Regret Me Not (16 page)

Chapter 17

Preparations

Brayden's mother must have pulled serious strings because on December twenty-sixth we have an appointment with Father Mario. Aside from the guilt I carry with me like a blanket, I feel doubly bad because I know he has better things do, like recover from the Christmas festivities. Isn't that the church's cash cow? I can't imagine meeting with us is at the top of his to-do-list.

Brayden gets out of the car and comes around to open my door.

"You really don't have to do that. I'm not so fat and helpless that I can't open a door."

"You'll never be fat and helpless. That's not why I do it. I do it because it's polite, and I love you. To me you're royalty. My Irish princess. And that means I want to wait on you hand and foot, not that I think you can't fend for yourself. I know you can do it, but why should you have to."

"You're not the least bit nervous are you?"

He shakes his head and extends his hand to help me out of the car. "Milady," he places his arm at waist level before he bends over, offering me a bow.

"When I start telling you jump and expect you to ask how high, I'll have to remind you of this conversation."

"No need to remind me, that's the way it's been going since the night I drove you to the hospital."

I shove his arm. Brayden grabs it making believe he's hurt.

"Please, please don't beat me," he teases pretending to cower in fear.

"Seriously, how the hell are you so calm and playful?"

Taking my hand in his, he leans over as we approach the front door of the rectory. "I don't think you should use the "H" word on holy grounds. It might buy you a one way ticket there," he teases.

I glare at him.

"I'm happy, Kenzie. Haven't you figured it out by now? The only time I'm truly happy is when I'm with you."

*

Father Mario isn't some white or gray haired old man. He looks rather young, for a priest. In fact he's the youngest priest I've ever seen. Although he's dressed in black, except for the white collar, he's not at all mean or menacing looking. He even smiles at us, and I wonder if Brayden's mother left out the most important detail leading to our upcoming nuptials.

"Hey, Brayden," Father Mario stands and reaches across the desk in front of him to shake our hands. "It's good to see you. It's been so long, I almost forgot what you looked like."

Brayden looks down, and I see a hint of embarrassment on his face. "Sorry, with school and everything, I haven't been home much.

The priest turns his gaze on me. I'm not sure if it’s my imagination or not, but I feel like a heat lamp was turned on above my head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mackenzie. I hope this is the first of many meetings between us."

"Hi." Seems to be the only word I can utter.

Either he has no clue that I'm pregnant or he's trying to butter me up so I'll be more accepting of the fire and brimstone sermon that's sure to come. Either way, I'm dreading what's coming next.

"Don't look so excited to be here," he teases. At least I hope he's teasing.

"Don't mind her, she doesn't believe in anything," Brayden explains with a smirk on his face.

I can't believe he just said that.
To a priest!
The priest we're supposed to convince to marry us. Mortified I raise my hand to my forehead and shield my eyes from view. I can't believe Brayden just threw me under the bus.

"Quite often people don't want to believe because then they have to make conscious decisions about their life and the kind of person they want to be."

I can't keep my mouth shut any longer. "Brayden is wrong. It's not that I don't believe in anything. It's that my beliefs are different from yours, and I don't really think I'm the type of person you want in your church."

"Personally I hope everyone comes to church. It makes me happy when I look out at the congregation and see all the new and old faces. But I am curious, what would make you think you're not welcome in church?"

Okay, enough pussyfooting around. It's time to acknowledge the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room. I clear my throat and gather my courage. This is the first time I'm actually going to say it out loud with conviction. "I'm pregnant."

He smiles. Really? That's his first reaction? I know he's a priest, but still, he is a grown man, he must understand
how
that happened.

"And you think that makes you somehow unworthy of love? Of being part of our congregation and family?"

I shrug. "I guess."

"Mackenzie, everyone is worthy of love, and everyone is welcome here."

This guy can't be for real. He's nothing at all like the priests my parents told me about when they grew up. Or the ones I encountered when I went to religious instructions as a kid. I glance over at Brayden as he takes my hand in his.

I'm not sure why I even say it; it's not that I even believe it. I think I just want to knock this guy off his game and prove he isn't all that, and neither is his beloved church. "What if my idea of God is very different that yours?"

His eyes narrow a bit as his eyebrows come together, "Different how?"

"What if I think God is really an alien?"

He leans back in his chair folding his hands together under his chin, and takes a deep breath.

"I guess when you think of it, God isn't of this world, so technically that would make him an alien wouldn't it?"

Did I just challenge this priest by saying I think God is an alien? And he didn't throw me out on my ass? Father Mario and Brayden continue talking. I lose focus of what they're saying, still trying to understand why I reacted the way I did. I promised Brayden I'd marry him in a church if they allowed us, but I said nothing about trying to sabotage our chances.

After a few minutes, Brayden stands and shakes Father Mario's hand. "Thank you, Father."

"No worries." He hands Brayden a small piece of paper. "As soon as you get it done, bring in your certificate and I want an essay from each of you. I understand the importance of wanting to give your child a family, but I want to make sure that's not the only reason you're here."

Essay? Certificate? He's giving us homework? Seriously?

"Don't forget, Mackenzie. Writing about Brayden's weaknesses are just as important as his strengths. If you can't acknowledge that he isn't perfect now, it is bound to all fall apart. The same goes for you, Brayden."

Father Mario shakes my hand again, and pulls Brayden in for a pat on the back before we leave.

*

We're silent on the ride home. I know Brayden must be angry at the way I baited the priest. I'm not even sure why I did it. I just don't believe, and I don't like people judging me, especially when they don't know me. Isn't that a priest's job? Isn't that in essence who he is and what he's about?

Brayden parks the car but he doesn't move. His fingers are still holding tight to the steering wheel. The tension is thick, and I know I have to fix this.

"I'm sorry, Brayden."

He shakes his head before looking at me, and memories of the night of the Homecoming Dance bubble up to the surface of my subconscious.

"Please look at me." I can hear fear straining my voice.

He turns to me and finally releases the steering wheel so he can hold my face in his hands. "We don't have to get married in a church. We don't even have to get married." His voice is kind, not at all angry like he was after the dance, so why is he trying to back out?

"What are you saying?"

He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine. "I'm saying that I love you, and maybe I pushed for too much. Maybe you don't really want any of this."

My hands cover his, "Of course I do. I love you. I'm sorry I acted like an ass. I promise it won't happen again."

"Mackenzie Green, I love you and I promise to be by your side through everything, but I don't want you to think that means you have to sell your soul. You are the most important person in my life, and if getting married is too much to ask, then I don't want to do it."

"I do. I
want
to marry you."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"In a church?"

I nod. The truth is, I think it's great that he has something to believe in. While it might not be my way, I believe his faith is what gets him through the rough patches. I have none. Except maybe in him. One hand drops to my belly and I rub it. That's what I want for my baby. I want it to have hope and faith. 

*

At home I find my mother and Jessica busy in the kitchen baking. I don't say anything before the loud clanking of an aluminum pan falling to the floor startles me.

"Son of a bi. . ." My mother stops herself mid word when she looks up and sees us.

"Oh, hi there. The Turners will be joining us for dessert later tonight."

Some time while we were out, my mother thought it would be a good idea to call Brayden's mother and invite his family over. Wonderful. That'll be a nice warm joining of the families. I can see it now, both of our fathers joining together in a tirade of how we ruined each other's life.

"Don't look so excited," Jessica teases.

"Wait. Someday you'll be the one dreading the moment the families meet."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that would first mean dating, and since I have no life, and I'm under house arrest, I don't see it happening in the near future."

"How did it go?" my mother asks.

"Well, after first explaining that she doesn't believe in God, Kenzie went on about how she believes God is an alien."

"You didn't!" Jess seems shocked.

"Oh, yes. She did."

"See I knew you weren't okay with it."

He wraps his arms around my waist, "It's okay, I'll deal. Just please no more alien talk with Father Mario."

"Come on, Kenzie," Jess says. "You don't say anything like that out loud. Even I have more brains than that."

"Jessica," my mother scolds. "You are an incredibly intelligent young woman."

Jess is taken back by my mother's comment. Neither of my parents have said anything like that to her in ages. Usually they say things along the lines of, "How stupid can you be?" Maybe there really is something to what Brayden said about being on the path we are destined for.

"Okay, we have homework . . ."

"Homework?" Jessica asks.

I nod. "And since I made a less than stellar first impression, I want to get this right. We'll be up in my room."

"Door open, Kenzie. The damage may already be done, but the rules are still in effect."

"I know."

*

Brayden and I spend a few hours answering questions on the online course we're supposed to take. There are three parts: we each have to complete one on our own, and work on one together. It's supposed to encourage discussions about our long term goals and how we plan to handle our life together. We are given situational questions about money, children, and life in general. Brayden kneels beside me as we answer the questions. I look over at him and wonder how I could have been so dumb and insecure to have broken up with him in the first place. I reach for his hand resting on top of the computer mouse.

"You okay?"

I nod. "I am. I'm just thinking how about how lucky I am, and how much I'll miss you when you leave for school."

He shakes his head. "I'm not going back. I'm not leaving you again."

"But there's time before the baby . . ."

"Forget it. Unless you're having second thoughts."

"Not about us."

"Good. Then the conversation is over."

I give in for now, but the conversation sure as hell isn't over. I just need to pick it up at a better time. Brayden's giving up so much. I want him to have at least one more semester there. I catch him staring at me out of the corner of his eye and rack my brain for something to say; something innocuous to maintain the peace for now.

"So what
will
you say if I spend our whole life savings on a shopping spree?" I refer to the next question we are supposed to discuss.

"It doesn't matter. You'd never do that."

"You're so sure I won’t go out of my mind if I don't have the latest fashion accessories?"

"Yep. The way I see it, you have as much to lose as me. Besides, you're the real deal, not one of those show ponies looking to out strut the rest of the pack."

"You mean like your last girlfriend?"

He turns to me without a word, his mouth open eyes wide, as if I just struck him across the face with my hand.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said it." The guilt in his eyes is making me uneasy. I didn't mean for him to feel bad. I don't know what I meant to do. But I know I want better for him and this isn't going to help my case for him to go back to school. "It's just when you mentioned ponies I thought of a horse, and I had the image in my head, and when I saw the horse's ass, naturally I thought of Alana."