“Uh, I thought you always wore those types of clothes you had on last night, with the robes and everything.”
“No, not always, but I do wear them when I’m leading a service or I’m somewhere I need to be known as a priest, like a church function.”
“Oh.”
There was a silence between us that stretched out, and then he went into the bathroom. I had no idea what to do with myself, so I washed the dishes, and by the time the kitchen was clean he was calling for me at the front door. I put on my shoes and followed him outside into a warm, breezy day.
Last night I hadn’t been able to appreciate the walk to Daddy’s house because I was too cold and miserable. We weren’t in the nicest neighborhood, but every now and then there were trees or flower boxes breaking up the sidewalk, and the sun shined like we’d never had a day of rain, warming everything with a sultry heat. Sweat stood up on my skin, but after how cold I’d been yesterday I didn’t care. It was wonderful.
Tears came into my eyes as we walked. Daddy was next to me in public, not in front of me, not yelling at me, and when he caught my gaze on him, he smiled.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded but wasn’t sure what to say or how to explain the way I was feeling.
He rubbed my back between my shoulder blades, and I wanted to throw myself at him, but I’d already done that once today and didn’t have the courage to do it again. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to grab something out of his pocket.
The church had come into view while I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, and I was startled by how close it was when I glanced up. I’d mostly just been following Daddy, and I was sad our walk was coming to an end.
The big white cross stuck above the doors on the front of the massive building was intimidating. Pink stones had been used to build a bell tower that shot straight up from the rest of the gray brick building and had a shiny black slate roof. The white metal grate hiding the bell inside was crooked, maybe damage from Hurricane Ida? More of the pink stone outlined the stained glass windows. Last night I’d only been concerned with finding a spot to get out of the rain for a few minutes, and if I would’ve noticed the window to the right of the door that showed a Roman soldier stabbing Jesus, I might’ve reconsidered.
As we went up the concrete steps, he held up a ring of keys, and they jangled with metal music as he unlocked the big doors. Before he opened the one on the right he stopped and turned to me. His sweet smile was gone, but he didn’t seem angry. Maybe serious?
“I have a request, and it’s important to me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but do you think that while we’re in the church you could call me Father? You don’t have to use my name, but calling me Father would make things easier.”
Father was like a more formal Daddy. Why not? “I like that. Father. I’ll do my best, but I might mess up.”
“That is okay. And do you remember my name is Gian?”
“Yes,” I murmured, though my belly squirmed. I was glad he hadn’t asked me to use his name because it would’ve felt completely wrong.
“Good.” He gave me a soft smile, and I couldn’t believe how nice he was being to me. “Come on.”
I followed him into the church. Last night I’d been scared and tired, and while the building looked the same today, it also seemed very different because now I was able to focus on it. The wooden pews on either side of the central aisle all glowed, though a few could use some polish like the furniture in Daddy’s house. There was a large wooden box on the wall to the right that I thought was called a confessional, but I wasn’t entirely certain. It also appeared as if it could use some elbow grease. The stained glass windows that surrounded us were beautiful, patched together with different colors, and I could’ve stared at them all day.
I followed Daddy—no, in here he was Father—through the pretty church and out a side door on our left that led to a hallway. At the end were large wooden double doors, and he shoved one open, then waited for me to go in ahead of him. I stepped through into what felt like a cave because the ceiling soared high into a dome. There were large windows lining the walls in this room, similar to the main church, but it was a hall of some kind. There were at least thirty long tables set up and they were all stacked with piles of clothing. The smell of clashing fabric softeners hung heavy in the air.
“Okay, so for the clothing drive, all the donations have been sorted into the proper sizes by the Sisters of Mercy, who are some of the most wonderful women to walk the earth.” He smiled at me, and I enjoyed the way he seemed really happy to talk about them. He wasn’t snarky or nasty or rude when discussing other people, and it was such a relief. “They’ll probably be in later to fold the clothes and organize them better. I thought maybe you could help them and start folding? Maybe put all the pants together for each size in any way it makes sense. Put all the jeans together, all the white T-shirts together. You understand?”
“Yes, Father.” I was proud of myself for remembering to call him the right name and could barely stand the delight that rolled through me when he smiled.
I glanced out across the room and some of my excitement faded. “That’s a lot, Daddy. What if I don’t finish? Will I be punished?”
He startled, then his breath caught. “No. Never. What did I ask you to call me?”
“Sorry. Sorry, Father.” I wanted to go to my knees, but he caught my elbow when I began to sink to the floor.
“It’s fine. Please, do what you can. If you have any trouble, come find me in my office. It’s there.” He pointed back into the hallway, and I noticed a door I’d walked right past to get here. My heart began to pound harder—maybe I really didn’t notice things and really heard the wrong things. What if I messed up and thought I was doing the right thing?
“Thank you for telling me where you’ll be, Father,” I said quietly. He leaned closer to hear me.
“You don’t have to thank me, I don’t mind. We’ll get food together later. If you’re hungry before I come find you, please come to the office.” I nodded even though I already knew I would absolutely never bother him while he worked—his time was too important. With a final smile, he disappeared back along the hall.
The doors closed.
Even though the sun streamed in through tall stained glass windows displaying angels with trumpets, which painted the space in blue, red, green, and yellow, it was a little scary to be in the big room alone. I went to the first table on my right—it was stacked with kids’ clothes—and I started folding tiny baby pants. It was fun because I’d never seen anything like them, and I enjoyed putting everything into matching piles. I hadn’t gotten very far along when two women came through the double doors, and I dropped the shirts I’d been folding. I swooped down to pick up the tiny clothes and brushed them off while the ladies chuckled, though not in a way that made me think they’d tell on me so I would get into trouble.
“Oh, hello! Father Gian said we had a helper. I’m Sister Mary.” The woman who came toward me was short with wrinkles creasing her friendly cheeks and the corners of her eyes. She had gray hair that curled around her shoulders and didn’t look like a nun, at least, not to me. She wore a simple black T-shirt and pants, not too much different from Father. I hadn’t spoken with strangers in forever and found myself only able to nod at her.
