Page 22 of On Your Knees

“Is your mom going to bring you to church?”

Nate looks at me, waiting for me to provide him with the answer.

“Unfortunately he has to go back to his father’s place early on Sunday.”

Father Carmichael doesn’t skip a beat. “That’s ok. Maybe I can show you the church tomorrow? Would you like that?” he asks my son.

Nate smiles. “Yes.” He glances at me. “Can we do that, Mommy?”

I lick my ice cream. “Sure.”

Father Carmichael’s eyes meet mine and for a second I picture myself calling him by his first name. Benedict. What it would feel like to know this man not as a priest, but as a man.

“How long have you been a priest?” I ask him.

“A long time.” His cone is nearly gone as he answers.

“Are you happy being one?” What am I asking this man? I can’t believe I just said these words aloud. Of course he’d never tell me if he was unhappy.

“Sometimes.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“The Lord’s work is tedious. Sometimes I feel like I’m not on the right path. That any little thing could set me off course.”

I finish off my cone as I listen. “Oh,” I finally say, wondering if he’s talking about me setting him off course.

Even though nothing’s ever happened between us outside of my mind, I wonder if that’s what he’s talking about. I wonder if he feels this insane connection between us like I do.

“Sorry.” He brushes off the conversation with a smile. “I guess this subject is a little heavy for ice cream talk.”

“I’m sorry.”

Father Carmichael stares directly at me, his eyes lighting me up from the inside out. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that.”

I almost want to apologize again but I keep my mouth shut.

“What time did you want to stop by for the guided tour?” Father Carmichael asks Nate more than he asks me the question.

Nate again stares at me for the answer.

“A little afternoon. Maybe one o’clock?”

Father Carmichael stands from his seat. “I’ll be counting down the hours. Have a nice night.”

I suck in a breath as I watch him walk away.

Later that night, as I have my son nestled into my side and we’re both falling asleep, Nate asks me about the church.

“That man was nice,” he says in a tiny voice.

“He was nice. He’s in charge of the church.” I explain as much as I can about the church and I’m sure Nate falls asleep as I do.

I can’t stop thinking about Benedict as I lie in bed, counting down the hours until I see him again too.

The way the man wears black should be a sin. It should be considered one of the cardinal sins and Father Carmichael should get on his knees and pay penance for what he’s done.

I wake with a jolt, startling myself out of bed.

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