Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) (29 page)

With school back in session and Zack back with me, the four of us resumed our normal routine. Zack even went back to taking me to and from St. Matthew’s and MIQ. Sometimes I caught a glimpse of Monsignor Brennigan watching us as we kissed hello or goodbye. He was still as stubborn as ever, avoiding me at all costs. Mother Superior was away from the orphanage more and more now.

One day Monsignor Brennigan came looking for her at MIQ. Finding only Sister Laverne in her place, he was not pleased. He reminded me of a child throwing a tantrum—not too dissimilar from my own outbursts growing up. Whatever he needed to speak with her about was urgent enough that it looked like he was going to have an aneurysm from the delay.

Every time he came face to face with me, he glared. I hated it so much. Sometimes I told myself that I should just leave the church and find a new parish. I could always contact Congressman Reynolds if Brennigan tried to cause a problem. But then my mind raced back to the night with Caleb at the Tripping Donkey.

“Adoption provisions, weird stuff. Loyalty clauses and stuff like that,” he’d said. Neither Caleb nor I knew for sure what these provisions were. I would have given anything to know, to be able to beat them at their own game.

This cat-and-mouse game of avoidance continued well into February. With more than three months having passed since my ill-fated confession,
my judgment of Monsignor Brennigan’s unwavering ridiculousness became more harsh and jaded. I had been rejected and ostracized for months. I couldn’t believe this wasn’t penance enough. While I felt like part of my heart had been broken, the only part containing fond memories from my childhood, I felt great otherwise. Better than ever, in fact. I never felt sick anymore, nor did I pass out or have that fuzzy-headed feeling. For the most part I chalked it up to being happy. But inside I knew there was something more to it.

The last Monday in February, Monsignor Brennigan finally approached me. I was doing some filing in the front office of St. Matthew’s just down the hall from his office. He walked up to me from behind, startling me.

“Mary Elizabeth, it is time for us to talk.” He motioned for me to follow him into his office. I did.

“Yes, Monsignor. Is there something you need?” I asked hesitantly, feeling as though I had been ambushed.

“Elizabeth, this isn’t working. It must be addressed.” Brennigan’s words were cold and unfeeling.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“Elizabeth, it was my hope that you would see the error of your ways and repent on your own. Had that happened, I would have welcomed you back with open arms long ago.”

“Monsignor—the error of my ways?” Surely I was not such a sinner that my whole way was errant.

“Yes, Mary Elizabeth. Your relationship with the boy, Zack, is not moral in the eyes of God. I thought you understood that, since you sought absolution in my confessional.”

The memory of the confessional and my humiliation enraged me all over again. “An absolution you refused!” I bellowed, condemning him to the same extent he condemned me. “And how do you know his name is Zack? I never told you his name.” That gnawing feeling once again took hold of my stomach.

“I did not feel that you were properly repentant. Therefore, you were not prepared for absolution,” Monsignor explained in his most pious tone, completely skipping over my question about Zack.

“Father, I love him. This time apart from you has made me certain of only one thing, and that is it,” I declared with all the force and vigor of the wrongly accused.

“I see that is the case, MaryElizabeth. However, it does not change the morality of the situation.”

“Respectfully, Monsignor, it has been months. My mind has not wavered. Apparently yours has or I would not be standing here. What is it that you want of me?” I was firm, absolute in my conviction. I was not going to be shamed again. I had paid with months of self-doubt and regret. I was not going to give him any more. This man of the cloth was equally wrong and he knew it.

“I fear, child, that what I want, what God wants, you are unable to give.” His tone was supremely righteous and it made me want to puke.

“Then I believe the situation remains unchanged. Good evening, Monsignor.” I turned to walk out, proud that I had not caved under the pressure.

“Elizabeth, come now. Let’s be reasonable.” Brennigan’s voice was suddenly sweet, sickeningly sweet. It was a tone I’d heard him use only a few times before.

“I think we are far beyond reasonable.”

“A compromise, then?”

“What is that, Monsignor?” I asked, still angry but now more curious.

“A meeting. I propose a meeting. Let me meet your beau to judge his intentions for myself. If he has a pure heart, devoted to loving you, perhaps I could offer my blessing.
My
blessing, mind you, not God’s.” His words were precise, calculated, completely controlled.

“I will ask him. That is all I can do. These past few months have been difficult for me. Zack has come to my defense loyally. I am not sure if he would look kindly upon an audience with you,” I told him truthfully.

“I appreciate your honesty, Elizabeth. I will await your answer. If Zack accepts, then we will meet after Mass on Sunday. You will join me for Sunday Mass, won’t you? Now go, it is late. Zack will be waiting.” Brennigan signaled for me to leave.

There it was again, Zack’s name. How did Monsignor Brennigan know his name? Caleb hadn’t mentioned it at the party, I was sure. The thought of him spying on me creeped me out. As I left his office and walked outside to the open air of the street, frightening visions flooded my head. My shadow stalkers—could they be his? But the idea was preposterous. The notion of Monsignor having minions was ludicrous, like something out of a
horror movie. Yet with every attempt I made to dismiss it, the more likely it seemed.

“Liz, are you okay?” I heard Zack’s voice as I felt the weightless sensation of him picking me up. He carried me in his arms, the way he had the night of our first date at the drive-in. This time passion was replaced with concern.

“Liz, Liz.” I felt his warm hands moving my face from side to side, trying to coax me into consciousness.

“Zack?” I mumbled.

“Yes, Liz. It’s me. What did he do to you?” His voice was strong with protective fury.

“No, nothing. I just feel a little dizzy.” I knew why I felt faint. And it wasn’t because of my talk with Monsignor Brennigan, although I was sure that didn’t help matters any.

“I’m going to take you home now, okay, Liz? I just have to stop at my dorm first.”

“Okay,” I agreed as I lay back down on the bench seat. I rested my head in Zack’s lap as he drove. When we arrived at Fischer Hall, I felt more alert. I sat up.

“I’ll be right back. Just rest, Liz.” Zack opened the truck door to get out.

“I’ll come with you,” I announced weakly, fearful of being left alone.

“All right, but take it slow,” he warned. “You still don’t look good.”

“I don’t look good?” I smiled impishly as I climbed out of the truck.

“There’s my girl. You okay?” Zack hugged me, seeming relieved that my humor was returning.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened or what?” he asked as we entered the privacy of his room. It didn’t look like Caleb was home, so I thought it was as good a time as any to tell him about Brennigan’s and my conversation. I tactfully relayed the whole discussion, editing out some of the hostility to increase my odds of getting him to agree to the meeting on Sunday. It didn’t work out so well.

“One night back in Brennigan’s good graces and there you are again, all distant and devout, Liz. Do you remember what that man did to you? How he treated you? Do you?” Zack demanded.

“Yes, I do. I haven’t forgotten. But it’s not fair to judge me, Zack. It’s Monsignor Brennigan’s job to lead me away from sin.”

“And what am I, sin?”

“No, but I do sin when I’m with you,” I admitted.

“Well, Liz, I know how to solve that!” Zack went to storm out the door but found Caleb standing there instead.

“Everything okay?” Caleb asked cautiously.

I tried to defuse the situation. “Yeah, Caleb. Zack and I are just having a disagreement.”

“Yeah, Caleb, it’s just a discussion. Maybe you two religious freaks can help straighten me out.” Zack’s voice was threatening.

“Hey, wait a minute, man. Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Why? Is it
sinful
?” Zack spat.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on. Let’s just sit down and talk it out, all right?” Caleb encouraged calmly.

“Why don’t you guys talk it out? You two enjoy each other’s company so much,” Zack hissed.

“Hey, now, that’s not right!” Caleb’s voice was becoming heated.

“Nope, you can have her. I’m done with this.” Zack stomped off, slamming the door.

“Zack, you’re going to regret this,” Caleb called after him. When he turned back around he found me huddled on the floor beside Zack’s bed, sobbing.

“You okay, Liz?” Caleb asked, bending down to brush the hair from my eyes.

I could barely talk. I just kept crying. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my body as it still beat in Zack’s murderous hands. This was the worst. Way worse than finding out that I wasn’t Sarah Perkins. Worse than when Kelly and Brett left. This was, by all comparisons, the worst pain and heartache of my life.

I tried to find my words so that I could explain to Caleb. “Z…Z…Zack,” I sobbed. I took a couple more deep breaths and then tried again. “He hates the church.”

“Liz, he just doesn’t understand it.” Caleb rubbed my shoulder as he tried to lift me from the soggy corner to the bed.

“Father talked to me tonight.”

“What? Is that what started all this?”

“Yes. He said that if he met Zack, then maybe he could forgive me.”

“What did Zack say?”

“I think you heard what Zack said.” I rolled my eyes as I blotted tears from my cheeks.

“Liz, Zack isn’t the first to loathe St. Matthew’s. I know that they have a lot of prestigious advocates, but they have equally as many enemies.”

“What?” I gasped.

“That’s why my family is always fighting. St. Matthew’s divides us,” Caleb confided.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t fully understand, either. All I know is that my dad hated his dad’s devotion to St. Matthew’s. If you think I’m rebellious, you should have seen my dad when he was younger. He’d complain that my grandfather was a different person around St. Matthew’s—moodier, more judgmental. With his ‘holier than thou attitude,’ my dad would say. So when he was old enough, he married my mom and took off. When I was younger we lived in Washington state, far from St. Matthew’s reach. But when I got older, my dad and grandfather made some sort of a deal and we moved back. Ever since, my dad and I are replaying the roles he and his dad set up. I think my dad’s all moody and unreasonable. He thinks I am acting out my youth, waiting for me to ‘take responsibility like a Price.’ I hate it. It’s all a little too weird for me. Frankly, when we’re away from here for any length of time, like on vacation or something, we all get along great. When we come home and start going back to St. Matthew’s, it’s like World War III at our house.”

“I don’t understand. Why don’t you and your family just leave or move?” I asked, like the solution was so simple.

“It’s my grandfather and his hold on my dad. It’s St. Matthew’s hold on him. The loyalty clause plays into it. I don’t know it all. It’s complicated.” Caleb hung his head in defeat.

“The loyalty clause can span generations?” I asked with amazement and fear.

“It seems that way.”

When Zack never returned, Caleb drove me back to my dorm. The next day Zack skipped his classes with me. Caleb said he hadn’t seen him, either. I was lost in a downward-spiraling depression. I needed to talk to Zack but he was nowhere to be found.

Wednesday he wasn’t in class again. I didn’t know how long this would go on. I walked to St. Matthew’s for evening Mass and confession. I knew
that Monsignor would ask me about Zack’s decision. I didn’t know what to tell him. As I walked, I contemplated. I decided I would deal with it when the moment arose and not before. After all, Zack could change his mind, although I knew it wouldn’t be likely.

When it was time for confession, I stepped into the confessional and there sat Monsignor Brennigan. He did not get up and leave; instead he heard my confession all the way through, and at the end he gave me absolution. I kissed his ring respectfully and took my seat in the pew next to Sister Christine. She looked as disapproving as ever, but her face hinted at something more. After the last few sleepless nights without Zack, the murkiness returned to my mind, leaving me in a haze.

After Mass I exited through St. Matthew’s massive front doors. Waiting for me were Lucy and Caleb.

“We thought ya could use a ride home.” Lucy’s voice was upbeat. I knew Caleb had told her about what happened with Zack.

“Thanks, you guys. I appreciate it.” I hugged them both before climbing into the back seat.

I was quiet the whole way home, lost in my fog. Lucy did most of the talking, like always. Caleb listened intently, like a doting boyfriend. I sat motionless, trying to forget the void where my heart used to be. We pulled up to St. Augustine and they let me out. It seemed like it was date night for them, so they were going out. I walked slowly and sullenly up to my room and put myself to bed alone again.

Thursday night when I got back to my room after another night of holy chores, I plopped down on my bed, unwilling to budge. The desperation and loneliness of my broken heart took over, squelching my will to go on. Then the tears came, followed by the relentless sobbing. I fell over and smashed my face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds of my unearthly sorrow. Next thing I knew, the phone was ringing. At first I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t have the energy or desire to talk to anyone. I just wanted to be left alone to die a slow, painful, emotional death. Then I thought,
What if it’s Zack?
I leaped to my feet and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” My voice was horse and raspy from crying.