Page 5 of Sins of the Flesh
"Beautiful sermon, Father," Mrs.Whitaker says, clasping my hand between her papery ones.Offering a smile I thank her, though I can barely remember what I preached about this morning.
My Father, Father Caleb, passed the position of Parish Priest onto me after his cancer diagnosis when I was 30.This transition was no surprise as I had been groomed my entire life to play this role, the script issued right out of my Mothers womb.
The Priesthood isn’t a standard family business but my Great Grandfather loved the Church and the town so much, having served as their minister and Mayor for 20 years, that he wanted to pass it down to his own Son.
So, he petitioned the Vatican for the right to marry and bear children and when they shot him down cold he denounced the Catholic Church and he converted to Episcopalian, which allowed him to create what has become a ninety year long family legacy.
As a young boy, my future was predetermined with such precision that I could predict each moment and milestone like clockwork.
I was under my Father's strict control, hobbies, TV, movies, and books were all subject to his approval, which didn’t happen often.
When I became a teenager, dating was off the table; my wife was chosen for me by my Father and other church elders.Fortunately, the woman chosen to be my wife was already my best friend, having grown up side by side since childhood.
At 19, I married Allison, and four years later, we were blessed with twins now 20 years old, Joshua and Ashley.Watching my children grow and explore the world was like experiencing a life I never had.
Sometimes I would catch myself feeling envious of their freedom to choose, something I was sure I would never have.
Ally and I knew even before we got married that our children would be raised differently.We wanted them to have the choices we didn’t have.So when our son Joshua chose not to become a Priest, I supported him wholeheartedly.My brother couldn't understand why I would support my Son breaking the family tradition.However, his son Bradley later stepped up calming the uproar.
I love serving this community.It’s a blessing to be a part of the major events in people's lives.To be looked to for gentle guidance in times of uncertainty.To help people who would otherwise be alone.
But amidst all the blessings and fulfillment that come with being a Priest, there's an emptiness that's been growing inside me.A void I've become increasingly aware of with each passing year.Is this all my life will ever be?
Shaking my head I focus on the present as I grasp Gregory Baker's hand firmly between mine."Good seeing you today, Father," Gregory says, his eyes not quite meeting mine."The wife's been asking when you'll come by for dinner again."Offering my practiced smile I respond.
"Soon, Gregory.Give Martha my best."His kind smile reaches his eyes then, causing them to crinkle at the corners and he nods.
As he walks away, I notice Charlotte Hendersen making her way towards me, her hips swaying seductively in her Sunday best which is a little too fitted for Church.Her designer red blouse clinging to her accentuates her curves while her knee length black pencil skirt molds almost too tightly, leaving very little to the imagination and sets her apart from her constituents.
Her bright red lips are curved into an elated grin as she nears.As mayor of Baylee, Charlotte wields considerable influence, which she uses to support the town through charitable acts and advocation.As a bright eyed ingénue, her own Fathers death propelled her into political office.
As Charlotte and her husband George, approach me.Her knee-length coat swishes with her confident stride.The fur-lined hood masking most of her golden shoulder-length curls.
"That was quite a sermon, Father," her husband remarks with a tight smile as he briefly grips my hand and quickly steps back again.Charlotte puts both her hands out and I grasp them,
“Madam Mayor.”
“Caleb, always so formal.”She scoffs with a grin as she leans in to ‘air kiss’ my cheeks, her perfume filling my nose, a heady mix of floral and musk; next to my ear she whispers."You always know how to stir the soul, Caleb."
When she pulls back I smile warmly at her, kissing the top of her small hand."It is truly an honor to serve under your leadership, Madam Mayor."She smiles, stepping back to lean into her husband's chest.
As Ally joins us Charlotte beams,
"Oh, Allison, it's so nice to see you again."
"Likewise, Madam Mayor," Ally politely responds.Charlotte waves, as her husband wraps an arm possessively around her waist giving a sharp nod and leads her away.
The Church steps are nearly empty now, just Mrs.Pendergrass lingering to discuss the upcoming bake sale.
As Ally nods along my mind drifts to the stack of repair quotes waiting in my office.St.Mary's beautiful old bones are showing their age, the leaking roof, the creaking pews, the ancient heating system that makes ungodly noises during winter services.
Mrs.Pendergrass finally departs with promises of samples of her famous apple pie for the congregation.Mrs.Abbot, a widow whose husband passed three years ago from a brain aneurysm, approaches with her arm wrapped around the arm of her son.From a distance, I notice his strong build, the way his simple button-down shirt strains slightly across broad shoulders.
His wild black curls are tamed and styled neatly today, the sharp angles of his jawline are softened by a faint pink blush that dusts his cheeks, making the small dimples on each side pop.His striking light green eyes, similar to his Mother's, seem to hold a world of emotions as they stare back at me.
During the final hymn, I noticed him fumbling with the hymnal, grabbing at it like a cartoon character.It took a lot not to chuckle while standing in front of the entire congregation.Cole was once friends with my son Josh until high school, it seems.
"Father Nichols," Mrs.Abbot greets.
