Dead Wrong (18 page)

The burning question was: What was going to happen next?

“Well,” Koesler said, “let’s get back to the beginning. If I remember correctly,” he turned to Oona, “you were the one responsible for this meeting.”

“It was simple enough,” Oona said, “I wanted you to talk to Maureen about confession and Communion. Far as I’m concerned, it’s long past time. I wanted you to do it ages ago. But …” The explanation trailed off, and Oona looked pointedly at Eileen.

“All right,” Eileen said, “I agreed with Oona in everything except that I didn’t want to get you involved. Any number of priests could’ve done the job. But when it came to picking one, we never could agree on which one to ask. And we were afraid that the wrong one might only drive Maureen further away from the Church.”

“Okay …” Koesler thought for a moment. “We’d better start putting this thing together piece by piece. It’s a pretty tangled mess trying to figure out who knows what, who has to be kept in the dark, and who ought to know more. And I agree the place to start is with Maureen. But that’s easier said than done.”

“What’s hard!” Oona exclaimed. “You said it yourself: All she has to do is to go to confession. She committed her sin so long ago. God knows she’s suffered enough for it. God knows, all of us have! Far as I know, she hasn’t been excommunicated for having an illegitimate child. What does she need besides confession?”

Koesler smiled. “No, there isn’t any extra penalty like excommunication for that. There never has been. But there’s more to this than we can know, I think.”

“What!” Oona sounded exasperated.

“In thirty years?” Koesler said. “In thirty years! Count the weeks that have passed in that time. Think of the opportunities she’s had to go to confession. She still goes to Mass, doesn’t she? She goes regularly, doesn’t she? In that, she’s given as good an example as she could to the girls … right?”

Both sisters nodded.

“Well, then,” he continued, “look at all the chances she’s had to confess. Look at all the opportunities she’s had. Most Catholic churches offer confession before specific Sunday Masses. Since the Vatican Council, most parishes offer communal penance services. With the communal service, Mo could’ve just melted into the crowd.

“All in all, she’s had more opportunity than many might have. Still, there’s no indication she’s been to confession. If she had, she certainly would be going to Communion.”

“So?” Oona wanted to know.

“So,” Koesler rejoined, “it’s like taking the proverbial horse to water but not being able to make him drink. Just because we think this would be a real easy step for Mo to take doesn’t mean that Mo sees it that way.”

“So,” Oona said again, “you’re the priest. What are we going to do?”

Koesler thought for a minute. “I think,” he said finally, “what was said before still holds true. That being so, if I were to bring the matter up, I would alarm her. I can’t think of any way I could approach her and not drive her off. Over the years she must have built up defenses. And if I were to contact her, all those defenses would be activated on the spot.”

“So,”—Oona wanted action—”what are we going to do?”

“I think Eileen should get in touch with Mo,” Koesler said. “Tell her, in the most tactful way possible, that we’ve had this talk. That I know everything you know, and that I want to help. Tell her all she has to do is get in touch with me and we’ll talk it over.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean she’s supposed to make her confession to me. If that prospect bothers her at all, I can and will set something up with another priest. And I can guarantee that this priest will be kind, patient, and nonjudgmental. All she has to do to get this healing started is to call me. It’s as simple as that. Try to make sure you get across how simple the procedure will be.

“And, oh …” Koesler added, “maybe it would be good to tell her that I’ve seen Charles Nash. He’s a party to all this too, and I’d be surprised if he has much longer to live.”

“You saw Charlie Nash!” Oona said. “You didn’t say anything about that! When did you see that bastard?”

“Oona!” Eileen remained shocked at that perfectly legitimate Anglo-Saxon word.

In Koesler’s judgment, there was no problem in sharing with his cousins the gist of his conversation with Charles Nash. Not only were the contents of that conversation clearly germane to what Koesler and the sisters were discussing, but there had been no evident intent on Nash’s part to protect what was said as falling under the category of either sacramental or professional secrecy.

Koesler filled Eileen and Oona in on his meeting with Nash.

When he finished, Oona said, “I don’t believe a word of it! He’s not worried about the affair between Brenda and his son becoming public. He’s scared over Maureen and Mary Lou. The rotter was the seducer of one and the father of the other. My guess is that the longer he waits for the second shoe to drop the more scared he gets.”

“I agree just about completely,” Koesler said. “Although at the time he told me all this, I believed him—even if I couldn’t quite comprehend why he had to worry that much about Brenda and Ted’s relationship being pulled out of the closet. But after what you’ve just told me, I tend to agree with you, Oona. Thirty years is an awful long time to live under the sword of a most unpleasant revelation that you think is inevitable.

“But for now, there’s no use getting into that with Mo. What we want to do is convince her that confession is just what the doctor ordered. In this case, Doctor Jesus. So, you make the call, Eileen, and I’ll take it from there. And, for now, I have just one favor to ask, Eileen.”

“Surely. What can I do for you?”

“Don’t let the dog out of the basement until I’m well out of here.”

F
ATHER
K
OESLER
recognized the voice immediately. He was surprised only that Eileen had already acted.

It was just this afternoon that he’d had the conversation with her and Oona. Ordinarily, Eileen did not move this expeditiously. He hadn’t expected to hear from her for three or four days, maybe even a week or ten days.

Eileen liked to be very circumspect. Faced with a task like confronting Maureen and convincing her to at least talk to her cousin about confession, it would not have been unexpected for Eileen to write and rewrite a script for her part of the dialogue.

Koesler could tell, also immediately, that Eileen was distressed.

“Oh, Father Bob,” she said tremulously, “I’m afraid I’ve spoiled everything.”

Koesler thought he detected the choking back of tears.

“Take it easy, Eileen … What’s the matter?” he asked, even though he was quite sure what the matter was.

“It’s Maureen. Oh, I should have written it out—the script—like I usually do when I’m making a difficult telephone call. I don’t know where my brains are.”

“Well, what happened, Eileen?”

But Eileen was not yet ready to forgive herself. “It sounded so simple when you were talking this afternoon. I thought all I’d have to do would be to let her know that you know all about it and that you want to help her. I thought that would be all it would take. But … but … I didn’t …” She was crying.

Koesler felt so sorry for her. “It’s all right, Eileen. It’s not your fault, whatever happened. Just take it easy and when you’re able then tell me what happened.”

Several moments elapsed, during which Koesler continued to speak soothingly and Eileen gradually became more composed.

“She … she was very angry,” Eileen said at length. “More angry than I’ve ever heard her. She wanted to know by what authority we presumed to tell such an intimate secret to you. She said it was
her
secret, not ours. And that we had no right—
none—
to violate the trust she had placed in us. Oh, she was so angry! As soon as she started to speak, I knew I was going to fail. But I had no way of preparing myself for all the anger and abuse that she heaped on me. It was awful.” She sounded as if she was going to break down and cry again.

“Was that all you were able to get through to her, Eileen—just that you and Oona had told me about her situation?”

“No, not quite. When she got over her first wave of anger, I tried to tell her what you were prepared to do … that you said she wouldn’t have to go to you for confession … that you could arrange for her to see another priest … one who would be kind and welcoming.”

“And?”

“And she got even more upset. She just said the obvious—you pointed it out this afternoon—that if she wanted another priest she could find one just as well as you could.

“And that’s true, you know, especially since Brenda works in the chancery and Mary Lou got that job in a parish. It seems that the girls are in pretty good positions to ask around for just the right priest to hear Maureen’s confession.”

Koesler didn’t want his disappointment to show through in his tone of voice. Eileen was dejected enough as it was. “You did your best, Eileen. Don’t go blaming yourself. All we’re doing is trying to help. The final move, if there’s going to be one, has got to come from Mo.

“So … that was it? Anything else? Did you mention that I’d been to see Charlie Nash?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.” Eileen’s voice sounded slightly more upbeat.

“And?”

“And Maureen’s attitude seemed to change. She seemed to almost forget her anger and get interested in what I was saying.”

“Hmmm.”

“It was odd; at first she seemed just as angry that you would see her former lover as she was that we had confided in you. But then, she started to get more … uh … detached when I told her Mr. Nash had asked to see you rather than vice-versa. She wanted to know what had happened between you two.

“So I told her, as accurately as I could remember your telling us. And when I got to the part where you said that Mr. Nash looked very bad and that you didn’t think he had very much longer to live, it was as if all her anger sort of dissolved, and she got kind of lost in thought.”

“Did she say anything then … that you can remember?”

“Uh … umm … yes. It was just before we hung up. She didn’t say anything to soften or apologize for her earlier anger. But she did say … wait a minute—she did say that maybe it was time.”

“‘Time’? Time for what?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea. I almost forgot that. It was such a minor part of our conversation. The main part—ninety-nine percent of what she said—was all that anger about the fact that we had told you and now you knew all about her secret.

“Honestly, Father Bob, that was the essence of our conversation. And that’s what most disturbs me: that part about maybe it being time for … whatever … That came just at the very end. And I really don’t know what she meant by it.”

Neither did Koesler. But, mostly for Eileen’s sake, he wanted to draw something positive out of the uncertainty. “Maybe,” he said, “maybe the fact that Charlie Nash may be on his last legs is what Maureen has been waiting for. Maybe she’ll think that over and change her mind about coming around fully and going to confession again.”

“Oh, do you think so?” The relief in Eileen’s tone was almost tangible. “Do you really think so?”

“Could be. Let’s let this stew a bit and see what happens. Particularly if there should be some crisis in Nash’s physical condition, I might just try phoning Mo myself. It might just prove to be the opening we’ve been looking for.”

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Eileen enthused.

“Yes, indeed it would,” Koesler agreed. “Let us pray.”

With that, and with Eileen feeling much better, they ended their conversation.

K
OESLER REALIZED
that he was responsible for Eileen’s temporary euphoria. But, he quickly decided, there was no harm in that.

Deep down, he didn’t really have much hope that Maureen’s reaction to news of Nash’s failing health would lead her back to the sacraments.

Whatever that reaction signified, it was an interesting development. For a very long time that evening, even after he retired, Father Koesler continued to ponder what it could mean.

“Time.”
Time for what?

C H A P T E R

14

O
F COURSE
the doorman knew Ted Nash on sight. The liveried gentleman also knew that young Mr. Nash was expected by the elder Mr. Nash. However, no one had mentioned a priest.

It was a nasty moment of decision. Should he simply wave young Teddy and his priest companion through? The doorman’s predecessor had done that once. The caller in question was a beautiful young lady who had visited Mr. Charles any number of times. It was obviously an oversight; the doorman exercised his practiced judgment and allowed her to accompany the others, each of whom had been specifically listed for admission.

He never had the opportunity to admit another visitor. He was discharged forthwith. He was unable to obtain another position until he finally found work in Canada.

On the other hand, Ted Nash’s short fuse was notorious.

It appeared to be a no-win dilemma.

Then, in an inspired moment, the doorman smiled. “Just let me call upstairs and make sure all is ready for your visit.”

Even that conciliatory stratagem almost detonated Ted Nash’s temper. It did the waiting doorman’s sanity no favor when Charlie Nash’s houseboy left him hanging while he checked with his master. By the time Charles Nash had second thoughts on the subject, and word came down to admit the priest, the doorman stood in a welter of sweat.