Page 87 of Priestly Sins

Her: …

The bubbles come and go. They return and disappear. This is torture. It’s worse than no response at all.

“Clara, go grab your momma and tell her we’re having lunch”

“Okey-dokey!” Away she runs.

“Poppa, she says she’s not hungry and that she’s going to take a nap.”

So this is how this is going to be?

“Well, precious girl, looks like it’s just me and you. Wanna be my date?”

“Yes!” I’m not discounting that her exuberance is half sugar, but I’ll take it. Can’t have both of them mad at me.

We have lunch and we watchFrozen.

Again.

I don’t know whether it’s a mistake or not, but I recommendMoana.

So it begins.

That night, nothing has changed. Sirona never comes out.

No breakfast that I can see. No lunch. No dinner. No sounds.

No … anything.

The next day things aren’t much different except that she leaves the room when I’m not around. I can tell by dishes in the dishwasher that she’s had breakfast before I wake. Little things are amiss when I return from Killian’s.

She’s basically living in the house when I’m not and hiding when I’m there.

If I speak, she makes no acknowledgement.

My knocking does nothing.

At first, I’m worried, but as the day goes on, I get pissed.

* * *

By day three,Sirona is firmly encased in a shell. Clara is noticing it, too, and that won’t do.

They’re mine and they’re mine to protect.

But how do I protect them from myself?

“Clara? Want to go see if we can find the Loch Ness Monster?” I know that’s in Scotland, but Clara doesn’t and, quite frankly, I’m desperate.

“I don’t like monsters!”

“What do you want to do then?”

“Go look for mermaids in the ocean?” Again with the question.

“Sounds good to me. Think your momma wants to go?”

“I’ll ask her!”