Chapter 4
Rowan
Stepping through thechurch doors, I hesitate before going further. I haven’t been in here for about three weeks, and that night I had two weeks ago was wild enough to make the devil blush. After a moment’s thought, I continue inside. Surely, the man upstairs won’t hold my love for the ladies against me.
I make my way down the middle aisle, satisfied that the place is empty. It’s Saturday, so confession is from four to five. It’s five fifteen. Perfect. My confession time is always after everyone else leaves.
My footsteps echo in the enormous space as I aim for the confessional. As always, I admire the impressive architecture and the stained-glass windows that create a soft glow. With a quick glance at the massive cross at the altar, I slip into the little booth and wait for the signal.
The priest gives his welcome and I begin.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been three weeks since my last confession... and may I also make a suggestion?”
After a beat of silence, the voice filters in from the other side. “And what suggestion might that be?”
“You guys really need to make these confessionals bigger.” I shuffle around, trying to get comfortable.
“Well, not everyone is overgrown with freakishly broad shoulders,” the priest quips. Humor laces his words and I snigger.
“Good point. How’s it going, Matt?”
Father Matthew Reilly isn’t really my priest. We’re just good friends. We make an unlikely pair, but we’ve been close friends for years. He’s the only one I allow myself to open up to. Maybe the fact that he’s a man of the cloth and the most non judgmental person I’ve ever met makes it easier.
“Great. Although, I wish you wouldn’t make me sit in here for your confessions.”
“Okay, I know I’m not actually confessing, but this just makes me feel better. And don’t act like you don’t get a kick out of this, too.”
There’s an exasperated sigh and shuffling. Seconds later, the curtain on my side of the booth is shoved aside. Face to face with Matt, I give him a sheepish look. He’s average height and build, with graying brown hair, and he’s dressed in his typical robe.
He glowers at me through amber eyes. “We’re going to my office.”
“Fine.”
Stepping out of the little enclosure, I follow him through the back door and down the long hallway to the last door. Inside, Matt shrugs off his robe and sighs. “Wearing that thing in this heat is damn near torture,” he grumbles.
“Swearing in the house of the Lord? Shame on you, Padre.”
That earns me an irritated glare before he sits behind his mahogany desk.
Smirking, I take the chair in front of the desk. Years of friendship have taught me that priests are humans, too, and they’re allowed to have feelings... and friends.
Matt hits me with a penetrating stare. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I’ve been busy.” I shrug.
“I see.”
“What did you miss? We chat on the phone at least twice a week.”
“But you usually stop by even just for a few minutes, and you flaked on lunch last week.”
“I’ve been doing some extra shifts and my new housemate has turned me into her personal butler. The little mutt drives me crazy. She’s lucky she’s cute.”
Matt laughs, but it sounds way too satirical for a priest. “Right. What are you running from this time?”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“When you don’t want to confront something, you throw yourself into everything else and avoid me like the plague.”
Jaw tight, I brood for only a minute and then sigh my acceptance of the truth. “Only because you get me to talk about my shit and sometimes I don’t like it.”
He lifts one eyebrow in response.
Another thing I like about Matt is that he’s down to earth and doesn’t give me that holier-than-thou crap. I can say shit in his presence without him trying to give me an exorcism.
“Melanie mentioned Rebecca is coming back to town.” My molars grind together. “With James.”
Matt’s eyes widen. “Your mother and father?”