Page 42 of Release

Chapter Ten

I spend most of the event ducking and dodging not only Declan, but George. I don’t stand where George can look me in the eyes, or easily watch me, which usually puts me out of range of Declan, too.

I know how to play this game.

And when Declan realizes Junior’s one of the whales, I’ve already sent Corene in to grab Dec and set him up to talk with one of the on-air weekend anchors from a Chattanooga TV station whom I promised earlier could have about twenty uninterrupted minutes of Declan’s time.

I make myself scarce, staying on the fringes, talking to the people I need to talk to, and making sure I’ve touched base with every elected official in attendance, from General Assembly Reps and Senators, all the way down to a few school board members.

I also snag Corene and give her final instructions before I skate out of there nearly thirty minutes ahead of George and Declan, which I’m sure will irritate both men. I’m already miles from there when my personal cell dings with a text message on Signal. I wait until a stoplight to check it.

Declan.

PLEASE come over and talk when we get home.

I shoot off the reply I already had queued and ready.

Not tonight, sorry. I’ve got plans. You guys have fun. Be my good boy. :) I’ll check in with you tomorrow afternoon.

I blink back tears as I turn my phone off and set it aside.

It’s a little after four when I pull into the parking lot of the restaurant outside La Vergne and head inside.

I leave both my phones in my car.

Benjamin smiles and stands when he sees me. Today he’s not wearing his priest garb, thank goodness. He looks good in his jeans and a button-up shirt, no tie, his sleeves rolled up his forearms. We hug for a long moment.

“It’s good to see you, Ma’am,” he softly says.

“Good to see you, too, boy.” I pat him on the back before we end our embrace.

We’re in a booth, but he waits until I’m seated before he retakes his. He’s put me so my back is to the rest of the dining room, and we’re almost in a corner.

Fairly private.

Once the waitress takes our drink orders and leaves us alone, he leans in close. “I’m glad we could get together tonight.”

“First of all, how’s your friend?”

He nods. “He’s still in ICU, but he came through all right. Should be moved to a regular room in the morning. Doctors say he should make a full recovery.”

“When do you fly out?”

“Monday afternoon.” His hands are on the table, but he’s not assuming anything.

I reach out and take his hands and gently squeeze. “So what’s the latest?”

He blushes, and it’s as adorable now as I remember. “I’m still…in shock,” he admits, smiling.

“That’s not an answer, boy.”

His blush deepens. “I heard back from the Bishop on Wednesday. I’m getting my own parish.”

“So they fully ordained you?”

He nods. “Yeah. Once I completed a few classes, they…” He meets my gaze. “I should’ve listened to you years ago.”

“Yeah, well.” I shrug. “No one’s perfect. Not even a priest. They still call you a priest, right? Or do the Episcopalians have some sort of weird title?”