Page 55 of Sire
“Pastor Rutledge!” Why am I not surprised to turn and see AI Karen gushing? “I just loved your sermon today. I’ve decided to spend more time volunteering at my son’s prep school. Right, Dan?” She backhands the man, busy on his phone beside her. “We’re donating more to Cooper’s school.”
“Uh, yeah.” Surprised, Dan glances up. “More money to the school. Got it.” He winks at Sire. “Great sermon today, Pastor.”
“Thank you.” Politely, Sire shakes their hands. “I know a couple of other county schools that could use some generous donations, too. Let me know if you want their information.”
“Yes, we do.” Karen whips her plastic smile at me. “Andwho’s your friend, Pastor? She must be new. I’d never forget a face like hers.”
Oh, I know a coded insult when I hear one.
“Shehas a name and a voice.” I smile, speaking for myself, “I’m Wren Chapel. It’s nice to meet you.”
“And she’s more than my friend.” Gently, Sire squeezes my hand. He won’t let go. “Wren is my girlfriend. I hope you and the parish will welcome her warmly.”
“Girlfriend?” Karen looks aghast. I’m shocked, too, but in a heart-melting way. “Why, isn’t that a little unbecoming for a pastor?”
Sire opens his mouth to speak, but?—
“I am sure it isverycoming for them.” A rich, French accent turns our heads toward the winking blonde, who’s sneering at my new enemy, “God believes in love. Yes? So why should our pastor be denied love, too?”
Inwardly, I’m fist-bumping the queen I don’t even know yet. Without a formal introduction, she’s already stabbing a back that’s trying to stab mine.
And I love her accent. Even her insults sound elegant.
“Why, I just mean she looks too young for him,” Karen drawls. “A May-December romance is highly inappropriate for a man of God.”
“Meh.” The sweet blonde shrugs. “It is better than having a cold, dry January for a marriage. No?”
Eyeing Dan, Karen’s tuned-out husband, who’s back on his phone, the blonde queen scores another point for me.
“Mrs. Cabot,” Sire interjects. “I appreciate that you want what’s best for me, and I can assure you, I’ve prayed on this;Wrenis what’s best for me. Despite our age difference, we have a lot in common.”
It flies all over me that Sire has to be the better man right now. I’d rather have him take out his Glock and tell her to stick her December up my May ass.
“What could you two possibly have in common, other than one immoral sin?” Mrs. Cabot, apparently that’s Karen’s name, isn’t backing down.
Clearly, she can’t have Sire, so no one else can.
I glance and see others gathering around. Sire’s brother, of course. Ms. Davis, the preschool director. A crowd of parishioners, whose eyes volley like they can’t decide which side to take.
Sire saved me, and my instinct will always be to save him, too. I won’t let him lose his parish because of me, because ofus. In fact, I’ll be his partner in Christianity and crime.
I softly reply, “Judge not, lest ye be judged. The Book of Matthew. It’s one of my favorites. It teaches us to have compassion and self-awareness.” I smile. “God, Mrs. Cabot. Our Lord is who the pastor and I have in common. God is who we all have in common. Let us rejoice in him.”
Truth is, I know God is a woman. Watch a baby being born, and it’s obvious. But I’m playing the patriarchy card for the win.
“Amen,” Sire’s brother crows, and the others nod, agreeing.
“Why, of course.” Mrs. Cabot blushes. “Welcome, dear. And praise the Lord.” She grabs her husband’s elbow, hissing, “Come on, Dan. And put your damn phone away.”
Others approach me with warm greetings, but I’m floating. I’m smiling through a haze.
His girlfriend.
I guess Sire is serious. He meant it. He’s all in. It means everything to him to introduce me to his parish, so I remember my manners, shaking hands, and giving warm hugs.
Even Ms. Davis whispers to me with her hug, “I knew it, and I approve. If you get your childcare license, dear, I’d be honored for you to work with me.”
“Thank you, and I will.”
