Page 104 of No Stone Unturned

“Mi scusi!”he said.

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” she said in English. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Um...non c’è problema.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I speak English. Are you okay?”

She rose to her knees, putting her hand in his so he could pull her to her feet. He was momentarily taken aback by the gloves on her hand.

“Oh, my. Are you injured?” he asked.

“No. I have psoriasis. The gloves are protection against the sun.” She started gathering her books, so Julian knelt and began to help her. As they crawled around, he noticed the beautiful silver crucifix she wore around her neck. He’d seen a cross like that before, but exactly where eluded him.

“I really must apologize again,” she said. “I’m such a klutz. Oh, wait, are you a priest? Well, that was a dumb question seeing as you’re wearing the cassock.”

Julian smiled. “Yes. I’m a priest. Are you visiting Rome?”

She shook her head. “No. Not exactly. I’m a journalism student at the university. Is your church here in the neighborhood?”

“I don’t have a parish. I work at the Vatican.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? That is so cool.”

“Well, I think so.” He smiled indulgently.

“Hey, do you think I could interview you? I’m doing a feature article about priests at the Vatican for my college newspaper back in the US It’s titledThe Path to the Vatican.If would be so great to hear all about how you became a priest and how your career led you to the Vatican.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I’m just a clerk there.”

“That doesn’t matter to me, and it won’t matter to my readers. I think the kids would be interested in your story.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Do you have a few minutes? We could sit on that bench over there. It’s a nice evening and we could talk.”

He looked around. She was right. It was a beautiful summer evening. A couple were strolling hand-in-hand along the path and a woman pushing a pram was not too far behind them. Teenagers sat in the grass, legs tucked under them talking and laughing. There was no reason he had to rush home to an empty apartment. Besides, he enjoyed practicing his English.

“I guess I could spare a few minutes.”

“Great! Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

They sat on the bench. The young woman put her books on the empty space beside them and pulled out her cell phone.

“Is it okay if I use my cell phone to record our interview?” She smiled at him, and Julian thought she had a really nice smile.

“Sure, I guess that would be fine.”

“By the way, my name is Lara. What’s your name?”

“I’m Father Julian Koenhein.” He spelled his last name when she asked him to do so.

“Okay, let’s start at the beginning,” she said. “How did you become a priest?”

He walked her through his life, pausing only when she asked follow-up questions. Before he knew it, more than an hour had passed. An hour he’d greatly enjoyed. Maybe this was a sign from God that he needed to get out more—have meaningful conversations with people other than the priests in his office.

She finally clicked off the recorder. “Thank you so much. Do you mind if I take your photo to accompany the article?”

“Of course.”

She snapped a couple of photos and frowned as she studied them.

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