Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
JUDE
Ethan had held me all night and I woke up with him spooning me and his leg draped over mine as if he was caging me in.
I was crazy about this man. About his sincerity and honesty every time I asked him something.
Mostly, I admired how deeply he loved. Going to Frank to get his blessing was respectful, but also sweet.
I had to believe he’d love a partner or husband with the same loyalty and fierceness.
I made him breakfast yesterday morning and prepared his lunch and he kissed me goodbye, the whole scene reminding me of the old time TV show, The Honeymooners, starring Jackie Gleason, my parents’ favorite reruns to watch.
Currently, I was heading to The Ring. This was the usual day I’d work out and I had to talk to Hawk and explain what was going on.
Ethan had also asked me to assure Hawk that he wasn’t flogging himself.
Actually, when the subject came up, Ethan realized that he hadn’t even thought about harming himself.
Then we’d snickered and concluded that having spectacular orgasms was an effective incentive.
Being mid-morning and mid-week, the gym was usually mostly empty and would grant me the time I needed.
I liked Hawk and we’d always gotten along, even though right from the beginning he had proclaimed his leaning was toward Buddhism.
I’d pretended outrage and challenged him to a sparring. He’d won effortlessly.
No one else at the gym even knew that I was a priest. Hawk did because of my membership application. No one cared. All we talked about while there was boxing, the televised fights coming up, and bragging rights when one of us beat Hawk or the other two trainers.
“Hey, Father,” Hawk called when I came through the doors, using my title when the place was empty.
When I approached his office, he asked, “Not sparring today?”
I wore jeans and a T-shirt and didn’t have my gym bag with me. “Actually, I need to talk to you and figured we could use our regular time.”
“All right,” he said. “Close the door and sit down.”
“Thanks, Hawk.”
Before I began, he asked, “Hopefully, you’re not leaving.”
I shook my head. “No, nothing like that.” I took a healthy breath and said, “What I’m going to tell you is personal.” He started to say something, but I waved my hand. “Believe me, Hawk I trust you to keep my confidence, but I just had to reaffirm. You’ll understand when I explain.”
In a projected silence because I was bolstering my nerve, he said, “You’re really concerning me. How can I help get you talking.”
“I’ve left the Church. I’m not a priest any longer. Well, technically I am but not in my mind. Whew.” I felt like I’d reclaimed another piece of my freedom.
Hawk’s blue eyes opened wide. “Wow, that’s a lot. Do you mind filling in the hundred questions I have?”
“Sure,” I said and relayed a brief version regarding the petition and the open-ended problems with that.
I also emphasized that I wanted to keep a low profile.
“Although, they have no recourse as far as retrieving my physically, one of the priests, Father Matthew, has been aggressively antagonizing me and involving my parents, who are equally enraged with me.”
“Why?” Hawk asked. “You’ve thought about this for years. As for your parents, they should be supporting your decision. You’re what, thirty-five years old.”
“You’d think so. Instead they’ve made life miserable despite my not leaving before this partly because of their disappointment,” I said, emphasizing the word partly.
“Jude, you’re trying very hard not to say something. You’ve already stunned me so whatever you say, I’m sure that I can’t be more surprised.”
I cringed. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure. The greater part of why I’m leaving now is because of someone we both know. A talented boxer, according to you, who has the greenest eyes ever and has stolen my heart.”
Hawk raised his arms in the air and clapped one time while exclaiming, “No fucking shit! Ethan Fuller. How the hell did that happen?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “When he joined here, he hated having to look for parking spaces nearby so he began parking by the church.”
Hawk sat forward in his chair. “Fuck, no wonder the day I talked to him—” He changed direction with his words. “I walked with him to his truck one day.”
Now it was my turn to intercept. “Hawk, he told me to tell you that he found the magic cure to not flogging himself and I’m supposed to point to me. He also apologizes for being MIA but he was helping someone”—I indicated myself again—“go through some intense shit.”
“I’ll be damned. I’m so goddamn thrilled for him. For you both, but he really needed a special person in his life. So, tell me how it started.”
“One day he arrived early and because he had time to waste before coming here, he decided to peek inside the church. He hadn’t been in one for twenty-whatever years.
I happened to be there and our gazes connected.
We didn’t speak. He left and the next evening he came in during confession so he could introduce himself.
So, basically, we met in the confessional. ”
Hawk snorted. “I gotta tell my wife. She reads romance novels all the damn time. Go on, you’ve got my full attention. But before you do, tell your man that I’m fucking proud of him and I can’t wait until he’s in again.”
“I will. Anyway, I’d already submitted my petition and was waiting on a decision from the bishop whether he would forward it to the Pope.
So, the only place we could meet without the risk of me getting caught was in the confessional.
Because we were confined to meeting in the church and couldn’t even hold hands, we talked.
Over the weeks we got to know each other, but then our feelings got involved and during a confession with the bishop, I admitted to having feelings for a man and he forbid me to see or talk to Ethan again.
He suspended me and instead of moving forward with my petition to leave, he went in the opposite direction and for penance instructed me to isolate and pray for six months.
” I shrugged and looked at Hawk. “I couldn’t give up talking to Ethan for six months, knowing that the bishop was going to deny my petition. ”
“When did you actually run away?” Hawk asked softly.
“That night. I left the bishop’s house, went back to the rectory, and wrote three letters for the bishop, Father Matthew, who was my mentor, and my parents. It gave me time before I had to call them.”
“Where are they?”
“Outside of Philadelphia, where I’m from,” I said.
“I left that night and booked a room for a week at the La Quinta by the Long Beach Airport. I told Ethan and wound up checking out of the hotel the next day, and for now I’m staying with Ethan.
He’s been with me every step of the way.
Last Thursday instead of coming here to spar with you, he sat in his truck during my appointment with the bishop and waited for me. ”
“What’s next for you? All you’ve ever known is being a priest, right?”
“I’m not sure what I’m qualified for,” I said, holding my hands up in question.
“And you and Ethan,” he asked, concern in his voice for Ethan, Jude assumed, considering he’d been worried that Ethan might’ve been flogging himself again.
“We’re still getting to know each other.
But we’re having dinner with his boss and his wife on Sunday.
So far, we’re a good fit.” I wouldn’t say more because I didn’t know how close Ethan and Hawk were.
“Anyway Hawk, I just wanted you to know what was happening and why I haven’t been in. I miss coming.”
“Everyone misses you and Ethan.” Hawk’s mouth turned up in a grin. “Strange how you two never bumped into each other here at the gym and then destiny has you meeting in a confessional.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking that meeting Ethan definitely was part of God’s master plan for me.
We both stood then and Hawk came around and opened his office door. I extended my hand and he batted it away, giving me a hug. “Hope to see you soon, Jude. And tell Ethan the same for him. I miss the challenge he gives me in the ring.”
“I’ll be sure to pass your message on,” I said.
As I walked down the middle aisle toward the exit, I took in the assorted smells of leather and sweat with overtones of antibacterial cleaning agents.
I wasn’t a strapping hunk but instead possessed the summer looks and physique of a surfer.
I was strong and more than that, I had an uncanny ability to strategize my moves.
Ah well, I thought and pushed the door open to a world where I felt free.
That was, until a parishioner spotted me and hailed me down. “Father Jude,” she called. “Where have you been? I’ve been so worried.”
Mrs. Clementi was one of the mothers who taught catechism to the first through third graders on Sunday mornings before Mass.
She had four children, two adopted, and was a pillar of the community even at her younger age, which was probably close to my own.
She’d jogged over and wasn’t even breathing heavy.
Stopping short of running into me, she looked at me studiously, then said, “Father, you don’t look sick. ”
“Hello Marie, I’m not. Why would you think so?”
“Because no one’s giving us any answers,” she said indignantly. “Inés claims she’s not allowed to say anything. I even phoned the bishop’s residence, but his secretary was just as closemouthed. I cornered Father Greg after mass last Sunday and he was just as tight-lipped.