“Next question—what is your proudest accomplishment from your time as a fill-in-the-blank? Oh, I’m supposed to write ‘priest’ in that blank.”
“Interesting question,” Søren said. “I haven’t given it much thought as excessive pride is actively discouraged by the Bible.”
“Not that’s ever stopped you before,” Nora muttered behind her forkful of watermelon. The girls on the blankets all giggled.
“I heard that,” Søren said.
“What about when you started the Spanish-language Mass?” Diane asked. “Sacred Heart nearly doubled in size because of that. And the food got better at the picnics.” Diane had a plateful of Mexican food on her lap. Nora hadn’t seen that table. It looked much better than her fried fish.
“Yeah, and we don’t have to drive all the way to Westport for Mass,” Josefina said.
“I think you should say the soccer team,” Maxine said. “But I’m biased. But we’re awesome. But I’m biased. But we are awesome.”
“How about when you saved Michael’s life?” Angie asked. Nora looked at the girl for the first time. She was a mousey thing, but pretty in a bookish way. The girl blushed and Nora wondered if the girl had a crush on Michael. She couldn’t blame the girl if she did.
“Anyone would have done that,” Søren said.
“How about me?” Nora asked. “You kept me out of jail.”
“He did?” Maxine asked, wide-eyed.
“Another long story,” Nora said.
“Tisha, write that my proudest accomplishment as a priest was performing your mother’s wedding which was one of the happier days of my life,” he said. Nora shot him the quickest of glances. She remembered Diane’s weddings. Specifically she recalled cleaning the fellowship hall up after the reception and waltzing with Søren. They’d almost kissed that night for the first time. They were so close when a certain French pervert of their acquaintance had shown up and made a very sexy nuisance of himself. Oh yes, it was one of the happier days of Nora’s life too.
“Next question?” Søren asked.
“Um…What is the biggest challenge of being a priest?” Tisha asked.
“I bet I can guess,” Katie said under her breath.
“That’s only the second biggest challenge,” Søren said, glancing her way. Katie snorted and Nora had to laugh. Poor Tisha looked adorably bewildered.
“What?” she said.
“You can put this answer down,” Søren said, giving Tisha his full attention. “Not having enough time to spend with the people I love—my friends and family.”
“And what is the biggest joy of being a priest?” Tisha asked.
“Spending time with the other people I love, my church.”
“Aww…” the girls said in unison.
“You’re so sweet, Father S,” Maxine said.
Nora coughed. The cough quickly turned into choking. Her eyes watered and Diane had to slap her once on the back.
“Eleanor?” Søren said.
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat, took a sip of her beer, and patted her chest. “Choked on a little bite of irony there.”
“What?” Maxine asked. “What’s ironic?”
“You calling him sweet,” Nora said. “Of all the words in the English language—and there are over a million of them—‘sweet’ might be the last word I’d use to describe Father Stearns.”
“Why not?” Angie asked.
“Yes, Eleanor, tell us all—why not?” Søren raised his chin just slightly and gave her a look that warned her the very fate of the world might hinge upon her answer.
Nora looked at him, at the girls, back at him, back at the girls.
“They don’t know, do they?” Nora asked.
“Know what?” Søren said.
“That you’re evil.”
“I was hoping to keep that from them,” Søren said.
“Evil?” Maxine repeated. “Really?”
“You might as well tell them,” Søren said, raising his beer to his lips. “I’ll be over here drowning my sorrows.”
“Here’s the thing, girls,” Nora said. “Your priest and I have history.”
“You said he kept you out of jail?” Maxine said. “That doesn’t sound evil.”
“He did, but there was a string attached,” Nora continued. “And it’s still attached. It’s safe to say I will be in the doghouse with that man for the rest of my life.”
“What happened?” Maxine asked. “What did you do?”
“You’re being overdramatic, Eleanor,” Søren said.
“Am I?” she asked. “Let’s let the next generation here decide. So. Girls.” She met the eyes of the teenage girls arrayed around them. They all wore rapt looks. “When I was fifteen I sort of kind of accidentally on purpose stole five cars. I don’t recommend doing that. It’s a miracle I didn’t spend five to ten in juvie. The judge gave me probation supervised by that guy over there. And you better believe he made me suffer for my sins.”
“What did he do?” Katie asked.
“Quite frankly,” Nora said, “he was an asshole.”
“No way,” Maxine said. “Father S?”
Nora pointed her beer at Søren. “Remember when you made me clean the pews with that disgusting wood soap and you jacked the heat up in the sanctuary to ninety?”
“I merely wanted you to know what Hell was like so you would avoid behaviors that would send you there in the future,” he said.
“Father S, that is evil,” Maxine said. “I’m ashamed of you. She could have had heat stroke.”
“Mea culpa,” Søren said without one iota of contrition in his tone or his expression.
“What’s that mean?” Josefina asked.
“It’s Latin for ‘my bad,’” Nora said. “Also, he made me water a stick. A dead stick. But I had to water it. Every single day for six months.”
“Watering a dead stick? What the hell?” Katie said. “That’s crazy.”
“It’s an old trick many convents once employed. It teaches the postulants discipline and obedience, which Eleanor was sorely lacking,” Søren said. “Watering a stick is hardly the Spanish Inquisition.
“Then there was the dog whistling thing,” Nora said.
“What was the dog whistling thing?” Maxine asked.
“Oh, I had done something, I don’t remember what,” Nora said with a sigh. “But whatever it was, it pissed him off so much he told me he wasn’t going to treat me like a human being until I learned how to act like a human being. So for about a month after that, he wouldn’t say my name when he wanted my attention. He’d whistle the way you’d whistle to get your dog to come to heel. That incredibly loud awful obnoxious two-fingered whistle?”
“Like this?” Søren whistled and Nora flinched. She heard an actual dog start barking somewhere in the distance. Every dog in the tristate area had probably heard that whistle.
“Like that,” she said, cringing and shuddering. “And now I’m having flashbacks. I heard that sound in my sleep. For years.”
“That is a pretty horrible sound,” Maxine said, making a disgusted face as she rubbed her ear. “Wow, you’re the worst, Father. No offense.”
“None taken,” he said. “In my defense, however, Eleanor was a horribly behaved teenager. Do you remember that young man you nearly put in the hospital?”
“Which one?” Nora asked.
Søren looked at Maxine. “My point proven. She was a savage then. Still is one.”
“You were no saint either,” she said. “Remember that night when you and Kingsley got so drunk you ended up on the roof of the rectory.”
“No,” he said. “But only because I was too drunk to remember it.”
“You know Kingsley?” Maxine’s brown eyes went very very wide.
“I know Kingsley,” Nora said.
“Of course she knows Kingsley,” Søren said and she saw the smile in his eyes. “She used to—” Here the pause was nearly imperceptible. But Nora perceived it. “Date him.”
>
The collective jaws of every teenage girl following the conversation hit the ground in unison.
“Oh. My. God.” Maxine breathed the words. “Tell me everything everything everything about him.”
“Are you his girlfriend?” Angie asked.
“Is he a good kisser?” Jessika asked.
“Why isn’t he here? Can you get him here?” Josefina asked. “He’s on the soccer team so he should be here.”
“Oh, look, Eleanor,” Søren said with an all-too-innocent smile. “It seems I’ve made you some new friends.”
“I need another drink for this conversation.” Nora stood up and started toward the deck. She’d only taken ten steps when she stopped in her tracks at the sound of a sudden earsplitting whistle. She spun around immediately and faced Søren.
“I did have you well-trained, didn’t I?” he asked. Everyone was laughing now.
“I have one thing to say to you, Father S. One.” She held up one finger. The teenagers looked very impressed with her. Apparently they’d never seen anyone flip their priest off before and live to tell the tale.
He held up his empty Heineken bottle. “One for me too,” he said.
“Yes, master,” she said, and curtsied. She turned around and went for the huge blue Igloo cooler on the deck where all the alcohol had been stored. She dug around the chest and found a Heineken for herself and a Trappist Achel 8° Blond for Søren. While digging through the ice she had the strangest sensation. She felt…good. Good-ish? That thing on her face? A smile. The knot in her stomach? Almost gone.
She returned to the circle of chair and picnic blankets, and offered Søren his beer. He looked at it, then at her.
“It’s not open,” he said.
“Do I have to do everything for you?” Nora asked.
“Yes.”
“See?” she said to the girls. “Evil. Pure evil.”
She fished her keychain out of her pocket, opened the bottle, and gave it to him. This time he took it.
“Happy now?” she asked.
“Ecstatic,” he said. “Now I believe Maxine has been patiently waiting for you to tell her what dating my brother-in-law was like. I think we’re all waiting to hear this.”
“Nope. Not a chance,” Nora said, walking back to her chair. “I am not going down that road. There are children present. And adults. And plants and animals. Air. Light. Inanimate objects. None of them need to hear this.”
“Girls,” Søren said, pointing at the assembled female teenagers. “You know what to do.”
All at once, the teenage girls stood up, grabbed Nora by the arms, dragged her from her chair and pulled her down the hill toward the pond.
“Are you going to throw me in?” Nora asked.
“If you don’t talk,” Maxine said. “Father S said you respond well to threats.”
“Just don’t throw my beer in, okay? Or my phone. It’s in my back pocket.”
“Or you could tell us about Kingsley,” the tallest girl said, the one she thought was named Katie. “That’s all we ask.”
“Fine. Fine! I give in. What do you want to know?” They’d made it to the dock and they all sat on the wooden boards.
“You really dated Kingsley?” Maxine asked. “Like, you know…really dated him.”
“Dating is a strong word,” Nora said. “It would be more accurate to say I survived Kingsley.” And considering she’d been his Domme for the past five years, it was even more accurate to say he’d survived her.
“Is he really French?” Katie asked.
“He’s really French,” she said. “Born in Paris. Father was French. Mother was American. Next?” That was an easy question.
“Does he French kiss?” Maxine asked.
“When you’re French, all kissing is French kissing,” Nora said. Another easy question.
“Why is he so pretty?” another girl asked. Mrs. Scalera’s granddaughter Angie.
“Now that is a question only God can answer,” Nora said. “Or Satan. Very possible Kingsley sold his soul to the devil to be that pretty.”
“He really is the hottest,” Maxine said with a wistful sigh. “He wore soccer shorts one game and his calves were like, oh my God, like steel.”
“His calves are to kill for,” Katie said. “I’d give up my college fund to rub them. You know, with my tongue.”
“It was the worst game I’d ever played.” Maxine didn’t seem to broken up about it. “I was goo. I can’t play when I’m goo.”
“King can make a girl gooey,” Nora said, wishing she had something stronger than beer to drink. Perhaps formaldehyde with an arsenic garnish.
“I love it when he and Father S get in fights in French. I have no idea what they’re saying. Doesn’t matter. Who needs porn when you have that?” Jessika asked, as she rolled onto her back and smiled up at the sky.
“I need porn,” Katie said. Nora had a feeling she and Katie would get along very well.
“Is Kingsley good in bed?” Maxine asked.
“Wait. Whoa. That’s a very adult question,” Nora said.
“I’m eighteen,” Katie said. “I’m an adult.”
“Are you all eighteen?” Nora asked.
“We can pretend we are,” Maxine said. “Come on. It’s not a big deal. We can either learn about sex by having it or by hearing about it. Which would you prefer?”
“I don’t care if you have sex or not. None of my business,” Nora said, raising her hands in surrender. “But I’d prefer to not get screamed at by your parents. Or get arrested. Again.”
Maxine turned around and yelled at a woman across the pond who was toweling off a girl of about seven or eight.
“Mom! Can I gossip about Kingsley with Miss Nora? She used to date him.”
“Only if you tell me what she said later,” her mother yelled back.
“Mom has a crush on him too,” Maxine said, sticking out her tongue in disgust. “She thinks he’s gorgeous.”
“So answer the question or you go in the drink,” Katie said, pointing her thumb at the pond.
“This is not an appropriate topic of conversation for a church picnic.” Nora rubbed her forehead. “And if I’m saying it’s not appropriate, you know it is not appropriate.”
“How about this?” Angie asked. “How about you just tell us, like…what chapter in one of your books we should re-read to know what Kingsley is like, you know, after dark?”
“Re-read?” Nora asked. “Does that mean you’ve already read my books?”
The girls had the decency to at least look the tiniest bit guilty.
“Well,” Maxine said. “Kind of. All of us. We sort of have an unofficial book club going.”
“Excuse me,” Nora said, trying to stand up. “I’m going to go call Child Protective Services on myself.”
“Come on, Nora,” Maxine said, yanking Nora back down to the dock. “Or Ellie. Or Eleanor. Or whoever you are. Just one chapter. One scene. Tell us. We won’t bother you anymore after that.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Nora said.
“Me too,” Katie agreed. “How about The Red? I just read that book. Was it like, you know…the first chapter when Mona and Malcolm did it? Or was it more like the slave auction chapter? Or maybe the minotaur chapter?”
“The one with the nymphs was my favorite,” Maxine said.
“Oh yeah, that was fun,” Katie said. “I want to be a nymph.”
“You’re already a nympho,” Maxine said.
“Kill me, God,” Nora said looking up at the sky. “One bolt of lightning, right here.” She pointed at her chest.
“Nora,” Maxine said. “Just pick a chapter already.”
“Fine, fine. The riding crop chapter in The Red.”
Maxine and Katie squealed. It was nearly as earsplitting a sound as Søren dog-whistling.
“Happy now?” Nora asked.
“Very, very happy,” Katie said and Maxine agreed. The other girls chimed in their agreement as well. “I love that cha
pter. The way he makes her love pain in just one night? That was so sexy.”
“Kink is only sexy when done between consenting adults,” Nora said. “So don’t do any kink until you’re at least eighteen. No, twenty-one. Thirty. Thirty’s a good age to start. And do your homework. And stay in school. And don’t do drugs. God, I’m a hypocrite. Someone find me my beer. Please.”
Maxine sighed wistfully. “I love Kingsley.”
“Me too,” Katie said. “He’s so sweet too. When he comes to the games? It’s like the best time ever. Remember that jerk on the United Methodist team?”
“You mean the one who got pissed over a ref call and he kicked the ball and it bounced off the goal post and hit my freaking face?” Maxine asked. “Yeah, I remember it. It was last week.”
“I thought Kingsley would rip that dude’s head off,” Katie continued. “That was the sexiest thing ever. I know when people say ‘Pardon my French’ they’re not actually going to swear in French but Kingsley really does swear in French. It’s amazing.”
“You all know he’s forty-five years old, right?” Nora asked. “And he’s currently in love with a woman who looks like the love child of Sade and Iman?”
“Juliette,” Maxine said. “She comes to our games sometimes. She’s awesome. She might even be awesome enough for him.”
“And that’s saying a lot,” Katie said.
“Here. Let me try something.” Nora reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She made a call and waited for an answer. Nora put the call onto speaker phone. It rang three times and then…
“I knew you missed me, mon canard.”
5
All the girls screamed. Literally screamed when Kingsley’s unmistakable voice crooned over the line and out of her phone speaker.
“Kingsley, before you say anything that could land you or me in jail, you should know you’re on speaker phone with your fan club,” Nora said. “Did you know you had a fan club?”
“Non,” he said. “But I’m not surprised.”
Maxine either pretended to faint or actually fainted. Nora couldn’t tell. She let her lay there. If she didn’t come to in a few minutes, then she’d start to worry.
Something Nice: An Original Sinners Novella Page 4