Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved

by Laveen, Tiana

  ~***~

  One week later...

  “I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Dane sprinkled the head of the infant baby girl, her ruby cheeks bathed in streams of colorful light filtering through the stained glass. The droplets fell away from her head, his fingertips moist from the Holy Water, while her parents grinned from ear to ear as they turned toward the congregation, chock full of pride. Their extended family began to gather and he stood and watched. For now at the least the third time in his priesthood, he burned with resentment. Once again, his heart ached with jealousy. He was nursing a new secret, the one that involved the woman that he was madly in love with—the one that he’d just spoken to an hour prior—and now he stood here, in his robe and a forced smile, looking at something he could never have in his position.

  And, he was faced with the question—“But why?”

  What he was taught had made perfect sense to him at one point. He listened to the men he looked up to explain to him that he couldn’t have two masters; you can never be married to two at once. You have to serve with all of your heart, free from distraction.

  You can’t serve the church as a priest, Son, and have a family. You’d be torn in two directions...

  You can’t have sex, because fornication is a sin, and since you can’t get married, it in fact would be fornication. And you can’t get married, because you already have a wife...

  And so the vicious cycle of reason continued. Dane drowned in a sea of thoughts and reflections, combing through all of the things that upset him. Old wounds became fresh, raw and sensitive. He thought about so many things related to his life, his relationship, his family and the Church. He thought about the sex abuse scandals that had hit like a storm, a scarlet letter on the Church, which was now under scrutiny—even the innocent appeared guilty. All of the secrets, lies and deception...

  At the time, he was outraged, not just with the Church, but with the judgments from non-Catholics that looked at him with suspicion, as if he, too, were in some way a sexual deviant simply because he was a priest. It became tiresome...the questions:

  “Did you know that priest that did that? He spoke at your parish before...”

  “My friend’s brother was one of the victims of Fr. so and so, what are you all going to do about it?”

  And so on, and so forth. So many things had gone wrong; the real issues weren’t being touched upon, only the symptoms. The Church was treating the illness with pseudo-prescription medicines, instead of spiritual lifestyle changes. No, you can’t turn a person into a pedophile—either it is in them to do such a deviant deed, or it is not, but the entire culture that he was knee deep in caused him to have complete awareness of his religious surroundings. How could something be so beautiful and so vile, all at once?

  Over the last few days, Dane studied his Bible, the same Bible he had practically memorized, knowing his search would be fruitless. But he had to. He was trying to find something, anything, that would explain to him why God would not want him to have a relationship and marry. He read the passages with a discerning eye, with new logic, and was hit with the deep desire to dismiss them. He loved being a priest and he knew he was good at it. He believed he could do both, but how? They’d never allow it. The Church would wash their hands of him if he didn’t break it off with Rhapsody, at once. Probably transfer him to some other parish, far, far away—or worse, in a foreign country to help with one of their missions. Some place, far from Rhapsody.

  The very thought terrified him.

  Every now and again, he’d hear about one of his own leaving the priesthood because he’d fallen in love...and he honestly never understood it. He didn’t believe it would happen to him, just as Fr. Kirkpatrick had warned: “They always think it will be someone else.”

  But he should have known. All the signs were there. It just took someone special, a woman that his heart couldn’t deny, to bring it forward and make him take note, for once and for all. For a time being, he’d fooled himself into believing he could barrel through it, that he was simply being tested. So he played with the hand he was dealt, not willing to believe that those cards were really for him. They were for him, alright, and the worse part of it, the part that stung the most, was that he asked to play the game.

  Then, Josh died, and his world crumbled. That was the final straw, when he torpedoed into depression. He wanted to self-medicate, and he did, though he fought it along the way. As he’d slid that drink out of his pocket on that park bench, uncaring, he finally took a good look at himself...and he hated what he saw. He’d been grasping at straws, trying to make it right, cure himself of the afflictions... Then he saw her...

  Yes, new company would help. A fresh face...someone that doesn’t know me...

  But she did know him, at least in a sense, and instead of running, or being unnerved, he found it somehow refreshing and comforting. He’d even reported himself to the parish, letting them know he was having trouble coping for being in denial wouldn’t give him any semblance of peace. They understood, allowing him to go to his AA meetings whenever he needed, to get himself together again...but he didn’t need AA anymore. The drinking actually wasn’t the problem, and frankly, Dane didn’t even care for the strong taste of it. Regardless, it would keep coming back into his life until he dealt with the root cause, the reason it had been there all along—and now, he was ready. This was his rock bottom.

  It began with being forced to be the gatekeeper for domestic secrets, always the family protector—help your father with this, help your mother with that. Daisy and her wayward husband needing his help once again. It wasn’t the first or tenth financial handout, he’d been giving them money out of his meager earnings, unbeknownst to his mother. But now, he’d had to put his foot down. Joseph also had a drinking problem, only his wasn’t being addressed and was neatly pushed under the rug so that everything in the Caruso home remained nice and tidy. Finally, Anthony was unreliable—the forever ‘kid’ who needed his brothers to be his father, too, while he ran wild. And now...now! It all ended with the realization, that Dane was all alone in the world and though the Lord was his brother, and God his true Father, he wanted his own Eve...and her new name was Rhapsody...

  And he wanted her now...

  ~***~

  Dane tensed. Although he tried to tamp down his irritation and rage, he wasn’t successful. Standing in a black tank top, dirt stained loose jeans and tan work boots, he looked exactly how he felt—a hot mess, ready to tear the Earth apart. His father sat on the stoop, staring into space.

  “So, you helped your mother plant the mums,” the older man said, ignoring what had come out of his son’s mouth.

  “Did you hear me, Dad? I’m leaving the priesthood.”

  “You did a good job on the flowers...”

  “Listen to me, damn it!” Dane threw down the soil covered garden hoe and rake, then the grubby gloves as his voice shook the air around them. His father looked at him in alarm, as if he were shrinking right into a crack on the concrete step he sat on—away from his son, away from the world. The man recoiled, as if he couldn’t stomach Dane’s words.

  Exhausted, Dane was running on empty, sick of everyone not being able to handle their problems like adults, all for the sake of appearances, and not caring about the toll it had taken on the family unit. He wasn’t born an ostrich, but was encouraged to follow their lead. Head in the sand, to keep the peace, follow along. For years, it had torn him up, destroyed him from the inside out, and he was going to deal with it once and for all. He’d called his mother, asking to speak to her just an hour previously. She cheerfully invited him over, and when he pulled up to the house, she was digging into the soil, unearthing daddy long legs, dandelions and denial.

  He bent down and helped her, sliding on his father’s garden gloves that lay over the side of her favorite yellow work pail. Meanwhile, he listened to her rattle on about the weather and how Daisy had bought the most adorable dress for her daughter. A
t that point, he’d had it. She knew he needed to speak to her about something important, he’d said so, and he saw the realization on her face when she looked up at him, partially blinded by the sun as she put her hand over her eyes. He could sense the panic just below the surface, sense that she didn’t want to face this—and she’d fight him if he brought truth to her feet.

  He didn’t give an introduction, no prologue, just blurted it out. Then, he watched her continue to smile as she straightened and disappeared into the house. He contemplated rushing after her, but instead, waited there to see if she was going to, for once in her life, face the world. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t. The house swallowed her whole, and spit out someone else. Instead, his father came out to her rescue, her fixer-upper—the man that helped keep things keenly dysfunctional.

  “You can’t be serious, Dane,” he simply said, the judgment in his voice thick like phlegm. “Do you understand how horribly you will affect others?”

  The gall.

  “I am very serious. I need to talk to you both, so I’m glad you’re out here.”

  “I refuse to discuss this with you.” His father waved him off. “You are clearly under a lot of stress. Take some time to think about this, Son. Go on vacation, get some air.”

  “You think this is some whim or crazy notion that I just concocted this morning? You think I just woke up today and after service thought, ‘Wow! Today is a good day to throw my career away and let down the parishioners and make my family angry!’ You haven’t even heard why, don’t you care what the reason is?”

  And with that, his father said nothing further. He changed the topic, turned into an ostrich, leaving Dane reeling, grinding his teeth in frustration. He hadn’t even noticed he’d balled his fist until his fingernails cut painfully into his palm, giving a warning signal.

  Dane began to storm off, then stopped in his tracks and marched back to his father, up the porch steps.

  Shoving his finger in his face, he spoke low, between clenched teeth, “Let me tell you something, Dad. I am sick and tired of living for everyone else around here! It’s done and over with. I’m finished being Dane, the great gatekeeper! No one gives a damn about my well-being, only what I can do for them. It’s a wrap. I had to be the man you never were!”

  Finally, his father had the guts to look up at him, anger on his face. Still, he didn’t say a word, more than likely surprised at his son’s raised voice and angry demeanor.

  Dane counted off his fingers: “When you lost your job, you left us at home for months on end. I had to go out and get a job to help support the family. Then you came back home like nothing happened, like what you did was alright! You ran! I had to make up a lie to my coach and teachers as to why I was falling asleep in class and coming in late, and almost passed out in practice. I wasn’t getting enough sleep due to working at that hell hole of a restaurant and I was stressed out. You were the head of this household! When in the hell are you going to act like it?!”

  His father shot up from his seated position, the older man’s lip quivered with rage. “Don’t you ever speak to me that way! I am still your father!”

  “Yes you are, and what a shame that is!” Once the words left his mouth, the older Caruso stiffened in shock for he surely knew, once and for all, the chickens had come home to roost.

  “I was out, trying to find work! No one told you to go and get a job. You did that, Dane...and I told you ‘thank you’ but you—”

  Dane shoved his finger into the man’s chest, shocked at his own reaction as he burned with fury. “On what days, Dad? When, out of all those days gone, were you looking for work? Was it before or after you left that woman’s motel room, hmmm?”

  He watched the color drain from his father’s face.

  “I know all about Ms. Kathleen Mitchell, Dad.” Dane seethed, feeling as if he may accidentally bite his tongue in two as the feelings from yesteryear resurfaced. “You had an affair! Went out into the world, feeling sorry for yourself, and ran off with your mistress!”

  “Keep your voice down!” His father looked back at the house, a mixture of shock and sorrow on his weathered face.

  “I never told Mom, and have no intentions of doing it, so don’t worry, you can keep playing games here...keep playing pretend in the dollhouse.” He pointed to the house. “You and everyone else can keep painting pictures that don’t exist. I am done being your stuntman! Taking the heat and the bumps and bruises while the rest of you live on easy street.” His father stumbled backwards, almost as if he were about to fall. “Mom has always been so worried about your opinion of her, and she had no idea it was her opinion of you that would be challenged!”

  Caruso, Sr. got his balance and simply stared at him. No words came out of his mouth for he finally had to face the fact that since Dane was sixteen years of age, he’d known about an affair that he thought, for sure, no one was the wiser to.

  Dane had set out looking for his missing father when he had to deal with night after night of their mother worrying, yet trying to keep a brave face. She insisted the man had been looking for work, when Dane and Joseph knew full well she hadn’t a clue as to where he really was. The bills were piling up; he had to do what he had to do, so he and Joseph got jobs—pizza deliveries after school and part time fast food joints. In that time, he’d looked everywhere for his father, week after week, month after month, until finally, he’d gotten word he was living only thirty minutes away, in a run-down motel. He staked out the place and saw the man coming and going...with a woman on his arm. Then he’d gone back home and never spoke of the instance. Two weeks later, his father returned, smiling and telling everyone he’d found a new job. Business as usual.

  Finally, his father found his tongue. His eyes glistening, he put his hand on Dane’s shoulder and whispered, “Can we talk about this, alone, please?!” He looked over his shoulder again, ensuring no one was around. Dane began to walk to his brand new car, a snow white Toyota Rav4, his father hot on his trail. Both men got inside. Closing their respective doors, neither dared to look at the other. The confines were filled with the scent of new leather that did nothing to soften the mood. Dane gripped the steering wheel and thumped it impatiently with his fingers.

  “Dane,” his father said softly, turning to him. “I really did go out to look for work. I told your mother that and then...well, I made a mistake. I was so down in the dumps, I just felt like a failure.” His voice quivered.

  “Where’d you meet her at?” Dane asked; ice cold steel in his voice as he kept his gaze straight ahead.

  “Does any of that matter now?”

  “Yes. Where’d you meet her?” he repeated.

  “I met her at a bar. She...she had a room, so,” he shrugged, “that’s how it started. I told her what happened and she was a listening ear. I felt so ashamed afterward, Dane. You have to believe me. I never cheated on your mother before or after.”

  Dane exhaled loudly and then returned his father’s gaze, feeling nothing but disgust and sadness. He knew the man was probably on the up and up, now that he was on the hot seat, but it didn’t shake Dane’s disappointment in him.

  “It all makes sense now.” His father looked away and rubbed his forehead. “You were acting so strange after I returned. Everyone else was happy, but after that...” He shook his head. “It seemed it took forever for you to trust me again. I’m sorry, Dane.”

  A trembling hand touched Dane’s arm.

  “Dad, I’m sure you are sorry, I believe that...but, you just caused us so much unnecessary pain.” A few moments passed. “I came over here to talk to you and Mom about what is going on with me, my pending preparation to leave the priesthood, and what do I get in return?” He glared at his father. “I get Mom running into the house, yelling and screaming to you that I’ve lost my mind. I heard her tell you I’d shame the family, and you running out acting as if I’ve threatened her life. It’s always about everyone else. When is anyone going to wonder about my life and what I need?!”


  His father swallowed and pulled his hand away.

  “Dane...I just...want you to be happy. I thought you were happy being a priest.”

  “I am.”

  “But...that doesn’t make sense. Why would you want to leave then?”

  Dane took a deep breath and let his head fall back on the seat. He looked up at the ceiling of the car and pondered just how to phrase the words, to make it all make sense.

  “Was it Josh? You really haven’t been your typical self since his passing. Son, grief is hard, but I promise you that—”

  “No, it’s not Josh.” He looked at his father earnestly. “Dad, I’ve fallen in love...”

  ~***~

  Rhapsody crossed and uncrossed her legs as she sat on Dane’s favorite park bench. But Dane was nowhere in sight. She began to worry as the clouds drifted in a dark gray backdrop, the sure sign of a storm brewing. He hadn’t returned her phone call that she’d made to his cellphone during that hour; it had gone straight to voice mail. They’d agreed to meet there and then grab a bite to eat. He had been acting a bit strange the past few days.

  This isn’t like him...

  She looked out at the water and watched the Indian summer breeze blowing it into rippled waves. Peaceful. Beautiful. Sublime. Leaning forward, she let herself drown in her own thoughts.

  Maybe this is a sign?

  She shook her head. After a while, she stood from the bench and made her way to her parked car, resolved to go to lunch by herself. She turned on her mp3 player and moved her thumb over the buttons. Hitting the shuffle function, she pulled out of her spot, past the trees on the winding park road. She smiled when Maze with Frankie Beverly’s song, ‘When You Love Someone’, blared out. She swayed to the soothing ’80s R&B song. The lyrics spoke to her, about their special situation, and it seemed right on time. Chancing a look at her phone, she noted she hadn’t missed any calls and sighed.