasts press against my chest. And I don't want to let her go.

"Thanks for letting me priest out with you," she whispers in my ear. I hold her a little tighter before reminding myself, I need to let her go.

I force myself to take a tentative step back. Hell, I can't even look her in the eye just yet.

"Maybe we could do this again sometime?" she asks.

"Anytime." I nod. "Maybe I'll see you back in my dark, dank box?"

"I wouldn't hold your breath," she teases. Then leaves.

Standing there, watching her go, I exhale long and slow, wondering what in the Hell just happened. Something about Bella puts me completely on edge, but also… it invigorates me. And I'm not quite sure what to do with any of it.

I walk back to my desk, rubbing the back of my neck. I wonder if I said the right things. Or if I helped her at all.

And as I'm wondering, I take a seat. I turn the computer monitor toward me, and I open up YouTube. I type Bella Swan into the search bar and wait to hear one of her songs.