“I’m not anything.”
The priest continued past the altar and into a side room.
“We call this the vestry. It’s where I dress for services.”
“Oh, I should leave.”
“No need. All I do is put on the chasuble and the alb. Here, give me those.”
“What are they?”
“The Eucharist and the sacramental wine for the service.”
“Better be careful there, Father. Your Boss might not appreciate someone like me handling them.”
The priest chuckled and took the bags.
“You mean that stuff on your jacket?”
“Well, they aren’t stuff. Those patches mean something.”
“I’m sure they do, like my vestments. If I remember my Greek literature, Hades was the god of the dead. Some people equate Hades with transformation. Oh, not like death, but the deep changes that happen from time to time in their lives.”
“That sounds about familiar,” Luke said, amazed the priest was even having a conversation with him.
“So are you going through one of those changes now?”
Luke looked away and nodded. He wasn’t going to lie to a priest.
“And you blame God?”
Damn, he had heard Luke outside. “No, it’s really her parents. The girl’s.” He tried to laugh. “It’s always about a girl, isn’t it?” He shook his head as the priest patiently waited for him to finish. “It’s just that they are very Catholic, and they don’t think someone like me is good enough for their daughter.”
“Really?” asked the priest, his face completely unreadable. “Have you broken the law?”
“No.”
“Drink or do drugs?”
“I drink socially, but I never do drugs.”
“Disrespected their daughter?”
“No.” He didn’t think he had.
“Disrespected them?”
“No.” He hadn’t seen them in over a decade. Well, aside from driving by to drop their twenty-eight-year-old daughter off at her house.
“You work?”
“I own my own business. It does well.”
“Then I won’t ask you who they are, because I might know them, and I surely will know their priest, but I’ll ask you one more thing. Do you love her?”
“Yes,” said Luke quietly. “I always have.”
“Then I’ll tell you a secret,” the priest said conspiratorially. “That’s all that matters.”