Was Tessa thinking abouthim?
If he went on like this, he would have no choice but to mortify his flesh in earnest. His confessor suggested it. Joseph had not punished himself in that way for years, but he still owned a discipline. He dug it out of his bureau and laid it on top, praying the mere sight of the scourge would chase away his dreams.
It didn’t work. The next morning, he woke certain he could smell Tessa’s perfume. Knowing she waited a few streets away and forcing himself not to go to her—that was an agony greater than any lash.
CHAPTER 41
There is no heresy or no philosophy which is so abhorrent to my church as a human being…
— James Joyce, 1902 letter
On Friday afternoon, his father appeared in the cathedral sacristy, glaring like some avenging angel. Perhaps a fallen one. “It’s been aweek, Joseph. Every day when I visit her, Tessa asks about you. What am I to tell her?”
Joseph returned his attention to the vestments he’d been inspecting for mold and insect damage, even though that was the sacristan’s job. Joseph had found himself with a few spare minutes before Vespers; and he knew if he did not fill them with work, he would spend the time day-dreaming about Tessa. “Father Baker has been convalescing. I have been occupied with his duties as well as?—”
“Are Tessa and Clare not also your parishioners? According to your Church”—he jammed a finger at Joseph in accusation—“she has buried six children—six—without hope of ever seeing them again because they didn’t have water sprinkled over their heads.” He fluttered his fingers in a mockery of Baptism. “Naturally Tessa is eager to secure eternal happiness for her one living child. Yet you—their Priest—are behaving as though Tessa and her daughter no longer exist.”
Joseph felt as if his father had stabbed him, but he could not allow the man to see this. “You said Clare was healthy.”
“I am not a prophet, Joseph. From one day to the next, anything might happen—you know that. If you’d had an ounce of sympathy, you would have baptized Clare the night she was born in her mother’s presence.”
“The short form is only to be used in danger of death; at all other times, the solemn rite must?—”
His father slammed his hand on the vestment cabinet. “Shut your Ritual andbe a Priest, Joseph! Tessa nearly died! She is still bedridden! You make sick calls every day. Why haven’t you visited her?”
Joseph closed the sacristy door so that no one in the sanctuary could hear them. Before he turned back, he asked: “She’s recovering, isn’t she?”
“Physically. But have you thought about the gaping wound you left in hersoul?”
“I think about Tessa’s soul every day—every minute! It iswhyI must stay away. I cannot be her Priest any longer. We are nothing but a temptation to each other!” Joseph realized he’d been speaking as though his father were privy to his private sins—and to Tessa’s. Joseph narrowed his eyes. The man was completely unperturbed by what should have been a revelation. He only stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. “But how could you know…” Joseph’s mouth fell open. “You were listening outside Tessa’s bedchamber. You heard her Confession!”
“I had to stay close enough to hear you calling for help.”
“You violated a Sacrament!”
“I didn’t hear anything Hélène, Liam, Hannah, and I hadn’t figured out ages ago.” His father gave a short laugh. “We’ve been watching the two of you foryears, wondering how long it would take before one of youfinallyadmitted it.”
LiamknewJoseph lusted after his sister?
His father added with a sigh: “For a bright man, Joseph, you can be incredibly dim.”
“Fine,” Joseph spluttered. “We’ve admitted?—”
“Sheadmitted it.Youdid no such thing. You left her believing that she is depraved for the unpardonable sin ofloving you.” With every word, Joseph felt he was shrinking, as his father seemed to loom taller and taller. “You have watched that woman suffer for nearlysix years. You chained her till death do they part to a callous fool who cares nothing for the mind or the heart inside that beautiful body. You have seen her lose six children for all eternity, not to mention Sophie. You have heard her blame herself for every one of these tragedies. After all of that, the man she loves and respects most in the world, whoshouldbe her refuge and her defender—what does he do? He damns her and he abandons her.”
“I didn’t damn her!”
“You didn’t forgive her.”
“I was interrupted! I was going to say that?—”
“Don’t tellme, Joseph—tellher.”
Joseph threw up his hands. “What would that accomplish? It doesn’t matter how I feel! We cannot?—”
“It matters a great deal to Tessa.”
“There can benothingbetween us! Do I need to list the impediments?”
