The Gathering (20 page)

There was silence as the others all looked as if they were trying to figure out this weighty problem.

Rose smiled. “Look at it this way,” she said, as she answered her own question. “We’re united in our goals. We”—her gesture included all—“want to dedicate ourselves to service to the Lord. We can be cooperative and supportive to each other.”

“Rose is right,” her twin affirmed. “Heck, someday we might be assigned to the same parish. Not all of us at the same time …” He smiled. “ … but someday Manny and Alice, for instance, could be assigned to staff a parish where Alice is teaching in the school and Manny is assistant pastor … maybe even pastor. But even if a situation like that never happens, we’ll always be there for each other.”

Mike’s commentary lost Manny. At first mention of a joint assignment, Manny fell into a daydream.

The reverie, as in Mike’s scenario, revolved around him and Alice.

Manny’s contact with Alice had been very limited. Typically, get-togethers involved him and Mike—usually stopping off at the Smith home going to or coming from some athletic event.

They would occasionally bump into Rose and her sidekick pal, Alice. For some reason—perhaps because Rose was Mike’s twin—Manny never considered Rose in any sexual way. If he’d given it any thought he wouldn’t have been able to explain this reservation; it was as if any sort of sexual activity between him and Rose would be … incestuous.

No similar reservation blocked his awareness of Alice’s allure. As in the attraction of any couple, there were no rational reasons; it just happened.

However, there was no indication that his feelings were reciprocated.

Manny reasoned that it was better that way. An infatuation was not a sound basis for a chaste and celibate life.

The conversation continued as the participants searched for ways that this—what? club, group, association?—could be of service to or provide help for the two girls who now stood out, as a second-rate punster might have said, like sore nuns.

The group searched for some way of providing an even playing field.

The boys were on one level. Particularly in a parochial school, boys who leaned toward the priesthood were number-one class entities. Teaching nuns nurtured them, priests became companions to the present and future seminarians.

Next—and definitely ranking second—were the girls headed for the convent. So it had been and so it was now. How would two girls headed for the convent be able to “be there” for three boys destined for the altar?

On this score, religious life did not differ all that much from secular life. Women had their place. In the convent, in the classroom, in the pews, in the hospital, in the cloister. All subservient to the priest. In secular life, the kitchen, the laundry, and, of course, the bedroom. Subservient to their husbands.

Manny’s distraction notwithstanding, the group pledged to convene as often as seemed useful. Little did they know then how much support each would one day require.

   
FIFTEEN
   

C
HRISTMAS DAY.

The Benson family had attended Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. Stan was one of the altar boys for this ceremony. Three other boys also served. There was never a problem getting kids to serve at Christmas and Easter. Like their parents, they could be counted on to be in church for one or both of these reverent feasts.

This was a most solemn occasion for Lily Benson. Now that Father Simpson had “legitimized” her marital state, this was the first Midnight Mass since her earlier necessarily civil marriage to George Benson that she had felt worthy enough to receive Communion.

Most of the other people at Mass today would attend services sporadically throughout the year. For them, Mass attendance was little more than a superstition.

Not so with Lily.

Though not able sacramentally to participate due to her canonically invalid marriage, still she had attended Mass almost daily.

But all that had been fixed. That miracle-working pastor, Father Edward Simpson, had seen to that.

Now Lily was the life of the party. Not that she had embalmed and buried previous parties. But now there was a contagious lilt to her laughter and a special sparkle in her eyes.

The annual Christmas celebration was an occasion for joy and singing well-remembered songs. It was a time that provided a universal greeting for friend or stranger.

Merry Christmas.

Lily Benson was a special case. And those closest to her sensed that.

She bounced about the dining room, making sure all the decorations were firmly mounted. She had visiting privileges to the turkey. Periodically, she swept through the kitchen to baste the bird.

On one of these excursions, her sister Peg invited herself along. “Need any help, Lil?”

“If you want, sure.” Lily was surprised. So lost was she in her private happiness that the offer caught her off guard. Ordinarily she wanted no assistance in her kitchen, where she reigned supreme.

Lily checked the pie, while Peg mashed the rutabaga.

Peg had guessed that her sister’s extra spark had some connection with her spiritual life. All Lil’s relatives were lately aware of and wondered at her taking Communion. Only Peg had the special entree to question her sister. “Lil, what’s with you and Communion?”

Lily spun around to face Peg. “I’m okay with the Church.”

“That’s great, Lil. But after so many years of your being away, it’s natural for us to wonder …”

“Don’t wonder. All you’ve got to know is that my wonderful parish priest fixed it all up.”

Peg paused in her mashing. “How did he do that? I remember all these years ago, just before you married George, how we tried to get you married in the Church. I was even a witness for you. I mean, I know the problem was with George’s previous marriage. But I testified that you were the kind of person who would not lie under oath no matter how you might be hurt by the truth.”

“Don’t remind me of that. It was the darkest time of my life.”

“But,” Peg said, unheeding, “the verdict went against you and in favor of George’s first marriage.”

Lily shuddered at the memory.

“And so the two of you were married by a judge. And I was your matron of honor.”

“I remember all too well,” Lily said. “You got into trouble because of being in my wedding party.”

“It was worth it … for you, hon. Besides, all I had to do was go to confession and get the living hell bawled out of me—followed by a whopping penance …” Now it was Peg who shuddered. “Fifteen rosaries, as I recall.”

They both laughed.

“So,” Peg asked, “what happened? How come all of a sudden you can take Communion? C’mon, sis: After fifteen rosaries, you owe me!”

They laughed again.

Lily gently touched her sister’s arm. “If I could tell anyone, I would tell you. All I can say is that Father Simpson has this wonderful dispensation that he had been saving for what he called a very special case. I’m not sure how George and I qualified for this great gift … but I’m not about to look it in the mouth.

“Just be happy for me, Peg. Just be happy.”

“I am. You know that, Lil. And I promise: No more questions.”

Lily brushed aside a tear. “Thanks, Peg.”

“And I will personally shoot down anybody who bugs you about this.”

“Thanks.”

“Now,” Peg said, “I hear that Stan is planning on going to the seminary … true?”

Lily glowed. “I’ve never seen him so happy. Of course, he’s trying to keep it hidden. But I know my boy.” She looked thoughtful, then continued. “I’m not sure that he really understands the whole situation. But he knows that George and I are ecstatic. And now he can go off to study to be a priest. It’s what he’s always wanted to be. I’ve had the hardest time trying to explain to him why he never could be a priest.

“He knew that I was very unhappy because he was blocked. But I tried never to let him know how guilty I felt. It was my marriage that was blocking him. My choice of loving and wanting George stood in the way of what my son wanted for himself.

“All I can tell you, Peg, is that George and Stan and I were basically unhappy people. And now we’re filled with joy.”

Peg was grinning from ear to ear. “And I’m happy for you all. But, one thing, sister mine …”

“What’s that?”

“You still owe me fifteen rosaries.”

A modest-sized Christmas tree with all its lights and baubles stood in the small living room. In the Benson home everything was small: kitchen, dining room, bathroom, etc. The presence of the tree simply made the area seem more cluttered.

But this was Christmas Day. The feast only enhanced the miraculous events that had recently transformed the Benson family’s life.

Dick Trent, Peg’s husband, sat alongside George Benson, absently listening to some athletic event on the radio.

In the dining room, three young people played gin at a card table that would do double duty as a dining table.

Judy, twelve, and Jiggs, fourteen, belonged to Dick and Peg. The third was Stan Benson, close to Jiggs in age.

Though it was quite cold outside, still the thermostat was set higher than needed. Thanks mostly to the heat, Dick and George were fast losing whatever interest they’d had in the radio program.

“I hear,” Dick addressed George, “that your boy is thinking of going into the seminary.”

George, who had nearly fallen asleep, came to with a start. “That’s the way it looks.”

Silence. From the excitement in the announcer’s voice, it seemed that one of the teams had done something noteworthy.

“How do you feel about that, George?”

“It puts me in a pickle.”

“How’s that?”

“I used to say that no man should have a boss who expects him to come to work in a dress.”

Dick thought about that for a moment, then chuckled. “Yes, I remember. But what’s the problem? I thought it was kind of cute.”

“Clever, maybe. But not too smart,” George replied.

“Not smart?”

“I said that when the kid couldn’t go to the seminary … couldn’t be a priest. I was trying to make it easier on him.”

“Easier?”

“Yeah, you know—less disappointing. I mean, the whole thing … well, it was mostly my fault. You know how it was when Lily and I got married—”

“I should. Peg and I stood up for you and Lily at your wedding.”

“Yeah, well that was that. We tried to get married in the Church. But the Church wasn’t having any part of me and my first marriage.

“At first, I tried to bow out.” Noting the surprise on his friend’s face, he hastened to explain. “Oh, it wasn’t that I didn’t love Lil. Heck”—he smiled and shook his head in memory—“I loved the hell out of her. But”—the smile disappeared—“I was taking her away from her Church.”

“That must’ve been rotten.”

“It was! It wouldn’t even have helped if I had become Catholic. Which I was willing to do. But it wouldn’t have done any good: The Church wouldn’t let me out of that first marriage. Or, rather, they wouldn’t recognize that I was out of it … even though it was a disaster from day one. The best thing my first wife and I could do was bury our relationship …” He snorted. “Hell, it was long since dead anyway.”