Emily and the Priest (5 page)

“Yes.” Father Mark smiled as she let go of his hand, wandering over to the statue, tall and graceful, a beautiful woman even though her eyes were painted black and two trails, like dark tears, flowed down her cheeks.
“This is what I came here to show you.”

“
Poor Lucy.” Emily touched the statue’s grey cheek, tracing the saint’s lovely tears.

“She c
an see, even though she’s blind.” Father Mark spoke in hushed tones.
“
God has given her special sight. She can see things others can’t. Her name means light, you know.”

“Does it?” She felt his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently, and she trembled at his touch.

“I don’t ever want you to hide your light under a basket, Emily.” His kiss fell on the top of her head, along her hairline. “Let it shine. Like St. Lucy.”

She sighed, leaning back against him. “You make me feel so good.”

“The feeling is very mutual.” His arms went around her waist and they stood there like that in the multicolored pattern
ed
late afternoon light coming in through the stained glass windows above, neither of them wanting to break the hushed spell. It was the sound of the carnival that reached them—the faint clang of a bell and the roar of people. Someone had clearly won the strongman game and the crowd approved.

“I’d better get you back.” Father Mark took her hand and led her down the podium steps.

Emily walked slowly, not wanting their time together to end. “Your
great-great-great
grandfather really helped build this place?”

“
My great-great grandfather was also a preacher. But my grandfather was a rebel. He split from his family, and the Baptists, and converted to Catholicism. He left his family to become a priest.”

Emily stared at him. “He left his family?”

“Yes. My father was a baby at the time.” Father Mark ran his hand along the back of one of the polished pews as they
hesitated
at the back of the chapel. “He grew up hating the church. He’s an atheist still. We don’t speak.”

“He didn’t want you to become a priest?”
Emily was beginning to understand his earlier comments about his father.

“No.”

“Why did you?”

“Honestly?
” Father Mark led her out the same door they’d come in through, turning to lock it behind him.
“
Someone broke my heart a long time ago, and I thought I could never love anyone else. The priesthood seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, becoming a priest was a direct rebellion against my father.”

She watched him pocket the key
, feeling slightly jealous of that long, lost love
.
“Do you think Catholic priests will ever be allowed to marry?”

“Technically, it’s possible. It’s Canon Law, not dogma, so the law could be changed. Some day. But I don’t think so, Emily. Not in my lifetime. Not in our lifetime.”

He turned toward her, taking her into his arms. It was so easy, and felt so right. If
this was a sin, she decided, tha
n she would burn in hell.

“Do you really love me?”
She lifted her face to his, searching his eyes for the truth, and finding it.
She traced the cross she had placed on his cheek, like a brand.

“I do.”
His lips were warm, his words mumbled.
“God help me, I do.”

“What are we going to do?”
She put
her head on his chest.

“I don’t know.
” His sigh was felt more than heard, his hand moving softly through her hair.
“
What do you want to do?”

“I want to love you.”
Her
arms
tightened
around him
.
“Even God can’t stop love.”

He lifted her chin, his gaze falling to her mouth.
“I don’t think he wants to.”

They kissed, hungry for each other, sealing the promise of their love under a fading, dusky apricot sky, far too distracted to really notice the movement and flash at the edge of the woods, the giggling of two girls bent on making trouble wherever they went. Emily caught something out of the corner of her eye as they parted and remarked on it, and Father Mark scanned the woods as they walked, but there was nothing except the wind in the trees and the distant sound of the carnival to keep them company as they made their way back.

* * * *

“Someone slipped that under the door for you.”
Alexis
pointed to Emily’s desk as she came into the room.
Alexis
was stretched out on her bed, reading something on her Kindle, and she turned her attention back to it almost immediately.

Emily eyed the envelope, her stomach sinking to her knees. She recognized the handwriting. It was
her
ex-roommate
Jenny
’s. She slipped a fingernail under the edge, slowly prying it open. It was just a plain envelope, a plain piece of lined notebook paper, but the words written on it would ruin not only her life, but Father Mark’s as well.

“So what is it?”
Alexis
interrupted Emily’s fatalistic thoughts.

Emily crumpled the letter, shoving it into her jeans pocket. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”
Alexis
sat up, tossing her Kindle beside her on the bed.
“I saw Eve hanging around at this end of the hall. Is it from them? Is it another prank?”

“
Maybe
.
” Emily
reluctantly
handed the note over to her friend, hanging her head, letting her
thick, brown
hair fall and cover her face as her roommate read it.

“Oh my god!”
Alexis
exclaimed. “They’re going to get in so much trouble! Accusing Father Mark of something like this? It’s like… black
mail
! You should take this to
Bishop
Avery!
”

Emily covered her face with her hands—her hair wasn’t doing a good enough job—her voice muffled. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She dropped her hands, looking at her roommate and new friend, red-faced.
“Because it’s true.”

“You and… you and Father Mark?”
Alexis
whispered. Her jaw dropped.

“I love him,” Emily said quickly, defiantly. Adding,
“
And he loves me.”

“Oh my G
od.”
Alexis
crossed
herself withou
t even thinking, like any good c
atholic girl, even as she took the Lord’s name in vain.

Emily burst into tears.
She couldn’t help it.

“Oh no, Emily, no, don’t cry!”
Alexis
went over to Emily’s bed, sitting and putting an arm around her shoulders. “Listen, I don’t care. If they want my stupid TV, they can have it. That’s all they’re asking for, right? So we give it to them. No big deal.”

Emily sobbed harder, really giving into it, letting go of the tension
, the secrets
she’d been keeping, from
Jenny
and Eve’s horrible pranks to her love for Father Mark.

“You don’t understand.” Emily accepted
Alexis
’s offered Kleenex, loudly blowing her nose. “They just want to torment me. That’s all they’ve ever wanted. So we give them your TV. What are they going to ask for next? They’re not just going to stop.”

Alexis
sighed, giving her friend another Kleenex. “I talked to Eve last night in the commons.”

“You did?”

“She was drunk. She said she’d been fighting with
Jenny
. I don’t think it’s Eve who keeps doing this to you. Or, at least, I think she’s really being influenced by
Jenny
. Do you know what she said?”

“What?”

“She said she wished she’d never traded rooms.”

Emily met
her new friend’s eyes, realization
dawning.
“She wants you back.”

Alexis
nodded. “But now she feels stuck.”

“Poor Eve.” Emily chewed her knuckle, thinking. She turned to her roommate, clutching her arm. “
Alexis
, I have an idea that may fix everything.”

“Everything?”

“Well maybe not hunger and world peace. But at least everything for us.”

Alexis
sat forward, cross-legged and eager. “Tell me.”

She did.

* * * *

She worried all night about how she was going to manage it—they had a midnight curfew
but she slipped out without incident, leaving Alexis snoring face down on her bed, and her entire dorm sleeping in the still October night. The air was cold enough to make her gasp
. She felt safe, in spite of the darkness and the fact she was making the walk alone. All of the church property was gated, including the school, the church where they went to mass on Sundays, and the park.

Besides, all she could think about was Father Mark, waiting for her in
the chapel. She used her iPhone—now fully charged, all the offensive messages erased—
to light her way down the path, through the woods, being careful not to trip over logs. A twisted ankle now would be horrible timing. It seemed to take her forever to get the clearing, but then there it was, the black steeple rising up to touch the silvery orb of the moon overhead.

The side door was open, as he’d promised, and she slipped inside, breathless and shivering, from both cold
and
excitement. There were no lights on, but instead the warm glow of candl
es everywhere she looked, all over the podium, up the stairs, on the pews. Emily gasped at the effect, each point of light turning the li
ttle chapel into something even more holy and
sacred.

“Father Mark?” she whispered, sure he was here somewhere.

“I think you can call me Mark now.” He stepped out of the vestibule, wearing jeans still, but his shirt was white now, the buttons unfastened almost to his navel
, and he was barefoot
. He had a blanket and a pillow in his arms. “You made it okay?”

Her only answer was to throw her arms around his neck, fastening her mouth to his.
He caught her
easily, the pillow and blanket forgotten in the heat of their kiss, hands and mouths exploring to depths neither of them could fathom, already. She trembled in his arms, and he carried her like that, arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist, past the pews and up to the
dais
. Behind the podium, there was a makeshift bed,
with
more
blankets and pillows spread out on the floor in full view of
all the religious statues
.

“Isn’t this sacrilege?” she whispered as he went to his knees, settling her with one of the pillows beneath her head.

His lips caressed her ear. “It’s heaven.”

And it was.

They couldn’t have stopped it if they tried. Their lust was like a freight train bearing down at them, full speed. Father Mark tried to slow things down, kissing her long and passionately, caressing every inch of her body through her clothes, but it was all too much of a barrier for Emily. She had his shirt
all the way
off in an instant, her hands roaming over the hard muscles of his back and belly and chest, delighting in seeing him unclothed in the
candle
light
, but he denied her when she tried to unzip his jeans.

“Oh please,” she whispered, letting him unfasten her blouse and kiss his way down its V. She’d slipped her uniform clothes on before she left, too afraid to get caught outside of the dorm in her pajamas, and he was taking his slow, sweet time undressing her.

“Easy,” he murmured over the top of her generous cleavage, spilling over the cups of her bra.

But she was too impatient, unhooking her own bra, giving him her flesh. He groaned at the sight of her, taking both of her breasts in his hands, his tongue exploring, bathing her in his saliva. He captured her nipples between his lips, first one, then the other, sucking deep, moaning softly and shifting his hips away from her groping hands.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, kissing his way down her belly, his tongue dipping briefly into her navel. “I’ve been dreaming about this for…”

“For how long?”
she teased. He had her skirt
pulled up and her panties
halfway down to her knees.

“Since the moment I saw you,” he confessed, his cheeks pink as he had her lift her hips so he could unzip her skirt
fully
.

“Me too,” she admitted, wiggling her hips, letting him slide off her skirt and her panties so that she was completely nude, the candlelight throwing soft shadows over her belly as he settled himself between her legs.