20. Seize the Day
SOUNDTRACK: Atlantic by Sleep Token
~ brIDGET ~
Look at me, eating breakfast, seeing old men, listening to advice. God, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to turn into a pearl-clutcher.
Maybe that’s the costume I needed to prepare for tonight.
I snorted at the mental visual of turning up to Vigorí in a cashmere sweater, pearls, and with a little dog clutched under my arm.
I wondered what Sid would do with that.
Heart beating a little faster, and smiling because I couldn’t help it, I hurried into the kitchen to make a smoothie.
I had a plan now. My body was still jittery, but the panic was passing.
Either I was going to be hunted tonight, or I was going to have some fun. It was a win-win.
I kept telling myself that all the way through my breakfast, shower, drying my hair, and packing the bag for Vigorí.
But that little voice in the back of my head didn’t want to leave me in peace.
Cain, it said. I need more Cain. These other guys are just… hollow.
But I didn’t get a choice with Cain.
Even “Sid Vicious” was better than another night alone in the dark.
Maybe after I watched him work I’d finally be able to sleep…
When I got to the little church near the highway, I was surprised that there were several cars there already, and the doors were open. And even more surprised to see a little handwritten sign out front that said MEMORIAL with an arrow pointing to the open doors.
Shit. I hadn’t read the email from Richard. Maybe he’d been changing the time?
Halfway across the parking lot from my car I hesitated as an old couple got out of their vehicle in one of the disabled parks and tottered towards the ramp alongside the main stairs to the door.
Was I going to be intruding? But one glance towards the fence at the back revealed Richard’s car. So he was definitely here. I turned on my heel and headed to the little house behind the chapel, but I knocked three times and there was no answer. Which meant Richard was over in the church.
After a moment’s pause, I decided to go ahead and go inside. There weren’t a lot of people here. Either Richard was running this service and I could just sit at the back and wait for him to be done—he’d probably need a drink after that—or he was just over there being nice, and I could wait for him until he was ready to go.
The sun was bright enough outside that when I stepped in the door my eyes took a moment to adjust. The pretty chapel inside looked very dark—the long, wooden pews in regimented lines designed to seat a couple hundred people held maybe a dozen—just pairs and singles scattered here and there around the sanctuary, all with gray hair and wearing tweed or sweaters. All old.
As my eyes adjusted, I caught sight of one younger guy in a white collared shirt under a slim-fitting black sweater and black pants, squatting in the middle of the aisle, murmuring comfort to a couple old ladies. But other than that, it looked like a poorly attended rotary club meeting.
I swallowed hard and started scanning the chapel and pews again to see if I could find Richard, probably praying with some old lady in a corner. Or maybe he was being forced to do the service and he was in the back room getting changed into a funny hat or something?
I’d never seen him wear a funny hat, but I’d always imagined he had a closet full of robes and hats and whatever else men of the cloth had to use when they were called on to give last rites, or whatever.
Then my mind threw up an image of me convincing Richard to let me borrow one of those pope gowns and sashes, then showing up at Vigorí dressed like that, and I kind of spluttered.
The young guy in the aisle turned to look, saw me standing at the top of the aisle and quickly got to his feet, leaning in to whisper something to the old ladies before trotting towards me looking apologetic.
I took a quick second to admire the broad shoulders and limbs so muscular even the could-have-been-a-waiter outfit couldn’t hide them, before seeing the cross hanging around his neck and realizing the guy was obviously another priest.
Then he got into the light from the door behind me and I had to blink because with that dark hair scattered over his forehead and rugged good looks, he didn’t look like a priest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. Mabel just needed a quick prayer. Thank you for coming.”
“Oh!” I said, taking an instinctive step back. “No, no, I’m sorry. I’m not here for the memorial, I’m just looking for Di—I mean, Richard. I didn’t mean to disturb the service.”
The guy’s heavy brows pressed down, forming a V over his nose. “You’re… looking for Richard?”
I nodded and scanned the church again. “Yes. We had made an appointment for a coffee. A… a counseling session, I guess you could call it,” I said, laughing nervously because this guy’s gaze was penetrating and he was exactly my type. Physically. I couldn’t say I’d ever been drawn to the spiritual type. Though it might be fun to try and corrupt one…
I shoved that thought out of my head, suddenly pissed off with myself. The guy was a priest running a memorial service, and here my brain was already painting pictures of taking him into the back room and throwing him down on the funny gowns and hats and—
Stop.
I blinked and looked back at him, surprised to find him staring at me like he was scared.
God, he couldn’t read thoughts, could he? Did God do that? Tell His people what others were thinking?
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said quickly, licking my lips quickly—not missing when his eyes cut down to watch that, then he forced them back up to meet mine. “It’s just that he’s not at the house, so I thought he might be here.”
“He is,” the guy said, then looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Why don’t we just… why don’t you sit down here at the back?” He opened one of those muscular arms towards the nearest pew, which was empty.
I frowned. “I don’t mean to make you go get him. You’re obviously busy. If you could just tell me—”
“No... look, I’m sorry, I’ve been thoughtless,” he said, running a thick, calloused hand through his hair in a way that made my mouth go dry. “I’m not at my best and you took me by surprise. I apologize—let’s start again. What’s your name?”
“I’m Bridget. I’m one of his old students from years ago. I came by last week. He might have mentioned me—”
“Bridget, sorry to interrupt you, but… I really need you to sit down.”
I stared at him as he kept that arm open towards the pew, but used his other hand to gently cup my elbow and usher me towards the seat.
The first flicker of real unease began in my chest as I plonked myself down on the edge of the pew, staring at him.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m sitting down. What? What’s going on? Where’s Richard?” I kept my voice to a low hush, but my tone was snappish.
The young priest knelt down at the end of the pew, just like he had for those ladies deeper in the church, and his forehead furrowed.
“Bridget, I’m really sorry to have to be the one to tell you… but Richard had a heart attack a few days ago. He’s… he’s the reason we’re gathering here today.”