Chapter 15 #2
She lifted a finger and tentatively tugged on his collar, not enough to dislodge it, but enough to remind herself it could come off. His eyes narrowed, and she could practically see the gears turning in his brain.
“You’re giving up so much. And I’m not giving up anything.”
“I suspect you’ll need to find a new job once Bruce finds out you’re shacked up with a defrocked priest.”
She shoved against his chest lightly, a reluctant smile on her lips. “I’m giving up a job. You’re giving up who you are.”
“No, not who I am.” He pulled her closer, moving her between his legs.
“I have been more myself in the last two days with you than I have been in years. I’m not giving up who I am.
I’m reclaiming it.” She nodded, letting his reassurance quiet the lingering wisps of worry in her mind.
“Give me a few hours. Come to Mass tonight. Trust me.”
She straightened his lapel, tucking his collar back into place, and smiled wryly. “I wish I could kiss you right now,” she whispered.
He mimicked her with a too-loud whisper of his own. “Why can’t you?”
Her eyes went wide. “We’re in your church.”
He glanced around the room. “We’re the only ones here.
” And there was that grin again, the one that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach and heaviness gathering between her legs.
He dragged his fingers along the waistband of her jeans, hooking them in her belt loops, and tugged. “Come here, angel.”
His kiss was slow and decadent. She focused on the scratch of his two-day-old stubble, the sharp sting of his teeth tugging on her bottom lip before he soothed the bite with the languid glide of his tongue. “Stop thinking so hard, Molly,” he rasped against her lips.
She chuckled, delighted by how well he knew her even as her own mind was at war with itself.
He trailed his lips down the column of her throat, his hands slipping into the back pockets of her jeans and pulling her forward until they were hip to hip.
Holding him to her with fingers tangled in his hair, she sighed.
“Last night…we didn’t discuss how this is all going to work. ”
“We got a little distracted.” She could feel his smile against her skin.
“I guess I’m a details kind of girl. Without knowing how, it’s hard for me to believe I didn’t imagine it.”
He paused in his exploration of her throat, a smile lighting up his face despite the seriousness in his eyes.
“You didn’t imagine it.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest, holding it there so she could feel the pounding of his heart beneath his shirt.
“Here’s how this is going to work. Tonight, I’m going to preach my last homily at Christmas Eve Mass.
Then you and I are going to family dinner to celebrate with our friends.
And tomorrow, we’ll figure out what comes next.
And the day after that, and the day after that, for the rest of our lives.
” Her surprise must have shown on her face because he released a low, throaty chuckle and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Too soon?”
The creak of the door to the stairwell down the hall resounded through the room and they leapt apart, Molly spinning in a circle as she looked for a reason to be alone with Caleb in his office.
For his part, Caleb seemed much less fazed by almost getting caught wrapped in each other’s arms. He bit back a smile as he adjusted the bulge in his pants and took a seat at his desk, the oversized wooden hand-me-down conveniently concealing his erection.
“Father West?” The voice of Father Murphy, St. Anthony’s associate pastor, rang out only moments before the door to the office burst open.
The older man looked out of breath, his silver combover sticking up in odd places as though he’d tried to run his hands through the sparse hair left on his head. “What is this email?” he demanded.
“Good afternoon, Father Murphy. You remember Ms. Proulx from the High School,” Caleb said, gesturing to Molly.
Father Murphy nodded in her direction, then snapped his attention back to Caleb. “We need to talk.”
“I can go,” Molly said, moving towards the door.
“You don’t need to leave,” Caleb said. “This will only take a minute.” Father Murphy’s nostrils flared, clearly annoyed.
“I think there’s one more bag of angel wings in the car. I’ll just go get it and then I’ll come back.” With an uneasy glance at Father Murphy, she added, “Take your time,” before scurrying from the room, leaving the two priests to hash out whatever the hell that was.
She took her time climbing the steps to the parking lot, then leaned against Caleb’s car and took out her phone to buy some time. She’d missed a string of messages in the group chat while she’d been busy kissing Caleb in the basement of his church.
Jo: Molly, where are you? I thought you were going to be home in time to go shopping. I need to get a present for Julie.
Tessa: My daughter doesn’t need anything from anyone. Her room is already overflowing.
Kyla: As if that’s going to stop Jo.
Sabrina: Or any of us, really. Sebastian and I already bought her a giant stuffed hedgehog.
Hannah: Why a hedgehog?
Sabrina: It’s three feet wide and the softest thing ever. Sebastian named it Hedgie, but don’t tell him I told you that.
Jo: See! I cannot be outdone in the best auntie contest.
Tessa: It’s not a contest.
Jo: It’s always a contest.
Kyla: I’ll go shopping with you. Gavin and Brodie are having some father-son bonding time, so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I left the house for a bit.
Hannah: I want to go too. Ethan already picked out a carload of toys for Julie, but I want to get her something special just from me.
Tessa: I’m never going to have a clean house again, am I?
Jo: Please. You never had a clean house to begin with.
Molly grinned. Maybe all she needed was to be back home with their chaotic little friend family to remember even the most fraught beginnings could have a happy ending.
If Tessa and her father’s best friend could do it, and Kyla and her ex-boyfriend's father could do it, and Sabrina and her sister’s ex-fiancé could do it, and Hannah and Ethan could survive the press scrutiny— if all of her friends could figure it out, then dammit, so could she and Caleb.
Right?
Molly: We’re back. Dropping some things off at St. Anthony’s. I’ll be home soon.
Jo: Woo! Girls’ trip to the toy store!
Sabrina: I think we should clarify which kind of toy store you’re planning on us going to.
Jo: Both kinds. One for the adorable little munchkin we all love so much, and one for us to spoil ourselves.
Tessa: I can’t go. I told Jamie I’d help him prep for tonight’s family dinner. You guys have fun without me.
Tessa: And, Jo, make sure you don’t mix up the toy store bags when you wrap Julie’s gift.
Jo: No worries. That’s a mistake you only make once.
Kyla: Can we have one scandal-free holiday, please?
Jo: Define scandal free?
Hannah: No inappropriate photos ending up online.
Kyla: No Grandma Gang cornering my husband to get details about one of our relationships.
Jo: They wouldn’t corner Gavin if he didn’t fold every time Mrs. Greene gave him the stink eye.
Kyla: Just one holiday where we’re all together and happy and no drama.
Tessa: And no sex toys at the dinner table.
Jo: That was one time!
Molly tucked her phone back in her purse. A scandal-free holiday meant no waltzing into family dinner holding a priest’s hand. Which was fine. She could keep this to herself until after Christmas. Probably.
Sure enough, there was one trash bag left in the trunk of Caleb’s car, an iridescent angel wing poking out of the opening.
She slung the bag over her shoulder and headed back into the church basement, determined to say her goodbyes quickly and get home to keep her promise to the girls. It was time to go back to reality.
“You’re being selfish,” Father Murphy's raised voice pulled Molly up short outside the door to Caleb’s office. She set the bag down on the floor and paused, unsure whether she should knock or go back outside and give the two priests some more time.
“I appreciate your perspective, but—”
“You cannot do this. You will make a mockery of this parish,” Father Murphy said, cutting off Caleb’s reply. “You aren’t thinking clearly. I knew the moment I got your email this morning something was off, and then I find you with that woman—”
“She has a name.”
Molly held her breath, shame crawling up her throat and heating her cheeks.
“This is not the time. Your parishioners deserve better from you. Don’t do something rash you’ll regret when you’ve had time to think it through.”
A long silence. Then, “You’re right.”
Molly dropped the bag at her feet, angel wings spilling out onto the beige carpet.
She’d been here before, had been delivered a similar warning she’d been too naive to listen to—and she knew how it ended.
The smart thing to do would be to leave, to get in her car and drive far away, to accept the job offer waiting in her inbox, to start looking for apartments in Boston and never look back.
But her feet wouldn’t move. No matter how badly she wanted to disappear and pretend she hadn’t heard a thing, she wanted Caleb more.
Father Murphy’s booming voice, now calmer, came through the door. “Of course, I’m right. You’ll see. Leave the impulsive decisions to the youth.”
“Thank you for your counsel, Father Murphy.”
The door to the office swung open and Father Murphy startled at the sight of her. He scanned the mess of angel wings at her feet. “Ms. Proulx, let me help you,” he said, bending to retrieve a particularly glittery set of wings.
“That’s alright. I’ve got it.” She flashed a weak smile.
He seemed skeptical but he nodded and made his way down the hall, careful not to step on any of the wings on his way by.
Father Murphy disappeared through the door to the parking lot, but Molly waited until she’d counted to ten in her head before entering Caleb’s office, wings littering the hallway.
Caleb was still seated behind his desk, but his lips were turned down in a pensive frown, the crease between his eyebrows more prominent.
His eyes softened when he saw her. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you got lost.” He sounded tired. Had he sounded so tired before Father Murphy’s visit?
“I couldn’t help but overhear…” She gestured towards the door half-heartedly.
Caleb sighed, running his thumb and index finger over his eyes behind his glasses. “Father Murphy means well.”
“Maybe he has a point. Maybe we are making a rash decision.”
“What?” All traces of exhaustion disappeared from his face, his frame stiff and alert, as though he was preparing to leap out of his chair. “Molly, that’s not—”
“I’m not saying we’re wrong,” she rushed to add, “but I think we need to take a beat.”
“A beat,” he repeated, incredulous.
“Some space.”
He pushed his chair back and rounded on her in one swift movement, taking her hand in both of his. “I don’t want space.”
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I think we should do it anyway.”
His mouth fell open, a puff of air leaving his lungs. “Is that what you want?”
Of course it wasn’t! Her throat constricted, tears stinging her nose and the backs of her eyes.
She wanted him, every moment of him, but not if he wasn’t sure.
Not if one conversation with Father Murphy was enough to have him wavering.
She wanted all of him, every moment, but they’d been so caught up in the last two days, in the dream come to life, maybe they weren’t thinking clearly.
And she loved him enough to give him the chance to change his mind.
“I know what it’s like to have someone regret changing their life for me.”
“Molly—”
“I don’t think I could take it if you ever looked at me that way. And I don’t want to ever look at you that way either.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have a job offer,” she blurted as she dashed away a tear. “A really great job offer. In Boston.”
“You what?” He sounded like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs and his face went white. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to take it yet.
This is all happening so fast. We could both use a minute to be sure this is the right decision.
I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes I’ve already made.
I don’t want to wake up in three years and wonder if we rushed into changing our whole lives.
You’re too important—this is too important for that. ”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, the sparkle gone from his eyes. “Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
“Not goodbye. Just some space to be sure.”
Her hand slipped from his grasp and he stumbled back a step, looking like he’d just been sucker punched. “If that’s what you need.”
She dashed away a tear and left, telling herself it was the smart decision, that a break wasn’t a breakup.
Her feet slid on the gossamer angel wings as she fled the church, tears streaming down her face and her heart screaming for her to go back.
She fumbled with her keys, turning out of the parking lot on autopilot, but she was crying too hard to drive.
She pulled over on the side of the road a few blocks from the church, the steeple with its stained-glass window taking up most of her rearview mirror, and for the first time in years, she prayed.