Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Mom laughed. “Pneumonia and no. Not your chest. What’s inside of you that makes you feel a certain way.”
I crinkled up my nose. “What’s inside of me?”
“Your soul. It’s the thing you can’t name. It’s the truth of what makes you you.”
I laughed. “I don’t understand.”
Mom smiled. “You don’t have to right now. Just remember this is a place you can come to talk to God about anything.”
“What if He’s busy?”
She leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “Then one of His angels will be listening.”
I hadn’t even realized I was crying until a tear landed on my folded hands. Opening my eyes, I looked over to where the little girl was sitting, and the pews were all empty. She was gone, and so was her mother. They’d gone without my even noticing. The open confessional door caught my attention. Looking around, I realized I was the only person left in the church. My chest had a crushing sensation inside from the old memories of my mom.
“Well, this is where you come when something is bothering you inside here.”
“What’s inside of me?”
“It’s the truth of what makes you you.”
Before I could debate it, I’d stood and headed over to the confessional.
It was surreal to step inside after all these years. I might be twenty-five now, but it was a ten-year-old girl who took a seat. Nothing had changed. The room looked the same as it had the last time I’d stepped inside. I could hear breathing on the other side of the confessional—the priest was waiting. And this time I’d seen him walk in. I knew it was actually a priest.
Eventually, after I debated walking out over and over, I took a deep breath and slid open the wooden window that covered the lattice screen.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been fifteen years since my last confession.”
Except for a few go on and tell me more comments, the priest had been relatively quiet. After a rocky start where I wasn’t sure how to begin or what to say, I miraculously babbled on for the better part of half an hour. It was the most I’d ever spoken to anyone about my mother, my sister, my guilt, or the years of struggle over being ashamed for what I’d allowed to happen.
“What brought you here today? It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of tinking of late.” Thinking—I thought I’d heard a brogue.
Even though I’d come here with confusion over Caine, we really hadn’t spoken about him much. What was bothering me, I’d realized, had little to do with him and more to do with me.
“It’s a really long story.”
“I’ve got nothing but time, my dear.”
I guess priests have heard it all, because after I finished my crazy story, he didn’t sound even the slightest bit shocked.
“Is there anything else you’d like to confess today?”
“Well, it’s been a really long time, so I’m sure I have a ton. I use bad language pretty frequently.”
The priest was quiet for a moment. “For your penance, I want you to say one Hail Mary and one Our Father and complete two acts of forgiveness.”
“Okay.”
I stood and looked at the lattice. The priest was facing the door, and I could only make out a vague profile.
“Thank you for listening, Father.”
I had one hand on the door when he stopped me. “Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“That first act of forgiveness should be easy. You haven’t done anything wrong. You need to forgive yourself.”
After I said my prayers, I returned to my car. It wasn’t until I was halfway home that something dawned on me. I hadn’t told him my name, yet the priest had called me Rachel.
On the way back, I did a lot of thinking. I decided to stop in at O’Leary’s and ask for a few days off. My head wasn’t in a good place, and I really needed to work on my thesis anyway. It was late afternoon, and the bar was quiet, with just a few ex-cop regulars hanging around with Charlie.
“Hey, Charlie. You have a minute?”
“Sure, sweetheart. You’re a heck of a lot more pleasant to look at than these two old guys.” He thumbed his finger at his buddies with a smile.
I took a seat at the other end of the bar, and Charlie filled a glass with Diet Coke before coming to talk to me.
“Would it be okay if I took a few days off? I can ask Ava to cover me.”
“Everything okay?”
“I just need to get caught up on some schoolwork.”
“Sure. Of course. And don’t worry about getting Ava to cover you. I’ll cover your shifts.”
“Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, by the way.” He walked to the register and lifted the money tray, removing an envelope from underneath. “Glad you and that professor broke up. I ran him. He’s got a record.”