I rested my head against the cool surface of the door. I’d been sitting for a while when Jude returned holding a travel toothbrush kit. He held it up. “I keep these with my personal things in the sacristy. I thought you might want to freshen up before you leave.” Thumbing behind him, he said, “I’ll leave them on the counter.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t clean my own mess,” I said, looking as distraught as I felt. “It’s both disgusting and embarrassing.”
“No different than any other bodily discharge,” Jude said, dismissing my awkwardness. “The cleaning supplies were all nearby in the storeroom. How are you feeling?”
“Better.” My head shot up. “What about the rest of confessions?”
“There was no one after you. I’m familiar with the regulars.” Jude seemed to deliberate on something, then said, “Are you well enough to be on your own in here? I’ll wait for you in the hallway. There are water fountains as well. You must be thirsty.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
When the door closed behind Jude, I looked upward and bemoaned. “Now what?”
I cleaned myself, then tossed the toothbrush but kept the plastic case with the floss and toothpaste inside. I exited the bathroom and found Jude leaning against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankle and his arms crossed. He looked lost in thought and didn’t become aware of my presence until I cleared my throat. I was going to address him as father until I noticed that he’d removed his clerical collar. “Jude?”
He shifted and looked at me with a warm smile that made me return the gesture. “You look better.”
I held out the plastic case to him. “Thanks.”
“Keep it,” Jude said. After a beat, he pushed off the wall and gave me a studied inspection again. In a kindly, understanding tone, he asked, “Did you want to finish confession. I have nothing going on so I have plenty of time.”
I didn’t need time to think. I was done reliving the past for a bit. “Nah, that’s enough for one go at it.”
“All right. Just know, I’m always here. If you need to talk, call or text,” he said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket from which he slipped a business card. He held it up to me. “Use it if you have to.”
I wanted to retort.What if I don’t have to?What if I just want to because I like being with you? I took it, letting my thumb linger over Jude’s fingers, causing an involuntary shiver. Priest or no priest, he was still a man, and he both gentled and awakened every fiber in me. But I wasn’t going to do anything I’d regret. I was done making big mistakes. “Thank you,” I said, taking the card. “And for cleaning my mess.”
“You’re welcome,” Jude replied.
After letting my gaze stay on him for a bit longer, I said, “Bye, Father,” and walked down the hallway to the outer doors and left.
SIX
JUDE
I watchedEthan until he went through the front doors and was out of sight. A rape. I knew whatever Ethan was going to confess had to be significant since he’d mentioned police. But I’d been stunned. After all the transgressions I’d heard as a priest in the confessional, rape was a first. And to hear it from Ethan had been incredulous. I wished I knew the circumstances, only because I was usually very intuitive about reading people. Ethan hadn’t raised any red flags that would’ve indicated a rapist.
Still ruminating about Ethan’s admission and his immediate physical reaction, I walked along the wall in the hallway, entering the nave by the altar rail. Upon looking up at the crucifix, I went to one knee and made the sign of the cross. I’d just got to my feet when a voice boomed from the back and I immediately recognized the bass tenor.
“Father Jude.”
My body still jolted at the unexpected visitor, however much I’d been expecting him at some point. Nevertheless, an internal curse shuddered against my breastbone. Rushing downthe center aisle, I called, “Your Excellency. Welcome.” When I reached the man, I bowed. Taking his right hand, I kissed the bishop’s episcopal ring.
The bishop touched my head, a signal to raise up. “Nice to see you, Bishop Sanchez.”
“I’ll always have a soft spot for this parish,” he said, smiling. “Father, have you been to confession this week?”
“No, Bishop,” I said, dashing his hopes that the bishop had showed up to deliver good news about the laicization process.
“Then I’d like to hear it before we talk,” he said.
I bowed my head. “Of course, Bishop.”
We each went into our respective places in the confessional. Rather than sit on the chair like most penitents did, I kneeled on the padded kneeler. I felt uncomfortable because the position put my face right up to the screen. Too close. I wouldn’t be able to avert the bishop’s searching gaze.
The bishop made the sign of the cross and began. “May God who has enlightened every heart, help you to know your sins and trust in his mercy.”
I replied with “Amen” and questioned whether I was going to have the courage to be brutally honest. I knew my sins. I just didn’t want to be judged for them, which might then affect the bishop’s decision with the laicization. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession.” I paused, and after breathing in, I exhaled silently and then continued. “I lost my patience with Inés. I cursed two or three times but did not take the Lord’s name in vain.” After another hesitation, the words came out quietly. “I’ve been thinking too much about a man I met recently.”
