My first impression of this church was that it would make a fantastic hotel. But now I’m not so sure.
For some reason, I’m thinking family home.
I mean, hear me out for a second. Right now, sure, it’s cold and austere, and gives me a bit of an Addams Family vibe. But with the right decorator’s touch, renovations to all the rooms, maybe knock through a couple of the school rooms here and there… You could definitely raise a family here. A big family.
As we head up in the Mustang, past the church buildings and on up a barely visible path to an overlook that belongs to the church, I’m getting visions of picnics with children. My children. Children I don’t have yet but maybe…
Maybe…
“Pretty secluded,” I point out. “You could do anything to me and nobody would know.” He stares at me and I grin. “What? I’m just saying. In a way, you own this land, right? So, I know, the vows and all but…. No jail time if we got caught.”
I want to ask the big question but my heart would break into a million tiny pieces if I didn’t get the answer I want.
Are you going to forgo your vows? Are we going to really be together?
He said he wouldn’t…consummate because of his vows, but, so does that mean forever? These are important questions and I’m caught up in how I feel and avoiding the glaring red flats flapping over his head.
He smirks giving me nothing to build on as he pulls up on the grass, and the ocean stretches in front of us like a metaphor for the rest of our lives. Ours to shape as we like. Ours to explore.
“I don’t own this land,” he says as he shifts the car into park. “But… Well, I might.”
“What? The church owns it, right?”
“The did, or do. It’s not a done deal yet so I don’t want to write checks my ass can’t cash, but it’s been a part of the plan for a while now especially when the renovation costs started to skyrocket. The church isn’t usually interested in selling old buildings or land, but this one costs a lot to keep for the few parishioners that use it. The population here has declined so much and lets face it, Maine is not going to see an population explosion anytime soon.” He pauses on that, his eyes licking up and down my body leaving fire in their wake and that ovarian flex I keep feeling returns.
“My grandmother has a lot of influence, that’s the meeting I was at for two days. Working out the details. She was there too, she’s made huge donations to the church. Makes a difference.”
“Wait, so you’re going to own all this? As, like, arch deacon or whatever?”
Please, just say you’re not going to be a priest. I’m sorry God, I don’t mean to steal him from you, but if you don’t ever make mistakes, then you put us together, so seal this freakin’ deal already, I’m dyin’ here.
Martin laughs. “I’d have the space to make a serious laboratory. Research, invent, maybe I could come up with a cure for cancer after all, or contribute to some developments that make a real difference in people’s lives around the world. My best friend has been pushing me to come partner with him. He has a big research supply company. That was always my dream. My other dream I mean.”
“And the church would fund all of this?”
“No. I… I have money, Kitty. A lot of money. Money isn’t the issue. When my grandfather—my mom’s father—died, he left a sizable fortune. He gave half to my grandmother and half to my mom, and she left all of hers to me. It’s in a trust. Since I took my vows, I haven’t touched it, so it’s technically mine, but not until I invoke the terms of the trust and take over as executor. It’s weird, semantics but I don’t’ want to be the asshole here, but I gave my life to the church, I didn’t really want to give them all my money. Even priests have secrets.”
Like me. Does that mean I’ll be a secret forever too?
“But it’s enough to buy this place and finance a company with your own lab and equipment to develop, like, whatever you’re thinking of developing? That’s serious fuck you money.”
“I love your dirty mouth.” He turns in the seat and reaches out to brush a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Is that how you know Hoover? Because you’re both super rich? Did you like, meet at a cocktail party on a yacht or something?”
“No. I don’t know Hoover, not really. Just enough for him to trust me with you.”
I think about that, then nod slowly. He’s always talked about trust, and I do trust him. I have to just go with that.
Looking around at the overlook, and the church buildings, the school, I get that image again, of raising a family here.
“It could work,” I say to myself. “Of course, I’d have to deal with Mom. And Hoover…”
“What could work?” Martin gives me a sexy smile and I decide to light this candle.
“You. Me. Here in this place. It needs work, but… We could be happy here.” I focus on his face. The twitch of his eyebrow, the way he grinds his teeth…
Before he can say anything, his phone rings from where it’s sitting in the console.
Bishop Murphy.
His body tenses, hand dropping from my face.
“I have to take this.” He says, leaving me dangling by a thin thread as he lifts the door handle and steps out into the grass, closing it behind him leaving me alone. Where it seems I am going to end up in all of this.
I’ve baited the hook enough. If this was real, he’d be commsumating all over the place right?
I mean you can have all the fun you want, as long as you don’t knock her up for the world to see.
Is that in the vow contract? Everything but the old dick in the babymaker?
My hopefulness crashes down crushing me with the reality I’ve been pushing away.
He’s the one that said how important vows are.
Out the window, Martin is turned toward the view of the ocean, hand on his head, his other hand holding the phone to his ear as he talks, gesturing every few seconds clearing involved in an important priestly conversation.
Fuck it.
I wasn’t wanted at home and here, I’m just a side-preist’s plaything. Nu-uh. It’s time for Kitty to grab her self by the balls and stop being the sub-character is someone else’s romance.
I ease open the door, the radio playing ‘Born to Run’ by Bruce Springsteen and now, that’s a sign.
I bolt onto the damp grass for the tree line. There’s a road down to the compound just through the trees, I’ll get my phone and figure out my own life. Fuck everyone else. I can do this. I don’t need Mom or Hoover or Martin.
I want him, yeah.
But need him?
Okay, whatever, now’s not the time to split hairs. My feet pound onto the soft dirty path covered with pine needles as I reach the edge of the woods.
Each breath burns as I push my lungs beyond their capacity reminding me I really need to add some cardio to my routine, but fuck it, right now, I just want to be away. Away from the fantasy that is clearly not the same one that Martin is having.
“Okay, just a little farther.” I tell myself as I scan the trees, I dig in my heels as I notice a crumbling stone structure just beyond the pines in a overgrown clearing and I decide to head that way when I hear my name.
Shit, he’s onto me. I figured any call with a Bishop would take longer.
“Kitty? Kitty!”
I ball it toward the structure, hoping there’s some old crypt I can tuck into and hope that he will go on by or head down to the church thinking that’s where I’ve gone.
I slip on the moss that covers the stone steps, swinging inside where the door has long rotted away and press my back onto the stone wall, sliding sideways. The inside is relatively intact if you don’t count the vines that have intruded through a few cracks in the mortar. There’s an altar at the front, the stone wall is broken away and grass has crept over the floor making it look like a green carpet blankets the entire area in front of the carved cross and altar at the front of the small church.
I steady my breath, my belly quivering from the run, my tennis shoes damp and my white skirt clings to the sheen of sweat that’s covering my body.
The birds chirping somewhere in the rafters mixes with a few crickets hiding out in the corners as blood rushes in my ears, my heart pounding into my throat.
His footfalls come before I hear my name and I burst from the corner of the church toward the open wall at the front just as Martin barrels through the open doorway.
“Kitty?” I’m slipping on the stone as he catches sight of me, confusion twisting his features. But, God, he’s fast, he got here in like ten seconds. “What are you doing? Are we playing chase?”
