Page 62 of Priestly Sins

By the time I get into her room, she’s under the covers and her dark hair fans out over the pillow. “Did you decide what we’re going to read?”

She nods and pulls outAmelia Bedelia. This looks older than even her mother’s time, but I begin. By page three, she has given up the fight and her eyes are shut. She rolls onto her side and reaches her hand out for mine. We sit like this as I continue page by page.

I eventually hear Sirona clear her throat, not realizing I have been sucked into the tale of Amelia not understanding her homonyms and trying to keep my laugh low and quiet. Sirona leans against the doorjamb, dressed in only a nightshirt. Her feet are bare. Her hair is piled up on her head, and her hand rests on her hip.

The look on her face is all the motivation I need to close the book, turn off the bedside lamp, and follow her.

To the ends of the earth if I must.

She heads for my room and I don’t question it. I close the door as I follow her in and watch her go to the bed and sit down. I wait. I need to know she wants this too.

“Come to bed with me?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” I grab my Henley between my shoulder blades and have it on the floor before I make it to the bed.

She leans back against the pillow and I lean over her, taking her mouth as if I own it, as if it’s mine and mine alone.

She fumbles with my belt and I still when her small fingers fight for purchase.

“Sean?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about, um… well, your vows. I mean, it’s….” She breaks off and looks back at me. “It freaks me out a little bit. You don’t. But it does.”

Well, that’s a boner killer.

I walk around the bed and sit, jeans zipped, belt open and loose.

“Come here.”

She leans over and assumes a similar position to what Clara had taken.

“No, come here.” I look down.

She slowly scrambles and tentatively straddles my lap.

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

She shakes her head.

“Have you ever heard a lie come from my mouth?”

“Besides the topic at hand?” She averts her eyes. Her avoidance is not like she’s thinking, but like she’s evading my gaze.

“Baby?” Forcing her gaze back, I reiterate, “Have you ever heard me lie?”

I wait. Everything hangs on this. If she doesn’t trust me, she doesn’t trust me, but this needs to be on the table. And now’s as good a time as any.

“I don’t remember you ever lying to me.”

“Think. All the words I’ve ever said to you…”

“I don’t know, Sean.”

“Well, I do.” I wait for her eye contact. “Never once lied to you. Never once asked you to call me anything other than Sean. Never promised you anything I haven’t made good on. I’ve said some hard things, some you didn’t want to hear, but I’ve never lied to you.”

She stares, waiting for more.