When they arrived, Sam was introduced to Colleen and Rosemarie, Maureen’s sisters and their husbands Paulie and Liam. Rosemarie and Liam Clooney were the owners of the pub. Rosemarie, the youngest of the three sisters, had laid out a feast along the back of the bar for family and friends. Apparently the scrimmage they played at the field was some kind of kick off to summer for the entire town.
She and her husband grew up with Frank, Braydon’s father and Paulie and Frank owned the logging business that employed many of the younger men in the family. Turns out, there was a bit of a scandal back in the day when Frank set his heart to Maureen.
She had been seven years his junior and still in school when the twenty-two year old man fell in love with her. Colleen and Paulie had been the first to know about the secret affair, but when Maureen’s father found out, he threatened Frank with a shotgun. Sam still wasn’t sure if the man actually took a shot at Frank or not. Kelly, who was tending bar, told her his father actually had a scar from his grandfather’s gun.
When Frank absconded with Maureen on her eighteenth birthday and returned with his love under the name of Maureen McCullough, her father was furious. It wasn’t until Frank built his wife a home that the girl’s father actually accepted the union. Legend had it that it wasn’t the age or secretiveness that disappointed Maureen’s father. It was the fact that they’d been married in a courtroom and not in a house of God.
As Sam listened to the love story, she smiled and stared glassy eyed at Mr. McCullough. He might not say much and appear gruff, but he possessed a romantic soul.
Colleen even told her that on Frank and Maureen’s first date, he had taken her for a picnic in the woods. At some point during the date he stopped to carve their initials in a tree. It was Katherine who informed her that that exact tree with her parents’ initials now rested inside the McCullough walls where Maureen could see it every night before she fell asleep.
It wasn’t long before the already rowdy crowd became drunk and unruly. Something called a car bomb was being passed around. Sam wasn’t sure of the exact ingredients, but knew it included a pint of black beer and some kind of shot that was dropped in, shot glass and all.
The men dropped the shot and the dark beer faded to a creamier tint as the shot swirled and clouded the brew. They tilted the drink to their mouths as the creamy liquid rose and didn’t stop until they slammed an empty glass on the bar.
Once Rosemarie cleared away the food, the older couples said their goodbyes and headed out. Other than a glass of wine, Sam had nothing but soda to drink. The air was on in the bar and her seat happened to be under a vent. Braydon was in the middle of a dart game with Finn so she told Kelly she was going to run out to the truck to grab her sweatshirt.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying him or herself. Pat, Sheilagh’s cousin on her Aunt Rosemarie’s side, was actually a very sweet kid. She could see why Sheilagh was so close to him. Pat had spent some time talking to Sam about his feelings for Emily Miller whom he assured was nothing like her older sister Jen. While they spoke, Sheilagh was hanging around the guy named Tristan.
When Sam stepped outside she was surprised to see it was already dark. A wide puddle of light poured from above the door, but the rest of the parking lot was blacker than pitch. She quickly went to the truck and grabbed her sweatshirt. It was colder in the mountains than it was in the city or suburbs.
She shut the truck door and paused to slip the hooded sweater over her head.
The clap of the bar door slamming followed by fast moving, heavy footsteps had Sam shoving her head through the neckline and looking to see who was coming.
Through the cars parked in the lot she could only make out the torso of someone tall. The door slammed again and this time Sam saw Tristan come out. She was about to head back to the bar, but froze when she heard the tone of Tristan’s voice.
“Luke. Luke, stop damn it!”
Luke stopped, faced Tristan, and placed his hands on his hips. “What?”
“Don’t leave. I’m sorry.” The other man approached Luke.
Sam remained hidden in the shadows, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever argument they were having. Although she could not see their faces anymore she saw some of the tension leave Luke’s posture.
“I’m not gonna stand there while you’re flirting with my sister. It’s misleading and you know it. You wanna play mind games with some girl, pick someone other than Sheilagh.”
“I was just having fun with her. I wasn’t leading her on.”
“You were, and you damn well know it. If you like her, fine, that’s a whole other argument we can have. But you and I both know she’s not your type.”
Tristan stepped closer. In a hushed voice he said, “No, she’s not my type.”
“Then don’t lead her on. She’s my sister. She doesn’t deserve to get her feelings hurt. She’s young.”
“I’ll be more careful. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”
Sam’s eyes were getting tired from straining in the dark. There was a sound of something rustling in the woods behind her and she wanted to get back inside. She heard gravel crunch and looked back to Luke and Tristan. What she saw took her completely by surprise.
Tristan’s hand gripped the back of Luke’s neck while Luke’s hands wrapped in Tristan’s hair. They were kissing aggressively. They were kissing with urgency.
Sam covered her mouth in shock. She wondered if the others knew that Luke was gay.
If they did they didn’t necessarily know he was involved with Tristan. If that were the case surely Sheilagh would have resigned her feelings long ago. On the other hand, maybe there was nothing here except for—
“Love you.”
The whispered statement took away any notions that this was a one-time thing she was witnessing. They were in love. Their rugged breathing echoed through the empty lot and she noticed they were still standing very close.
“Come on. Let’s head back in. You go first. I’ll follow in a few.”
So they were still in the closet with the others. Luke walked back into the bar and a few minutes later Tristan followed.
There was still some crunching going on in the woods so Sam didn’t waste any more time following the two lovers. She just hoped they didn’t realize she’d been watching their interlude.
* * *
Colin noticed Sam return to her seat at the bar and decided to join her. He slid onto the stool beside her and asked Kelly to get him a Coke. When she turned she expelled a breath of surprise. He mentally frowned that she was still uncomfortable around him.
Perhaps it wasn’t that they walked in on each other. Perhaps it was the priest thing. Some people weren’t always sure how to act in front of him. Knowing a priest outside of church was sometimes like seeing a teacher at the grocery store. It just seemed wrong to admit they were normal human beings like everyone else.
“You know, I’m not going to throw holy water on you and give you penance if you say the wrong thing.”
She blushed. The sun had given her cheeks some extra freckles today.
“I’m still just a regular guy.”
“Sorry. I guess I just don’t know how to be around a holy person in a bar.”
He chuckled. “That does sound like a bit of an oxymoron. Thankfully I’m no more holy than anyone else under this roof.”
She raised her eyebrows. They were the softest brown he’d ever seen.
“Are you not taking vows to become a priest in a few months? Or is that just what you’ve been telling the others while you lived the high life off the mountain.”
He appreciated her wit. “I’m taking my holy orders on August first, but they aren’t vows, just a promise to a bishop to dedicate my life to God’s work. Well, that and to be celibate. I’ll still be Colin McCullough.”
“Can you perform sacraments?”
“Nope. Can’t even say Mass yet.”
“But you’ll be able to soon.”
“Yes.”
&nbs
p; “When you’re away at seminary do you dress different?”
“Not really. I usually wear a black dress shirt and pants. No collars or robes yet.”
“What made you want to be a priest?”
She relaxed slightly and he was grateful for that. She was still only seeing him as a soon to be priest, but perhaps after he answered all her questions she’d understand he had more than religious interests in life.
“Let’s start with this. I’m twenty-nine. I go to church every day. When I was twelve I began considering priesthood. In the Old Testament there’s a line that reads “there is a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones; I grow weary of holding it in.” The day I read that was the day I told my parents I was considering joining the church. I met with a local priest and was told that this calling was referred to as Internal Discernment, but I’d have to wait it out to see if it faded.
“I left for college as soon as I graduated high school. I earned my bachelor’s degree, took an extra year of theology, and minored in philosophy. What’s your major?”
She seemed vaguely taken off guard by his sudden outpouring of personal information, but had no issue keeping up with the conversation. “I’m going to be a secondary English teacher.”
“I can see that. What made you choose teaching?”
“My mother was a teacher.”
“And she’s not now?”
“No. She and my father own a bed and breakfast outside of Lambertville, New Jersey. She stopped teaching when I was fourteen, but they only opened the B&B a year ago after my dad recovered from a massive heart attack.”
“I’m sorry. I hope he’s doing well now.”
“He is. They’re very happy with their new business. It was a good thing for them to sell our old home and buy new. It gave them a fresh start that was long overdue.”
“Why long overdue?”
“Did you join seminary right after college?”
Her abrupt dodge of his question didn’t alarm him. She just wasn’t ready to share certain details of her family life with him, and he could respect that.
“While I was in college I joined something called an affiliation program. It’s a group of perspective candidates that can offer support, share discussions, and pray together. That’s where I met Father Tucker, my good friend and longtime advisor. After I graduated I spent some time abroad. When do you graduate?”
“I should’ve finished a year ago, but I took some time off when my father got sick. When I returned the course requirements changed and I got saddled with some extra credit requirements. Graduation was last week. I didn’t participate because I’m short two classes. Luckily I can take them this summer and will have my degree by fall.”
“Will there be a graduation ceremony at the end of summer?”
“Yes, but it’ll be nothing like the spring ceremony. There’re only a handful of us graduating late. I’m not sure if I’ll even attend it.”
“Why not?”
She sighed. “It’ll be close to the new school year. If I land a job I’ll already be rushing to get things ready for my classroom. It just seems like a lot of unnecessary frills. I mean, I get my diploma. I’ve already passed the state certification tests. My transcripts and resume have already been mailed. I don’t see the point.”
“What about to celebrate the conclusion of this chapter in your life?”
She raised her glass and smiled. “All I need for that is some friends and a good bottle of booze.”
He saw the moment her words registered with her brain. He definitely had her relaxing, but soon as she remembered who he was her tension returned.
“God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Call me Colin and, please, it’s quite all right. Sometimes a good bottle of booze is just what’s needed in life, Sammy.”
She looked like she wanted to smile as she eyed him skeptically.
“Do you drink? Sheilagh said you didn’t.”
“Perhaps she said I wouldn’t, but she surely didn’t say I didn’t. I’m as much a McCullough as the rest of them. The only reason I’m not drinking tonight is because I was asked to be a designated driver. I mean, look at these guys. They’re as full as the last bus home.”
The lyrical song of her soft laughter caused something inside of him to churn and tighten.
“Where do you guys come up with these sayings?”
“Have you met my grandmother yet?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, you’d remember if you had. She’s right off the boat and I swear she’s the one who taught sailors to swear.”
“Well, I look forward to meeting her. Now tell me, where did you spend your time abroad?”
“Ireland of course! I worked with a Catholic Mission out of Dublin doing social outreach stuff like working with the homeless and mentoring youths. I do a lot of mentoring around here as well. You know, Center County could use some fresh, bright teachers. Perhaps you should send our high school your resume. You seem to be enjoying yourself here.”
“I love it here. I never knew places like this still existed in this country. Today we saw a cub catch a fish out of a stream!”
“Did Braydon take you to the falls then?”
“There were small falls. I’m not sure if it was the falls.”
He wondered if Braydon would mind him showing her the falls.
“You’d know if you saw them. They’re stunning. You can jump right off of the mountain ledge into a depthless part of the stream.”
Her face suddenly paled.
“What is it, Sammy?”
“I…I don’t swim.”
“Don’t or can’t?”
“Both. I mean I used to, but I haven’t in over a decade so I guess I can’t anymore. How long were you in Ireland?”
Again with the rapid change of topic—Samantha Dougherty sure liked to keep her secrets to herself. The mention of water seemed to terrify her and he was trying to help her enjoy the evening, so he let it go.
“A little over a year. I put in for my candidacy before I left. Mail didn’t always get to us promptly in Dublin. Once I received the news I’d been accepted at Saint Peter’s I began to wrap up things in Ireland and prepare to return to the States.
“I started seminary when I was twenty-five and earned my graduate degree in social work. I came home in February for my transitional diaconate. I’m expected to take at least six months to a year to make my final decision. I decided when I was a boy so when my six months are up on August 1st I’ll be taking my orders. What’s your favorite novel? Mine’s The Catcher and the Rye.”
“Wow, I guess your mind really is made up. Um, I’d have to say J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.”
“Really? Peter Pan. Well that’s one you don’t hear too often. Why?”
“Why not? It’s brilliant.”
He frowned. “Isn’t it a children’s book? I guess I assumed an English teacher would—”
“Have more sophisticated tastes?” she offered. “Well, I assumed a soon to be priest wouldn’t drink or praise a novel written about teenage lunacy and prostitution.”
“Touché.”
“Besides, I assure you, Peter Pan is more than a children’s novel. It’s perhaps one of the most honest depictions of human relationships I’ve ever read.”
“How so?”
“Well, take Peter. He’s an amalgam of every man I’ve ever met. He wants a mother, yet doesn’t want to answer to one. He wants a wife, but also wants her to mother him. He’s so in love with himself and his need to have fun, he sometimes loses track of years while having it. It’s a constant cognitive battle, the lure of adulthood and the freedom of youth. And then there are the women in his life, each one clawing for a piece of him, yet none of them really understanding a bit of what’s beneath the surface. And in the end, because he’s too preoccupied with irrelevant titles and meaningless achievements, he’ll let it all slip away, because he’s afraid of what matters most, letting him
self truly love. If ever someone truly understood the male psyche, the part that never grows up, it was J.M. Barrie.”
Colin was floored. Samantha would obviously be a phenomenal teacher. He could easily see her taking a group of adolescents and showing them how to love literature. Rather than lie and claim a stuffy classic was her favorite, she admitted to loving a children’s novel yet found such depth in the tale where a child would most likely read an adventure without realizing the moral.
As she spoke her eyes lit up. She seemed to find a spark of passion in everything. He swallowed and asked what he knew he shouldn’t.
“Are you Wendy?”
She blinked and crinkled her brow. “Excuse me?”
“Are you Wendy? Are you in love with him? The boy who loves himself enough to let life pass by without ever truly risking his own heart. Are you willing to settle for superficial perfection just to pretend at happiness, knowing it may never have depth or be real?”
Her smile faltered. Her lashes fell over her eyes and her fingers toyed with a napkin on the bar. A puff of humorless laughter passed her lips. “You’re talking about Braydon.”
“I am.”
She turned and looked over her shoulder at the man in question. Braydon was sitting at a table with the others. Jennifer Miller was hanging on his side as they all laughed over something Finn said.
“I suppose I am Wendy in a way. My Pan’s certainly overlooked me for an evening of fun and adventure. I suppose that makes her Tinkerbelle.”
She turned and faced Colin. “The difference is, Colin, I don’t give my heart easily to anyone. I’m not a naive little girl flying off to a fantasy. I know what’s between Braydon and me, and it isn’t love. I see him for exactly who he is. He’s my friend, but little more. I won’t give my heart to a man that’ll never give his back.”
Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories Page 20