“Even more courage than I remembered.”
Her fingertips ran circles around the curve of my bicep as she continued on. “I’m so glad I was there with Luce when she had Luca. He’s the sweetest thing. I was there the first time he walked. His first word wasdoggy.” Tears steeped in her love-filled eyes. “Luce even got her own direct sales business off the ground so she can stay at home with him all day. And she’s the best mom, Bastien. I wish…” She paused, looking unsure of whether she should say the next part. “I wish you could see him.”
I wrapped my fingers around her knee, squeezing. “I hope someday.” I shook my head as I reflected back. “I hated leaving so abruptly. I spent so much time thinking about all of the people I’d grown so close to. The cardinal and bishop were at St. Mike’s within an hour of your going to the hospital with Lucy. I remember thinking once I got things settled down at the church, I’d go to the hospital to see how you both were. But once the two of them arrived, it seemed the steps to transition me out and a new priest in were already in place. The following morning, the cardinal informed me of my transfer and somehow impliedI’dmade St. Mike’s a target.” I shook my head at the memory. “It was emotional torture not knowing what had become of you and her and the baby and that kid…”
She swallowed, hands seeking mine, fingers twining together. “They tried to bring him to trial, but he just kept acting insane, saying illogical things. I was convinced it was an act, but Lucy wasn’t so sure. She really worried about him.” Her fingers worked back and forth at my knuckles. “Until he sent the letter months after he was institutionalized.”
“A letter?”
She sucked her lips between her teeth, nodding. “It was hardly coherent. It took us a few tries to read it, and even now, there are parts we can’t understand. But he kept bringing up evil and wolves hiding in holy clothing and, Bastien…” She paused. “He had her key, that means he must have snuck into our cottage. Maybe he even saw you and me…doingsomething. He said deceit and sin still run unchecked in the pews of St. Mike’s and that he’d even called the diocese to report a crime, but they didn’t care. He said over and over,they didn’t care.”
I swallowed, understanding snapping into place. I had no words to deal with what she’d just unloaded.
The idea that I’d held this secret close to my heart a foolish one. Of course, we were caught. We’d lapsed too much, been too risky; it would be unlikely someone hadn’t seen us.
My heart thudded heavily in my chest, a horrible feeling settling that I’d left her there to confront all of this alone.
“Luce and I worked it over a hundred different ways. The only thing I kept wondering…” She frowned, peeling out from under me and tightening the sheet around her body as she stood from the bed and walked to the tiny window looking out on the smoky mountains.
“What?” I sat on the edge of the bed, one hand in my hair, unsure if I was ready for any more of her realizations. She’d had a lot more time to critically think her away around this situation. I was coming in blind to most of it.
“Remember those receipts? The ones you found in the church attic?”
“Yeah.” My mind fought to remember the tiny handwritten slips.
“Do you remember who they were made out to?”
“Evesomebody.”
“Well after Casey sent the letter, he took his own life. The orderlies checked on him one morning, and apparently, he’d been stashing his pills and doing favors to collect a few from other patients, and he overdosed.”
My eyebrows rose at her admission.
“When we went to his funeral, Lucy brought Luca to the church day care for an hour, and we went to the service. Well, we didn’t stay. There was so much media, and when they recognized both of us…then it wasn’t peaceful at all. I snagged a program, and it just so happened that on that program it said he was survived by his mother,EveManiscalco.”
“Maniscalco…” I tilted my head, vaguely remembering the name. “That’s the name from the receipts?”
“Yup. Don’t you remember?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’ve been bringing Ms. Watson dinner a few Sundays a month since you left, and that woman is a St. Mike’s fangirl of the first degree.”
“A fangirl?”
“Ofyou, for starters.” Her eyes twinkled as they met mine. “But who isn’t?”
I slapped her ass through the thin sheet.
“But she’s also been going to St. Mike’s since she was a girl, and I bet you didn’t know she’s kept every single weekly parish newsletter since she started attending with her first husband in 1965?”
I couldn’t contain my laugh. “You don’t say?”
“She’s a charmer, that one, and loves to talk. Even remembers when Casey was a little boy going to St. Mike’s with his mom, Eve.”
“Well, how about that.”
“And she has the series of weekly missals showing Casey’s name as an altar boy under Father Martin.”
