Chapter 14 - Chastity

 

Chapter 14. Chastity

Father Cullen

The rectory is quiet when I get home. Jasper's left the light on in the entry, but he didn't wait up.

I'm grateful, since I still feel a bit intoxicated. That would be awkward.

I'm also humbled by his faith in me.

Faith I wish I had.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Dear Lord, see me through these hard times." I give a drunken man's sign of the cross and utter the prayer of faith quietly as I switch the lights off on my way through the kitchen.

"In these troubling times, I'm filled with fear. I reach out my hand to You now, and ask You to walk beside me." I kick my shoes off at the bottom of the stairs.

"I can't carry these burdens, but I know You can, and will. Walk beside me. Guide me." I pad up the stairs, careful not to step on the loose board in front of the guest bedroom Jasper is using.

"Help me be strong, through trials and storms. Help me hold on to my faith, in even the darkest hour." I sit on the edge of my bed and lean forward, putting my face in my hands.

I whisper the rest. "Stay with me Lord, show me Your way. In Your love and Holy Spirit I abide. Amen."

Even as I finish the prayer, and I know it's what I should be doing, it doesn't feel right.

As I change out of my clothes, I realize, it's because I didn't see tonight as troubling times. I didn't feel like I was struggling through trials and storms or that was carrying a burden.

I wasn't filled with fear.

I had a great time with an amazing woman. Even though, yeah, maybe I feel some lingering guilt, it's not guilt about hanging out with Bella. It's not even about drinking and dancing with her. It's guilt leftover from a childhood where I was taught it's how I should feel.

I try praying again. This time for things I'm truly carrying in my heart.

I thank the Lord for delivering Rose and the baby safely tonight, for Alice's loyalty to her sister, and for the way Charlie loves Bella, with almost no strings attached.

I thank Him for Bella's nonconformist spirit and her open heart, despite the challenges she faces. And I pray for the Swans to open their eyes and see this for the blessing it is. I ask him to take Bella's burden and make her see that she's not to blame for the poor choices others make.

Praying this way settles my heart but not the rest of my body. I still toss and turn. I kick at the blanket and it crosses my mind that maybe I should ask God's forgiveness after all. But when I try, I find it impossible. No words come to my mind.

Instead, I thank Him for making this evening possible. And I thank Him for placing Bella in my path. Without her, I would never have taken a night to just be Edward.

As I think back over each part of the night Bella and I spent together, I remember the piece of the song Emily played for me.

Bella uploaded it yesterday. She mentioned it in confession.

I wrote this song. Don't know if God's cheering me on about it.

And from what I heard, Bella was right. It is blasphemous. And it's also good. Really fucking good, as a matter of fact.

I don't know about God, but I'm certainly cheering her on.

The snippet Emily played was just a hymn, but the way Bella sang it was practically profane.

Were there other lyrics?

I roll over and pick up my cell phone. I spend roughly twenty minutes searching before I find Bella's profile on SoundCloud. She's prolific. There are dozens and dozens of tracks going back more than five years, and the most recent upload was from yesterday.

Called Lust.

I play it. It's a longer version of the same hymn, but it's still too quick. So I set it up to play on loop and I lay back down, letting it drown my thoughts.

Her voice is haunting. I've known these words since I was a kid. Latin. English. Back and forth. It's like she's touching every inch of my body with her voice.

And fuck, I wish she was.

I don't know if I've ever wanted anything more.

I close my eyes and I see her again.

I see her eyes as she laughs.

Her bare shoulder.

Her lips.

Her hands.

I think about the way her body felt against mine when we danced.

Okay when she danced.

And I grin, thinking about how happy she seemed when I held her in my arms. Dear God, I want to affect her like that again. The way Mike didn't. The way Ben didn't.

I imagine this is another bedroom, and I'm just Edward again. Then I imagine all the ways I could possibly make her smile.

xXxXx

At breakfast I'm dying. I can't even look at an egg, much less cook one.

Jesus, please let this pain in my head be a bad dream.

Coffee is out of the question.

"You don't look so good, must have been one Hell of a visitation last night," Jasper says, pulling open the fridge and grabbing the orange juice.

Blech.

I point at him and avoid his question. "Hell again? You're forming a bad habit, Jasper."

I shuffle to the pantry and look for something bland and bread-ish.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks, ignoring my bait about Hell.

I shake my head. "Later, maybe."

I'm not just avoiding the inevitable. It literally hurts to speak.

He nods. "I've got some appointments over at St. Michael's. I'll catch up with you later?"

"Sounds good." I'm thankful for the promise of some peace but not so keen about talking later.

"Hey Edward?" He shrugs on his jacket.

"Yep?"

"'Nothing is covered up that won't be revealed or hidden that will not be known.'"

And yeah. He knows.

xXxXx

I make it into the office with just five minutes to spare. My head's still pounding. My stomach lurches with any sudden movement. I find an old bottle of Aleve in a desk drawer and wash a couple down with a liter of water. I've got Angela and Ben's final marriage counseling session stretching like an endless hour ahead of me, and I don't think I'll get through without some assistance.

I put my head down and close my eyes and curse the nausea.

Then I think about holding Bella in my arms, and it was almost worth it.

Definitely worth it.

"Are you alright, Father?" I hear Angela ask from the doorway. "Should I come back?"

I try to ignore the way my head pounds when I pick it up from the desk. "No no. Come in." I wave a hand, and she tentatively steps into the office. I wait for Ben to follow, but he's nowhere in sight.

"How are you this morning? Where's Ben?"

"He's not coming." She takes a seat and studies her hands in her lap.

"Because you need a one-on-one session?"

She shakes her head and dabs at the corner of her eyes. Then looks up and smiles bravely. "He forgot. And now he has some other plans."

Thank you, God.

"Angela, it's okay. We can reschedule. There's plenty of-"

"Golfing! He's golfing while we're supposed to be talking about our marriage. With our priest."

And now she's crying.

I walk around to the other side of my desk and sit in the seat where Ben should be. I hand her a tissue and silently pray I won't be sick.

"I've seen this kind of thing happen before," I tell her.

She looks up at me hopefully, like with just a few words of scripture all of her fiancé's actions could suddenly make sense in the eyes of the Lord. I'm a priest, though, and a hungover priest at that. I'm not a magician. Ben needs to show willingness to change before this can be put right.

"Sometimes, men like Ben…" I cough.

"Unmarried men?" Angela asks.

"Unmarried men, right. Some unmarried men might forget to take their partner into consideration... sometimes."

Ow. My head.

"It's like he doesn't even want to be here today." She sniffs. "With me."

"Can I ask you a question, Angela?"

She blows her nose. "I guess."

"Are you happy in your relationship?"

Angela starts crying all over again. Harder this time.

I was expecting her to say yes and smile. It never crossed my mind she was anything less than content.

I reach for her hand and she holds on tight. She blows her nose into the tissue.

"Do you want to marry Ben?"

"You don't understand!" Jesus Christ, please make her stop shouting.

"We have the rest of the hour. Explain it to me."

"Father, I have to marry him." She looks desperate… and sad.

"It's never too late to change your mind," I tell her. "Marriage is a sacrament. You should be certain it's what you want."

"I have to marry him," Angela insists again.

"No, you-"

"I'm pregnant."

"-don't have to..." Wait. "What?"

It could be the hangover. I might have heard her wrong. Either way, is this the same woman who was just judging Bella for drinking with her priest?

When Angela sees my expression, she scoots as far away from me as she can without getting up out of her chair. Without dropping my hand.

I remind myself she's one of God's children.

"I'm pregnant." She sniffles and takes a deep breath then looks me steadily in the eye. "I'm sorry, Father. I know it's a sin. We shouldn't have… you know. And we shouldn't have kept this from you."

We? "Ben knows?"

Where is that bottle of Aleve?

"Of course. It's why…" And then she stops herself. Tears stream down her cheeks as she pulls her hand from mine, checks her phone, and angrily texts someone.

"I see."

It's worse than I thought.

I spot exactly what I need sitting on the other side of the desk and reach for it. I struggle with the childproof top. Apparently it's hangover-proof as well.

"Everything was fine until Bella showed up."

"Excuse me?" And now I'm certain I heard her wrong.

"Don't let her fool you, Father. I warned Mom what was going to happen, but she swore we had to invite her."

"You blame Bella… for all of this?" I sigh. I pop two Aleve in my mouth. "Would you like to expand on that reasoning?"

"She's always taken everything from me, Father, since we were kids. Teacher's attention. My parent's attention. Ben. Like there's no room for anyone else when she's there. And the more she pushes people away, the more they want her!" Angela throws her hands into the air and looks heavenward, like she's asking God himself for an explanation.

"Angela." Lord help me deliver this advice with the least bit of harshness possible.

She looks at me. Her eyes are red. Her nose is red. Her lips are quivering.

I start with a simple question, taking the same example Jasper gave me the other night.

"When Adam took a bite of the apple in Eden, who did he blame?"

"Eve." She sniffs again.

"Was that fair?"

"No," she says, somewhat defiantly. "He totally threw her under the bus because he didn't want to get thrown out of the garden, but it was his doing, all by him-" She stops before finishing the thought. "self."

I give her a moment to let what she just said sink in.

"But if Eve hadn't given it to him-" she starts to tell me, but I have to stop her this time.

"I don't think you really believe that."

She can't answer me. I didn't expect her to.

"Just like I don't think you really believe your sister is to blame for Ben's shortcomings. And she certainly isn't to blame for your pregnancy."

"But you were here every week counseling me and Ben. You can see how it's all gone to Hell now that-" Angela's eyes go wide and she covers her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, Father."

"For blaming Bella?"

"For saying He… ell," she finishes in a whisper. "I let my anger get the best of me."

"I don't give a damn about Hell, Angela."

"Father!"

I bow my head but not to pray.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping it will help with the headache as well as the nausea. And I try to gather my thoughts.

"I'm fairly certain," I begin, "No, I'm absolutely certain Bella isn't the reason things aren't fine with you and Ben."

"We were getting married, Father. Having a child together. My dream."

"You were lying to your priest."

"We never lied."

I narrow my eyes. "Do your parents know?"

"Mom, maybe. Not exactly. She probably has her suspicions. Not Dad."

"Did you think starting out a marriage with lies and self-deceit would be a good foundation for a long, happy life together? For a lifetime of trust?"

Angela starts crying all over again.

"We have no choice, Father. You must know that."

"You always have a choice, Angela. God gave us free will."

"Have you met my family? There are no options here. None." She's dead serious. No more tears. Just sheer determination. "This baby is a sign from God, okay? It's a sign I won't ignore."

"A sign you're not willing to share with your parents," I remind her.

Angela's eyes go wide. "Dad would kill him."

"I know Charlie well. He's not killing anyone."

"Ben would hate me."

"If Ben hated you for seeking guidance from your family, you'd have bigger problems to worry about than having a baby with him."

"I'm going to marry him. We're going to be a family. We have to be."

"And I am going to need to see both you and Ben here in my office, and we need to talk openly and honestly about all of this if that's going to happen. You and Ben need to stand in truth before the Lord. I won't marry you under any other terms. Do you understand?"

Angela bows her head. "Yes, Father."

Thank God. I don't know how much more of this conversation I can get through today.

I sit next to her and bow my head, too. I ignore the nail I'm sure is being driven between my eyes. And we pray.

For God to guide Angela and give her strength.

For Ben to humble himself before Angela, their parents, and the Lord.

For the health of their unborn child, whose mere existence is unwittingly bringing Angela and Ben together at the same time it's tearing Angela up inside.

After she leaves, I collapse into my chair. I don't want to let my disappointment in Ben harden my heart toward him. Really. I don't. It's not my place to judge. That's His job. My job, if I can get past this hangover, is to guide these two and help them to walk in the Lord if they're going to insist on going through with the marriage.

Then I think of Bella. And how she blames herself for… all of this.

No way in Hell she knows Angela's pregnant. If she did, I'm sure her friend Edward would have known by now.

Despite any of it, and because my head aches too much to think it through, I need to leave it with God and get some work done today. I have a list of parishioners I need to call, home visits I need to schedule, and a meeting with the deacon who leads St. Mary's homeless ministry. But between every call and after each meeting, I find myself glancing toward the doorway, hoping to find Bella smiling playfully down at me.

In fact, I find myself surfing the Internet, looking for upcoming shows, daydreaming about Bella and her friend Edward going out again. Dancing again. Holding her hand. Making her smile all night long.

I still have a lingering headache when my cell buzzes sometime after noon. I'm tired. I'm dehydrated despite drinking countless bottles of water. But none of that matters when I see who's sent me a text.

HEY. How's things?

I lean back in my chair and smile like an idiot. I decide I deserve a break from all things Church related.

Not good - my head hasn't hurt this bad since I was ordained and celebrated with a case of Miller High Life

srsly? Miller High Life? :-/

It was a long time ago. I knew not what i did

You poor lost soul. Sorry about the hangover tho - she quickly replies.

Of course she is. I laugh as I send her my response.

Drink. LOLOLOL

On it. Angela was evil this morning.

There's no doubt Angela is wrong to take things out on Bella, but I can't help but feel for her now that I know the pressure she's under.

Cut her some slack? Just a suggestion

Noooo. She got to you too?

I understand where Bella's coming from, but still I try again.

You remember the golden rule right?

She doesn't respond. And I imagine her there, rolling her eyes. I grin as I text it to her.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?

Bella's reply is quick this time. Maybe she needs her priest. He's apparently really good at that kind of thing.

Maybe her priest was already there for her ;-) - I type and hit send.

Of course he was. Drink, you Godly son of a …

I have to laugh. I'm working, Bella.

The laughter hurts. But I'm completely fine with it.

Ugh. Well then maybe she needs her fiancé. Who keeps texting me btw. Wants to talk

I debate my next piece of advice.

On one hand, I want to be a good friend. One who encourages her to tell this guy to fuck off. But on the other hand, I know that's not the way to righteousness.

And maybe Ben is plagued with guilt, himself.

He has plenty to apologize for. Maybe you should consider letting him unburden himself.

I wait. And wait.

And wait.

Bella?

Then finally… Maybe.

I add - He does have a lot on his plate these days

I watch bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again. And I wonder if I'm right. Or if I'm getting it all wrong.

Well, Angela is a piece of work. I can commiserate with him for sure.

Bearing each other's burdens fulfills the law of Christ you know. I immediately regret sounding like I'm giving her a lecture.

First of all, I'm not bearing Ben's anything.

Second - You owe me two drinks, buddy

I grin again. But honestly, I want to throw up just thinking about it.

Put it on my tab - I'll pay it when I'm no longer in poverty.

LOL hey, thanks for last night - she types. I needed some normal before heading back out on tour.

My head spins. I'm not sure if it's from of the hangover or because I forgot she won't be here much longer.

Regardless, Thank YOU.

Are you Edward right now? Or Father Edward?

It's a good question. I give it some real thought before I reply.

Both?

Does that get confusing?

And it probably should. It doesn't feel confusing today.

Maybe you're still drunk.

I laugh.

Entirely possible

Another endless minute goes by before I get her next text.

I'll add this to my list for my next confession. Just wait. It's going to be a really good one.

And it momentarily stops my breathing altogether.

I think about her last visit. Then about her song. The words. The way she invaded my dreams last night. I don't have a quippy comeback for her this time.

Looking forward to it.

Because I'll take time with her any way I can get it.

Cool. See you around, Father. Also Edward.

Dear God, let it be so.