Ten
Saylor
Sister Mena had begrudgingly handed me a key to the back door of Threads of Love and Hope before she left yesterday. It wasn’t open on Tuesdays through Thursdays. Which I thought sucked, but it would help with the revamp. But if someone came to the door, needing clothes, I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t let them inside. What Sister Mena didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
By the time I had taken the last load out of the dryer last night and carried it all back to the clothing closet to organize by sizes and seasons—which took me three trips each load because those machines could hold a lot of clothes—the sun had set. I had stayed up late, calling to place orders for clothes racks and hangers to be delivered tomorrow. I didn’t intend to use my money for everything. I was going to get donations, but the racks and hangers were an immediate need.
Three times—or thirty—I had looked down at my phone before going to bed, thinking of reasons to text Father Jude. They were all things that could wait. And just me wanting to text him. Which wasn’t why he had given me his number. I wouldn’t abuse it.
I had woken up early, anxious to get back to the clothes closet, and hadn’t expected to see the church parking lot filled with about twenty-five cars at seven in the morning. Confused as to what was going on, I unlocked the back door and turned on lights to get started. I put the binder I had brought with me again on the front counter, then started separating clothes by color and size to take over to the rec hall and wash. It would be faster if I just loaded the back of my car with it, then drove it over there. I had wasted a lot of time walking back and forth yesterday.
My gaze kept going to the church while I fit two industrial-sized loads in my car, which was somewhere between seven and eight loads of laundry. There was definitely something going on inside. I fought the urge to stick my head in and find out. I got a load going and headed back to work on cleaning things out.
Starting with gross shoes that were beyond saving, I filled two trash bags, went over to the rec hall again and moved the laundry in the washer to the dryer, then started a new load when the racks and hangers were delivered. I tied up the trash bags and started hanging up things that now smelled fresh and didn’t look like they had, in fact, been dug out of a dumpster.
When I was bent over, retying my tennis shoe before I tripped on it, the back door opened. Sure I had locked it, I stood and spun around quickly to see Father Jude. His eyes snapped up to my face, but not before I saw that he had been looking at my ass.
He was in jeans again today. I really liked the jeans with the collar. It felt like a rebellious action.
“Hey,” I said, sounding breathless. “I, uh…you startled me.”
He seemed equally rattled. Either he hadn’t expected anyone to be in here or my ass had done that to him.
“Sorry. I should have knocked. I saw the deliveries earlier, but Mass had just ended, and I couldn’t come see if you needed help with anything. But I’m here now.”
I frowned. “Mass? At seven on a Tuesday morning?”
He grinned. “Weekday Mass is early enough so that those who have jobs can make it.”
Weekday Mass…
Catholics went to church a lot.
“How many times do you do Mass a week?”
“Sunday at eight, ten thirty, and five. Monday through Friday at seven. Saturday at five.”
Damn. That was a lot of reading the Bible.
“When you aren’t doing Mass, what do you do?” I asked, not sure why I was so curious about it, but Father Jude’s daily itinerary interested me. Just like he did.
“I prep for the next Mass in my office, handle any correspondence, work on the bulletin article—that sort of thing. After lunch, I often have counseling hours for families or individuals who have requested it. Late afternoons on weekdays, there is an hour open for confessionals; otherwise, it is thirty minutes before Mass on Saturday and Sunday. There is the men’s Bible study one night a week, a youth group prayer meeting once a week, Knights of Columbus one night a week. Hospital visits are also done in the late afternoons into the evenings. Staff meeting once a week. Ministry outreach leaders meeting. Loss support group after Mass on Saturday night as well.”
No wonder priests don’t have sex. When would he have time to even date?
His deep laugh made me worry that I’d said my thoughts out loud.
“You look distressed.”
I scrunched my nose. “I am. You have no time for yourself. Ever.”
He shrugged. “This is a smaller parish than some. I don’t have a school to deal with and all the headaches that come with that. Although we are looking into opening a preschool in the fall.”
I put my hands on my hips and blew out a breath. “Well, thanks for checking on me, but it’s all under control. You are a busy man, and now that I know just how busy, I feel guilty for wasting your time by asking you twenty questions.”
His eyes did some darkening thing that made me shiver slightly.
“You aren’t wasting my time,” he told me. “If you need me, I’m a phone call or text away.”
I nodded, not sure if I trusted my voice at the moment.
When he turned to leave, I waited until the door closed behind him before I let out a groan of frustration. I wanted to be around Father Jude and not get wet and tingly. Why did he have to do that eye stuff and make his voice deeper? His stubble was returning from the clean shave he seemed to always do on Sundays.
I needed a fan. It was suddenly too warm in here.
My phone rang, and I glanced down to see Gathe’s name.
“Hey,” I replied as I mopped the floor I had cleared today for the second time. I was determined to get rid of the smell in this place.
“Where you at?” he asked. “Because you’re not at home, which makes me proud, considering it’s after seven at night.”
“Working,” I replied.
“Wait a minute. I think there is a problem with the line, or I’m hallucinating. I thought you said working.”
I rolled my eyes, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. “Don’t be an ass.”
“I’m not. But, Princess, you have never worked a day in your life.”
Which was why I was here, doing this—because I was tired of being pointless. Of my days having no meaning.
“The free clothes closet I told you about,” I reminded him.
“And they have you working this late? That’s a free gig.”
Picking up the mop to wring it out, I grunted before responding, “They aren’t making me. I just have a lot I want done.”
“Who is watching you? There has to be some detail there. Especially with you being out so late.”
Shut up, Gathe.
My parents didn’t know about this yet. I’d told them I’d be at the Catholic church again today, helping with a clothes donation, then going to the loss group meeting. Mom had thought my going to talk to others about loss was a great idea. Since I’d be at a church, neither of them had mentioned someone trailing me. If they found out what I was really doing, that would change. Right now, if Dad looked at the tracker on me and my car, it would show me right beside the church.
“No one is here, and I am fine. There is a parking lot full of people for some meeting at the church. I am locked inside. Do not say a word to my parents or anyone.”
Gathe let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I can’t do that, babe. You know why. You need protection.”
“I have my Glock in my purse,” I reassured him.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Setting the mop head down on the floor, I closed my eyes, frustrated with my life and the reasons for all this. I wanted to be normal. “Gathe, please. If Dad or Linc sends someone up here to stand guard all day, they aren’t going to like me being here. And who is Linc gonna send? No one wants to do that. I’ve been here for twelve hours. Twelve. And I am happy. I’m focused. I’m not at home, living day to day, because I found something to do that makes me feel useful. Don’t take this away from me.”
Gathe made a growly sound in his throat. “Okay, what if I have the locks changed and secured and add bulletproof windows, and someone will drop you off and pick you up? If you’re there after dark, one of us will wait for you outside.”
“No to the windows, seriously. And no to the dropping me off thing. I need my car. I go back and forth from here to the church rec hall to do laundry.”
“You gotta work with me here, Saylor. I’m trying, but you have to give more. When your dad and Linc find out, I’ll need to prove I took precautions to keep my ass from getting a beating. Not to mention, if something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
Backing up, I leaned against the wall. “Okay, what if I agree to the bulletproof windows, but you have to get it done overnight so they don’t know it has been changed?” I glanced at the windows, which were in need of a good washing, and wondered how I would explain why they looked so new. “The lock can be done, too, while I am here. I will explain it is just a safety measure.”
“And some drive-bys, and after dark, someone will be watching. That’s a must. It’s not safe for any female.”
“I can pull a gun and pull the trigger just as fast as you can,” I replied.
“I was sixteen when we took you to the shooting range last. I’m lethal now, babe. I play with the big boys.”
I shook my head and let out a laugh. “Whatever.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Yes. But whoever is watching me and standing guard at night, they need to stay hidden. I don’t want the church folks, who come here for something every freaking night, to see them and get scared. It’ll cause issues.”
“You won’t know we are there,” he assured me.
I would. I’d be able to spot them immediately. But that wasn’t a problem.
“I’m hanging up now. I have mopping to do.”
“I’m on my way. I will stay out of sight.”
“Seriously?” I asked, scowling at the wall.
“Is it night?” he quipped.
“Fine!” I snapped, then ended the call.
I swung my glare to the windows. Luckily, they weren’t floor-to-ceiling storefront windows. Just three regular-sized windows on each side of the door. The metal front and back doors would make Gathe happy at least. Explaining the locks to Jude and Sister Mena was going to be tricky.