Page 98
Story: No Stone Unturned
I wanted to get my photo taken as much as I wanted to spend two weeks debugging a new Microsoft patch. But sometimes we do what we have to do.
The pope struggled to stand, wobbling, so Slash put a hand under his elbow to steady him until he took his cane.
“Grazie,” the pope said, smiling as the photographer snapped a photo of them. It was a nice, unguarded moment and I hoped that Slash could get a copy of it someday.
The photographer told us where to stand and arranged our positions. He spent an inordinate amount of time on me, fixing my hair, lifting my chin, telling me to stop scowling and hunching my shoulders. He also straightened Slash’s tie and collar before shooting us from numerous angles and with different degrees of flash and light. I tried to look like I was happy to be there, enjoying the incredible honor of having my photo taken with the pope. Unfortunately I was becoming increasingly agitated and wishing the entire thing was over yesterday. My face was stretching into less of a smile and into more of a grimace. Finally the pope waved his hand to indicate an end to the session. He called over another of the priests and spoke briefly with him, before the priest bowed and moved away.
The pope and Slash exchanged a long glance, and then they both looked at me. I had no idea what was going on. The pope turned and started shuffling toward another door when Slash put his hand in the small of my back.
“The Holy Father is requesting a private audience with us,” Slash murmured. “We’re moving into his private study now.”
“Oh.” I’m sure Slash saw the surprise on my face, but his expression was inscrutable. Together we followed the pope into the adjoining room.
When we were in the study, Slash closed the door behind us. Now it was just the three of us. The pope sank down into a tall chair with a white cushion and gold-plated back. Slash and I took chairs across from him.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me in private,” the pope said.
Slash lowered his head. “I am deeply honored for the opportunity.” He paused and glanced at me.
“Me, too,” I added hastily.
The pope balanced his cane against the side of the chair. He straightened, leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands in front of him.
“Let’s speak frankly, Nicolo. If I may be so bold to ask, what really brings you to Italy?”
I looked at Slash, realizing the weight of the question. I knew next to nothing about high-stakes church politics, but even I understood the delicacy of his answer.
“My brother,” Slash finally answered. “He was refused the right of marriage in the church.”
The surprise on the pope’s face seemed genuine. “Stefan?”
Slash shook his head. “No, that’s my older brother. My younger brother, Giorgio.”
It surprised me that the pope knew and remembered the names of Slash’s brothers, which indicated to me that the pope was very interested in Slash’s life. Perhaps more than Slash had realized.
The pope asked for more detail, so Slash told him what he knew. Eventually, the pope sat back. “I do not understand why the church won’t sanction the marriage. I will personally look into it.”
“I am deeply appreciative of your support, Holy Father. Thank you.”
“Does Father Armando know of this?”
Slash dipped his head. “He does. He is also investigating the reasons for the refusal.”
“Hmmm. That’s interesting because I spoke with him yesterday, and he made no mention of this.”
“I’m sure he didn’t want to bother Your Eminence with such a minor matter. It is not something typically in your purview.”
“All matters dealing with a child of God are in my purview. Especially when it deals with holy matrimony.”
Slash lowered his head. “Of course. I apologize for suggesting otherwise.”
A smile crossed the pope’s face. “I am teasing, you know. But, speaking of matrimony, I understand that you two are to be married.”
“We are,” Slash confirmed.
“I am disappointed that I had to hear this from Father Armando.”
“I apologize again. I always intended to tell you personally. The engagement only recently occurred. So, now that I have your undivided attention, I am most pleased to present Lexi Carmichael, my fiancée.”
The pope struggled to stand, wobbling, so Slash put a hand under his elbow to steady him until he took his cane.
“Grazie,” the pope said, smiling as the photographer snapped a photo of them. It was a nice, unguarded moment and I hoped that Slash could get a copy of it someday.
The photographer told us where to stand and arranged our positions. He spent an inordinate amount of time on me, fixing my hair, lifting my chin, telling me to stop scowling and hunching my shoulders. He also straightened Slash’s tie and collar before shooting us from numerous angles and with different degrees of flash and light. I tried to look like I was happy to be there, enjoying the incredible honor of having my photo taken with the pope. Unfortunately I was becoming increasingly agitated and wishing the entire thing was over yesterday. My face was stretching into less of a smile and into more of a grimace. Finally the pope waved his hand to indicate an end to the session. He called over another of the priests and spoke briefly with him, before the priest bowed and moved away.
The pope and Slash exchanged a long glance, and then they both looked at me. I had no idea what was going on. The pope turned and started shuffling toward another door when Slash put his hand in the small of my back.
“The Holy Father is requesting a private audience with us,” Slash murmured. “We’re moving into his private study now.”
“Oh.” I’m sure Slash saw the surprise on my face, but his expression was inscrutable. Together we followed the pope into the adjoining room.
When we were in the study, Slash closed the door behind us. Now it was just the three of us. The pope sank down into a tall chair with a white cushion and gold-plated back. Slash and I took chairs across from him.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me in private,” the pope said.
Slash lowered his head. “I am deeply honored for the opportunity.” He paused and glanced at me.
“Me, too,” I added hastily.
The pope balanced his cane against the side of the chair. He straightened, leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands in front of him.
“Let’s speak frankly, Nicolo. If I may be so bold to ask, what really brings you to Italy?”
I looked at Slash, realizing the weight of the question. I knew next to nothing about high-stakes church politics, but even I understood the delicacy of his answer.
“My brother,” Slash finally answered. “He was refused the right of marriage in the church.”
The surprise on the pope’s face seemed genuine. “Stefan?”
Slash shook his head. “No, that’s my older brother. My younger brother, Giorgio.”
It surprised me that the pope knew and remembered the names of Slash’s brothers, which indicated to me that the pope was very interested in Slash’s life. Perhaps more than Slash had realized.
The pope asked for more detail, so Slash told him what he knew. Eventually, the pope sat back. “I do not understand why the church won’t sanction the marriage. I will personally look into it.”
“I am deeply appreciative of your support, Holy Father. Thank you.”
“Does Father Armando know of this?”
Slash dipped his head. “He does. He is also investigating the reasons for the refusal.”
“Hmmm. That’s interesting because I spoke with him yesterday, and he made no mention of this.”
“I’m sure he didn’t want to bother Your Eminence with such a minor matter. It is not something typically in your purview.”
“All matters dealing with a child of God are in my purview. Especially when it deals with holy matrimony.”
Slash lowered his head. “Of course. I apologize for suggesting otherwise.”
A smile crossed the pope’s face. “I am teasing, you know. But, speaking of matrimony, I understand that you two are to be married.”
“We are,” Slash confirmed.
“I am disappointed that I had to hear this from Father Armando.”
“I apologize again. I always intended to tell you personally. The engagement only recently occurred. So, now that I have your undivided attention, I am most pleased to present Lexi Carmichael, my fiancée.”
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