Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
“What are you still doing down here?”
Caleb looked up from his computer at the sound of Father Murphy’s voice.
The office was dim, lit only by the small lamp on his desk and the blue glow from his computer screen.
When had the sun gone down? How long had he been sitting in this room fumbling through paperwork and hoping Molly would come back?
Why hadn’t she told him about her job offer? Would she really move to Boston?
“What time is it?” he asked.
“It’s nearly seven o’clock. The Church is full and you’re not even wearing your chasuble yet.” The older priest tsked.
Caleb glanced at his computer screen, the open email to the Bishop’s office staring back at him. Just a few clicks and it would be done. Just a few clicks and this would be the last time he’d put on his vestments.
Was Molly somewhere also changing her life with a few clicks?
“Have you sent it in?” Father Murphy asked.
“I needed to speak with the Superintendent first. Now that’s done, I was just about to.”
“Then you’ve taken my advice.”
Caleb gave a wan smile at Father Murphy’s obvious relief.
“I have. Thank you for your counsel. The last thing I want to do is cause additional distress to the parishioners by hijacking their Christmas Eve service for my own needs.” His smile faded.
“I suppose I had some romantic notions about grand gestures and happily ever afters.”
“And your young woman…”
“Molly.” Even saying her name made his stomach flip.
“Molly. She wanted a grand gesture?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t know what I was planning. But given she didn’t want me to quit for her…” Maybe she doesn’t even actually want this life with me… “It’s better this way. Less showy.”
Father Murphy studied him, years of hearing confessions and providing counsel to the parishioners at St. Anthony making him too observant. “You wanted the show.”
“I love her. I would shout it from every pulpit in the country if I thought it would help her believe it.”
Father Murphy hummed in thought. “I fell in love once.”
Caleb’s attention snapped to the older priest. “You—what?”
“Deirdre O’Brough. The summer after I took my vows, she was visiting family for the summer. She had wild red curls and freckles like you’ve never seen before.” Father Murphy smiled, lost in the memory.
“What happened?”
“Nothing quite as interesting as you and your Molly. It was little more than a flirtation, one kiss behind the giant maple tree out back. And I tortured myself over it. How could I be so newly ordained and already a woman could turn my head?” Father Murphy handed Caleb his alb, watching him with that too-keen attention as the younger priest donned the garment.
“I told my confessor, and do you know what he said?”
“What?”
“If you aren’t falling in love with someone at least once a decade, you aren’t trying hard enough to see God within them.
” Father Murphy chuckled at Caleb’s shocked expression.
“I think he may have been exaggerating a little so I would stop beating myself up over poor Deirdre, but in the end, he was right. I didn’t love her as a man loves a woman.
I loved her because the presence of God within her was so visible.
Right there on the surface. And so, at the end of the summer, we said our goodbyes. ”
Caleb considered Father Murphy’s story as he draped the stole around his shoulders, making sure both ends were even and lying flat.
“Before you walk away from the work you’ve devoted twenty-five years of your life to, Father West, are you sure you love her for more than just the presence of God within her?”
He didn’t even need to think about it. “I am. I have tried not to love her,” he admitted with a sad tilt of his lips.
“I must confess, though, Father, that even if I had been successful, it would still be time for me to leave. She reminded me of all the parts of myself I’ve been suppressing to fit what the Church has asked me to be, and now I see it, I can’t unsee it. ”
“Then I suppose I can’t convince you to reconsider leaving us.” Father Murphy handed Caleb the hanger with his chasuble. The white and gold vestment was heavier than Caleb remembered.
Caleb hit the button on his computer that sent his resignation and formal request for laicization to the Bishop’s office, immediately feeling lighter.
“This will be my last Mass, whether the Bishop is ready to grant me dispensation or not. Though I am sorry for leaving you to manage on your own until the Diocese sends you a new pastor.”
Father Murphy smiled. “We will manage, Father West. And my sister will be thrilled to hear me preach on Christmas Day.”
Caleb chuckled.
“And your Molly?” Father Murphy asked.
A familiar pang of longing wiped the smile from Caleb’s face. His Molly. Was she still his? “That may take some more time to sort out.”
“Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but if you will indulge me for just one more piece of advice tonight—remember Corinthians. Love is patient. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres,” Father Murphy said, clapping Caleb on the back. “And so must you, my friend.”
He knew Father Murphy was right, and yet he couldn’t help feeling unsettled.
It will be fine. She’ll come to Mass, you’ll go to dinner with your friends, and you’ll talk it all out. She got cold feet, that’s all. It will be fine.
But when Caleb took to the altar at St. Anthony’s for the last time and looked out over the congregation, Molly wasn’t there.