The Consequence of Secrets - Part One (5 page)

The youth center is a run-down building that looks more like a huge cube than an actual building. The white letters that adorn its top few feet of brickwork are weather worn and some are missing so that it says ‘ol sprit yth cente’ instead of ‘Holy Spirit Youth Center’.

It’s red brick with what was once a cream colored edging, and right now, there are blue tarps and scaffolding in some areas that are undergoing repairs. Debris litters the ground as we walk from the car toward the construction, and Father Daniels holds out his hand to me to keep me steady as I step over it all in my heels.

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a slight heat creep over my cheeks at the jolt of attraction I get from his touch. It instantly reminds me of what happened in my mind when I was with Gabe last night, and I remove my hand quickly, feeling quite embarrassed about imagining him that way – especially when I was only admonishing my sister an hour ago for looking at him the same way.

“I thought you were building a
new
youth center?” Jules questions as she skips ahead excitedly, before stopping and looking up at the building. It’s like she’s a small child or a puppy – she’s so full of energy. I notice the way Father Daniels smiles when she speaks, and I wonder if he finds her as attractive as every other man does. I wouldn’t blame him if he did, after all, just as he said in the car – he is still a man.

“No. There’s something to be said for returning something to its former glory, don’t you think?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Isn’t it normally easier to just knock it all down?”

He smiles again and drops his eyes for a moment; obviously amused by her. “Nothing is easy in this world, Jules.”

“Can we go inside?” I ask, stopping beside my sister at the weathered looking painted green door.

He meets my eyes and nods. “Absolutely,” he says softly, reaching into his pocket to produce the key. Just as he slides it into the lock and pops the door open, Jules’s cell begins bleating the latest Rihanna release ‘Bitch better have my money’.

“Shit,” she hisses, pulling it from her purse quickly while apologizing to Father Daniels at the same time. I cover my mouth and stifle a laugh at the inappropriateness of her ringtone as I watch her move to the side to take her call.

“She’s quite a character, your sister,” Father Daniels says, as we stand outside the open door and wait for her.

“That she is,” I smile, looking after her. “I think she’s my favorite person in this world. She has a great love of life inside her.”

“You’re close?” he asks.

Pressing my lips together, I smile wistfully, remembering how things were between Jules and me growing up, right up until I married Gabe a few years ago. Despite our five-year age gap, we’ve always gotten along well. And when our mother died after a long battle with cervical cancer, we grew even closer in our mourning. She was the only one who told me not to get married so young. She wanted me to backpack around the world with her instead. But, I wanted to make my father proud, so I didn’t listen. In hindsight, I wish I had…

“As close as we can be,” I respond, feeling a pang in my chest for the time before. When he doesn’t say anything in return, I turn to face him, and find him standing there, his hands in his pockets as he studies me intently, his head tilted slightly and an expression that feels like he’s perplexed by me.

When he meets my eyes, his expression doesn’t change, in fact, it seems to grow more intense. I can’t explain it, it’s like he’s seeing into my soul or something, and I have to fight to drag my eyes away.

“Come on, Jules, I don’t have all day,” I call out, a nervous edge to my voice as I tap on my watch to remind her I’m on a schedule.

She waves her hand at me dismissively then says, “Go on without me. I’ll catch up when I’m done.”

I eye her for a moment, wondering who it is she’s talking to that is so important that she’d be willing to miss out on spending time flirting with Father Daniels.

Glancing back at him, he holds his hand out in a welcoming gesture. “Shall we?” he says, and after a moment’s hesitation, where I wonder if this is a good idea, I step over the threshold and into the youth center. The moment my foot hits the concrete floor, a chill runs through up my spine, covering my body in raised bumps, giving me the feeling that my life is about to change forever.

“This is going to be where we have a homework club with tutors to help the local kids reach their full potential,” I explain, as I walk Emma through the large building, pointing out the different areas that are designated for education, exercise, fun and relaxation. “We want them to feel like this is a home away from home, and we want parents to feel safe letting their kids hang out here. There are basketball courts out back, and down on the basement level, we found something beneath the floorboards that we didn’t even know was there before.”

“Is it a mummy’s tomb?” she asks in jest, although the comedy in what she says doesn’t reach the tone of her voice as she continues to look around the facilities.

“No,” I laugh. “It’s much better than that. Would you like to see?”

“Am I likely to scream?”

“I doubt it.”

“Then lead the way, Father,” she says, sweeping her hand forward to urge me forward, and for the first time, I find it feels far too formal to be called ‘Father’ and I kind of wish she’s just call me Braden like my friends do. Except we aren’t friends, we’ve barely even met…

When we reach the door that leads to the basement level, I reach back and take her hand, telling myself that it’s for her safety. “These stairs aren’t in the best state of repair,” I explain as we walk carefully down the stairs. And when she grips a little tighter, I ignore the warmth that crawls up my arm, and the slight quickening of my heart, assuring myself that it’s just a general sense of concern for her walking down narrow stairs in heels that has me feeling this way.

Then when we reach the bottom of the stairs, and I release her, I ignore the empty feeling that nags in the center of my palm…

“Are you ready?” I ask, and she nods, looking into the darkness as I flip the switch on the wall. I stand and watch her eyes move about the room as the rows of fluorescent bulbs light up the dark, and I delight in the surprise on her features when she sees our discovery.

“There’s a pool down here?”

“Yes,” I grin. “The contractors say it can be repaired and working by the time summer is here. We can offer free swimming lessons, which I think is so important in a waterside community like this.”

Nodding, she looks around the room, at the concrete walls and the large rectangular pool with a tiled mural embedded into its base. “It’s so beautiful,” she comments, gazing at the replica of the largest stained glass window in our church. “I wonder why they covered it up?”

I don’t have an answer for her, but I’d assume it was because of running costs in a time when the church didn’t have a big contributor like Brent Williams to keep things going. However, I don’t voice that, I simply slide my hands into my pockets and gaze at the mural as I stand beside her, marveling at the work that would have gone into such a thing. There are a few cracked tiles that will need to be replaced, but other than that, it’s been very well preserved under the faux floor that had previously covered it.

We stand like that for a while, and I find my gaze shifting to study her instead. I take in her slight build, her graceful stance, her long neck and her soft blonde hair, twisted and clipped on the back of her head with a jeweled clasp. She wears little makeup, but it’s enough that you can tell she takes great care in her appearance. As a result, she appears calm, controlled – elegant, yet restrained. But, it’s like she’s a shell and the real her is in there somewhere, screaming to get out. I see snippets of it in our interactions, and it’s like I can hear her in my chest or something. I know there’s more to her.

And she dominates my thoughts, and I don’t know why when I barely know her. I wonder if it’s because I’m concerned for her after she flinched away from me yesterday, or if it’s because I know her father is generous to our cause and she’s always at the church. But, ultimately I just find myself wanting to know more about her – wanting to know what it is that goes on behind that calm façade she puts out to the world, the one that seems so regimented in a schedule that I can time her appearance each day to the second. And I find it strange, that after only a week of having known her, I actually know the very moment she steps through the door of the church, even if I don’t actually see her with my own eyes.

“Why do you come to the church every day?” I blurt without even thinking. I know that prayer and reflection is a private thing and it’s none of my business, but the question seemed to bubble out of my throat before I could stop it.

She moves her delicate hands and runs her fingers along the cuff of her cream silk blouse, pausing to twist the decorative button that holds the long sleeves at her wrists then she looks at me, and I wonder if I’ll ever get used to those colorful eyes.

“For the quiet,” she responds, her voice almost a whisper, then she takes a deep inhale and shifts her gaze back to the mural in the pool. “And because my husband and my father want me to pray.”

“You don’t do it because you want to?”

She shakes her head slowly, still playing with the button at her wrist. “I don’t even know if God exists anymore.”

“And yet you keep praying?”

She releases her button and slides her hands down the side of her beige skirt, smoothing out the fabric. “No,” she says. “I don’t pray at all. I simply think and dream, and I quietly hope.”

I find myself moving closer to her and almost whispering, her comments pulling at something inside me. “What are you hoping for?”

Turning away from the empty pool, she meets my eyes, and it’s as if hers have somehow lightened in color, and I wonder if that mirrors her thoughts. “Freedom,” she says simply, before walking toward the stairs, leaving me feeling completely dumbfounded. She’s unlike anyone I’ve known before.

By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I find Jules wandering around looking for us. “Wow, this all looks great,” she says when she sees me, and I smile when she does her usual bounce across the room and lands by my side, slipping her arm in mine. “What’s down there?”

“They’re fixing up an old pool.”

Her eyes scan the room and she nods. “Cool,” she says, before leaning in closer to me. “Where’s Father Hot-as-sin?”

Smiling at her joke, I tilt my head toward the door I just stepped through. “He’s still down there.”

Grinning, she releases my arm. “I might just go down there and work my magic,” she says, waggling her fingers at me as if they contain magical powers. I love the way her eyes light up with mischief, and that she doesn’t feel the need to follow anyone’s rules. I long to feel something like that.

“Who can do magic?” Father Daniels asks as he appears at the basement door and closes it firmly.

“Father Braden!” Jules chirps, ignoring his question. “You know, I saw some kids on the basketball courts out back. A fit looking guy like you must have some moves that you could show them – maybe you can bring them into your flock and give us ladies a show at the same time.”

I note the lascivious grin on her face as her eyes travel down the length of what appears to be a very firm looking body. The priest obviously takes care of himself.

“Swimming is actually more my thing, but I certainly know the rules. Perhaps we can do it another time though, I’m sure your sister has somewhere she needs to be,” he says, glancing at his watch, and the moment he does, my phone beeps once. It’s the reminder I’ve set to let me know my quiet time in the church is over, and I have to run the rest of my errands.

I take a step backwards, wondering if he somehow knows my schedule, or if that was just a coincidence. Either way, I feel a little off balance around the young priest.

“Feel free to go on without me,” I say, still backing away. He’s watching me. Why is he watching me like that? “I’ll um… I’ll see you later, Jules, and thanks, Father, for…” I pause and look around at the unfinished renovations. “For showing us this. I think it will be wonderful when it’s finished.” Then I’m out the door and I’m walking straight for my car, my heart beating fast, and I don’t know if it’s because of the way Father Daniels was looking at me or the whole revealing conversation in the basement, or the fact that my day isn’t my normal day. I need my routine. I need everything to follow a certain pattern. I forget things when it changes and that’s rarely a good thing.

Pausing beside the car, I fish out the key fob from my purse and press the button to unlock the doors, and as I do, I take a moment to inhale the fresh air and clear my mind.
Everything is fine
, I coach myself.
Everything is fine
.

When I open my eyes and look up, Father Daniels is standing across from me on the other side of the car, his head tilted to the side as he watches me - again. “Do you think you could give me a lift back to the rectory?” he asks after a beat.

Frowning, I look past him for my sister. “Where’s Jules?” I ask.

Turning, he points. “Right there.”

I follow his line of sight and see her getting into a red sports car and passionately kiss the attractive looking driver. “Well, I guess that explains who she was on a call to for so long,” I say, as she waves at my happily and they drive off.

“Indeed,” Father Daniels says, as he squints in the sun watching after them. Even with his face scrunched up, he’s still incredibly good looking, and I wonder how that’s even possible. I’m told I’m not even attractive when I keep my features straight, I can only imagine what happens to my face when it’s all scrunched up.

“Why did you become a priest?” I ask suddenly.

He raises his brow and points at the car. “Is the answer my cost of entry?”

I smile. “Yes, it is.”

“Ah,” he says. “In that case, I’ll walk.”

I shrug and open my car door. “Suit yourself.” But as I slide in, he gets into the passenger seat beside me.

“It looks like it might rain,” he says, pointing up to the pure blue sky, causing me to smile and shake my head as I start up the car.

“Of course it is.”

For a while, we drive in silence, while I wonder what he thinks of me now that I told him I don’t believe in God. Outwardly, I’m still a practicing Catholic in most areas of my life. I’m good at putting on the show. But in my heart, I know that it’s all just a farce, and that it doesn’t really matter what we all do in life because there is no heaven, and there is no hell, and all the good and evil is right here on earth, living in the hearts of the people we share our lives with.

“I caused the death of two people,” Father Daniels says suddenly, snapping me from my thoughts.

I turn to him briefly in surprise then abruptly return my eyes to the road. “Excuse me?”

“That’s why I became a priest – my father and my younger brother were killed by a drunk driver, and that drunk driver was me.”

My chest squeezes in pain over his loss. “I’m so sorry,” I interject and he raises a hand to wave away my condolences.

“Don’t. It was my fault. I was young, and I was acting out and, well…now I have to live with it. Part of my community service work was doing some repair work at a youth center. It was there that I met a priest called Father Alex. He was young, probably the same age as I am now, and he made a lot of sense to me whenever he spoke and slowly, I grew more and more involved in the church until I made the decision to enter the priesthood. My mother cried for weeks, she felt that she lost her only remaining son, but my sister understood. She understood that I needed to dedicate myself to helping people to make up for what I did.”

I swallow hard as I pull up near the church to let him out of the car. I don’t know what to say. My eyes burn, and my heart aches for the life he could have had had he made different choices, and suddenly I feel as though my own anger at the world isn’t quite as well placed as his is.

“I don’t know what to say,” I get out eventually. “I truly am sorry for all that you’ve been through.”

I glance over at him, meeting his eyes, seeing the sorrow inside them. “I didn’t tell you that to make you sorry for me, Emma. And it’s not something I tell a lot of people either. I told you because I want you to know that sometimes, even priests struggle with their faith. But I assure you, He is there, and He does have a plan, sometimes we just can’t see it through our own eyes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because He brought me to you.”

I stifle a laugh, my hand on my mouth then I shake my head and look away. “Your faith blinds you, Father.”

“No. I see the signs, Emma. There is a plan here.”

“Where?” I ask, shaking my head, wondering if perhaps his faith has turned him a little crazy.

He smiles, so beautifully that it illuminates his blue eyes. “I was sent to a church with stained glass windows surrounding it, then I found the hidden pool with the tiled mural, then I met the girl with the downcast eyes that when she looks up, are exactly the color of stained glass windows. There is a plan here.”

I shake my head again. “That doesn’t mean anything,” I scoff, even though having my eyes likened to stained glass windows is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. “You’re looking for a connection to explain...” I stop talking, pressing my lips together so I don’t overstep the mark. 

“
Then their eyes were opened and they recognized Him
,” he quotes to prove his point.

“Don’t go quoting the bible at me, you priests can twist that thing to mean anything you want it to,” I respond. “Now get out of my car, you’ve already thrown my schedule out enough for one day.”

Letting out a laugh, he opens his door and gets out before turning back toward me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Emma,” he says, gently closing the door and striding away from the car.

I should probably just drive away and write the attractive man off as a crazy priest, but I can’t help but stay put until he strides up the steps of the church and enters the door leading the rectory so he’s out of my sight. I also can’t help but stare at how well he wears those black clerics pants of his.

If he’s right, and God really did send him to me, then why did he choose the most attractive man on the planet? Perhaps he’s punishing me. Perhaps this is what I get for denying his existence…

I bite my lip, staring at the rectory door as I think on it, then I shake my head, laughing at myself internally as I start my car to leave, deciding that I should tell Jules to change his name from ‘Father Hot-as-sin’ to ‘Father Hot-but-Delusional’.

As I enter the flow of traffic, I catch sight of my eyes in the rear vision mirror.
The color of stained windows…
I cover my mouth as a smile dances on my lips. It’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me…