by Jay Quinn
Rob looked at him and nodded before standing and retrieving the coffeepot. Without a word, he reheated Sven’s coffee first, then his own before looking at Karl questioningly.
“No, thanks,” Karl said.
“I’ll take some of that,” Caroline said as she strolled into the kitchen.
“Sit down,” Rob said. “I’ll make you a mug. Cream and sugar?”
“Just black, please,” Caroline told him as she sank to her seat with a sigh. “Rob, your cosmos are talking back to me this morning.”
Rob chuckled as he poured coffee into a fresh mug. “Do you need some aspirin, an antacid, or anything?”
“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet,” Caroline said as she finger-combed her hair back from her face. “I think once I get some coffee in me, I’ll be up to speed.”
“I feel great this morning,” Rob told her as he handed her the mug of coffee and sat down. “You’re a lightweight,” he teased.
“How late did you guys stay up?” Karl asked with a look for each of them. “I was out like a light by ten.”
Sven chuckled and said, “It was about midnight when we all stumbled to bed. But you looked shell-shocked when you got here last night, Karl. Yesterday wasn’t exactly a restful holiday, was it?”
Karl gave him a level look and said, “It wasn’t all that bad, but I’m glad it’s not something I have to do every weekend.”
“Anyone care for a carton of yogurt?” Sven asked as he stood and made his way to the refrigerator, with Gretchen following him hopefully.
“If you have strawberry or banana, I’ll take one,” Caroline replied. “Now that I’ve had some coffee, I need something in my stomach.”
Sven tossed Gretchen a cookie from the bowl of dog treats before he shifted some items in the refrigerator and drew out two cartons of yogurt. He opened a drawer and took out two spoons before walking back to the table and handing Caroline a container and her spoon. He elected to eat his own while standing.
“What’s going on at church these days?” Rob asked Sven.
“It’s Lent,” Sven told him. “Other than that, nothing special.”
Karl sipped his coffee and thought about the season. The world changed as Lent progressed. Winter turned to spring while the church spent its forty days of fasting and abstinence. Those rituals were something he’d long left behind. In fact, he and his father had both had roast beef for lunch two days before, though Sven had served lobster bisque for dinner on Friday. He chuckled without realizing it.
“What’s so funny?” Caroline asked.
“I had roast beef on Friday,” Karl told her. “I didn’t even consider eating fish. I haven’t done any of that stuff for years. You must keep it up, Sven. That’s the reason for that nice lobster bisque on Friday night, right?”
“Of course,” Sven said with a shrug. “It has meaning to me. I make the conscious decision, but I don’t feel self-righteous about it, and I don’t fault you for eating meat on Friday. I just believe in the traditions. That’s all.”
“And I get used to plain cheese pizza on Friday nights,” Rob said and laughed.
“What church were you brought up m, Rob?” Caroline asked him with interest.
“When we went, we went to a Presbyterian church,” Rob told her. “But basically we went only at Christmas and Easter. My family’s not very religious. What about you?”
Caroline finished the last of her yogurt, then said, “Oh, I was brought up as a strict Methodist. No drinking, no dancing, blah, blah, blah. My parents were aghast when I married Karl in the Catholic Church, but they reconciled themselves to me agreeing to bring Melanie up as a Catholic. I think they came to the conclusion that it was better than nothing.”
“I take it you’re not very religious, either,’’ Rob said.
“Not in the sense of belonging to any church,’’ Caroline said. “I have my spiritual beliefs, but I can’t organize my life around any church’s schedule. I suppose it’s nice for those people who need that sort of thing.” She sniffed. “But I prefer making my own decisions about spiritual matters, and I don’t need them reinforced by belonging to any sort of club, and that’s really all church is,” she said dismissively. “I think Karl feels the same way.”
“We’re just very private people,” Karl told Rob. “If anyone asks, I tell them I’m Catholic, because that’s the belief system I was reared in. I still consider myself Catholic, but I don’t go to church anymore.”
Sven carefully scraped the inside of his yogurt container and licked the remains off his spoon before holding the cup down for Gretchen to lick clean. “And here I am, forty years old and still watching the clock to make sure it’s at least an hour between the time I eat and receive communion.” He petted the big dog’s head as he smiled at the little group around the table and turned to throw his container away in the trash under the sink.
“I can’t keep track of all those rules. I think they’re meaningless,” Karl said with a snort. “I’m surprised you trouble yourself with all that stuff anymore,” he told Sven.
Sven only smiled and said, “Melanie better step it up if she wants any coffee before we leave. We really do have to be on the road by seven-fifteen in order to get there on time.”
Karl started to say something else to Sven about the strictness of his exercise of faith but thought better of it. When he considered it, it was really none of his business. He’d made the concession to go to church for his mother’s benefit, and he decided to just leave it at that. Karl decided not to feel as if he’d abandoned his own principles. He instead decided he was just making his mother happy. And if that cost him a couple of hours on a beautiful Sunday morning, he’d just offer it up.
17
THE CHURCH PARKING LOT was full, though they had arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Sven managed to find a parking place at the far end of the lot. Karl let himself out of the back door of the Excursion and waited to offer his hand to Caroline as she slid across the seat and stepped down from the high vehicle. She looked up at him gratefully as she stepped onto the pavement and squeezed his hand with unspoken thanks. Karl smiled at her but held on to her hand as their little group assembled at the rear of the SUV and started toward the church.
Karl looked up at the church’s façade as they made their way across the parking lot. He had seen the building being built years ago, as his family had numbered among the first parishioners there. Thinking of all the Sunday mornings he’d come here throughout his adolescence and teen years, he stooped a bit and whispered to Caroline, “Do you feel guilty?”
“Of course not,” she replied as she sought his eyes. “Do you?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a smirk. “I think they put the guilt in with the asphalt.”
Caroline smiled at him but shook her head, knowing he was being facetious.
Frank and Annike were waiting for them near the front doors. Karl was expecting an elaborate greeting, but only Frank stepped forward with an extended hand for him and a hug for his daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Annike remained where she stood and waited with a look of shy confusion on her face. As Karl stooped to hug her, she gave him an odd look, almost as if she didn’t recognize him, though she returned his hug warmly.
“Rob. I didn’t expect you here this morning,” Frank said sullenly.
“It’s nice to see you,” Rob responded noncommittally. “Since this is a family event, I thought I should be here, too,” he added with a note of challenge.
“Mom?” Sven said from the side of the group where Annike lingered.
“Hello,” she replied automatically.
Frank didn’t rise to Rob’s bait; instead, he turned his back to him pointedly, stepped to Annike’s side, and put his arm around her waist. “Well, here we all are, Annike. One big happy family—aren’t you pleased?”
Annike’s eyes barely acknowledged him as she scoured the parking lot with a searching look. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she turned wor
riedly to Frank and said, “Wherever are the children?”
Karl heard her and felt his sense of internal buoyancy deflate.
“They’re with us,” Frank said carefully. “I think we need to be getting inside,” he said to his assembled family helplessly.
Annike looked uncomprehendingly at the circle of adults surrounding her, then turned again to look at Frank with uncertainty.
“Let’s go,” he said gently to her and steered her toward the front doors.
Karl looked at Sven, who returned his glance and shook his head sadly. As the group walked up the steps to the church’s entrance, Karl lingered to bring up the rear. He realized his mother had been waiting for her children, not her adult sons oddly paired and accompanied by an unexplained young woman.
Once inside the church, Karl reverted to habit. He accepted a bulletin from an elderly usher before he dipped his fingers in the holy water font and blessed himself; then he genuflected once his father had led them all to the familiar pew. However, once he’d taken his seat at the end of the pew, he did not kneel for prayer as his mother, father, and brother did. Instead, he sat stiffly next to Caroline and looked around the sanctuary.
The church members were in subdued dress for Lent. The altar projected from the rear wall into the sanctuary, which was arranged like an amphitheater around it on three sides. Their family’s pew was located in a wedge-shaped section to the right of the altar. From his vantage point, Karl had a direct view of a tableaux, set up where the choirmaster’s lectern usually stood, that held a life-sized crucifix surrounded by pots of dried grasses and cactus. Uncomfortable sitting face-to-face with the crucifix, Karl reached for a missalette from the rack on the back of the pew in front of him and found the readings for that Sunday. He handed it to Caroline so that she could follow along, and Caroline accepted the missalette with a nod, although it was unnecessary, as she knew from many years of bringing Melanie to church how to find the readings on her own and, indeed, when to stand, kneel, and sit.
To keep himself distracted from the crucifix in his direct line of vision, Karl looked out over the church as it filled up. He recognized a few faces, and marveled at how frail and elderly some of them had become. He also noticed the increase in black and brown faces in a church that had been predominantly Irish and Italian in his day. The Caribbean diaspora had reached this parish in Boca Raton. When he realized by the looks of strangers that he was staring, he opened the bulletin in his hand.
He read the usual greeting from the head pastor, a monsignor who had come to the church after Karl had left. He gave the general comments a quick read, then looked at a reprinted letter from the bishops of Virginia that outlined the church’s view on same-sex marriages and civil unions. It was restrained in its language, yet it left no room for interpretation. The bishops were strongly discouraging of secular support of such affairs and counseled the dioceses under their jurisdiction to remain firm in the church’s rejection of even civil unions for homosexuals. The letter was reprinted under the innocuous heading “Of Interest to Our Parishioners.” Disgusted, Karl folded the bulletin and placed it in the tray on the back of the pew in front of him.
At last, the procession of altar servers, the lectors, Eucharistic ministers, and the priest made their way up the center aisle, and Karl stood along with the congregation. There was no music at this early mass, so they all merely stood as the various mass servers took their places and the priest began mass.
For the next thirty minutes, Karl acted appropriately. He stood or knelt as was required by form and habit, but his mind was all over the place. His thoughts ran the gamut from resentment to rebellion to resentment again. He never really heard any of the readings, and during the priest’s homily, he silently debated with the tormented crucified Christ on the cross in front of him. He wondered at the distance of years and wrongs that separated the figure on that cross from the church he sat in. He angrily demanded answers to the difficult questions he had about his family’s struggles. His internal argument raged while mass continued on around him. The face on the crucifix never changed its serene expression of surrender and peace in the face of its fate. Karl stared at that effigy of Christ and waited for something, anything, to lessen his anger and resentment.
At last, the time came for his pew to file forward for communion. Karl felt his father’s eyes boring into him as he got off his knees and sat back down on the pew. Then he changed his mind and stood. He hadn’t planned on receiving communion, but he realized that if he sat, everyone in their pew would have to file awkwardly past his knees. At first, he intended to sit back down after his family filed past him, but he didn’t. Instead, he folded his hands and led the family to the Eucharistic minister. He made the small bow and extended his hands to receive the host before stepping aside and placing it on his tongue. He regarded the crucifix once more and crossed himself before returning to the pew and kneeling.
Karl was careful not to bite the host as it rested on his tongue, but waited for it to soften until he could swallow it whole. No longer able to confront the face of Christ in front of him, he simply bowed his head to wait for communion to be over. It was then that he felt a curious lightening in his chest. Where he had moments before felt a clenched fist behind his sternum, now he felt instead a spreading warmth that he recognized as something like peace. He fought against trying to define the sensation. He tried to empty his mind of everything but the sense of expansiveness and acceptance in his chest. Then his mind intruded with rationalization, and he was left clutching after that fleeting moment of faith. For an instant, he’d believed that everything was okay, and he’d felt himself let go of his carefully crafted sense of irony and rejection of the whole experience of church. For just that little while, he was simply, profoundly, at peace. And then it was gone.
Karl raised his head and looked around. Everyone watched as the altar servers replaced the bowls of unused hosts back in the tabernacle and the priest closed the door. At that, Karl joined with everyone else as they crossed themselves, got off their knees, and sat back down.
Within a few moments mass was over, and Karl stood, moved to the aisle, and genuflected once more before reaching for Caroline’s hand. She surprised him by looking directly at the crucifix before them and making a graceful approximation of his own genuflection before turning with him to lead the others, out of the sanctuary. Outside the church, his family formed a small circle. Annike stood close to Frank’s side as if overwhelmed by the others who seemed to tower over her diminutive form. She looked at them curiously but without any real recognition.
“Did you enjoy mass, Mom?” Karl asked her gently.
She smiled at him shyly, and said, “Yes.”
“Grandmere, are you looking forward to seeing us this afternoon?” Melanie asked softly.
Annike cocked her head and stared at Melanie before looking at Frank questioningly.
“I think we need to be getting back home,” Frank said stiffly. “Thank you for coming all the way down here. I was proud to have all of my family in church.”
“Dad, do you need us to follow you home? Will you be alright?” Sven asked anxiously.
“We’ll be fine,” Frank said without any rancor. Instead, he seemed remarkably resigned to the awkwardness of the situation. “I just need to get her back around familiar things. She’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be back about three,” Sven told him. “Do you have anything for lunch?”
“Sure. There are leftovers from last night,” Frank told him wearily. “You all take off and enjoy the beach. Hopefully, by the time you come back, your mom will be back to herself again.”
“See you soon, Annike,” Caroline said gently and waved.
“Good-bye,” Annike said, with the same shy smile she had given Karl.
“Come on, dear, let’s go home,” Frank urged his wife as he guided her with his arm around her waist.
Annike turned to walk away with him but glanced back at her family and waved politely, “G
ood-bye,” she said warmly.
They all stood in front of the church and watched as Frank got Annike to the car and helped her in. When he had her seated and belted inside, Frank closed her door and gave them a wave.
“She had absolutely no idea who we were,” Karl said as he waved back.
Caroline took his hand and said, “True, but she looked at us as if she thought we were rather nice people.”
“I imagine what I’d feel like if some girl my age came up to me and said ‘Hello, Grandmere,’ ” Caro said and shuddered. “I would think she was crazy. That’s how I felt anyway.”
“It’s okay, Mel.” Sven patted Melanie’s arm comfortingly as he pulled his keys from his jeans pocket with his other hand. “Once she gets back home and gets reoriented, this shouldn’t last very long. She’ll probably be fine by the time we come back.”
“C’mon. Let’s head home,” Rob said as he stepped away. Slowly, the others followed his broad shoulders to the car, dodging traffic across the long expanse of the rapidly emptying parking lot.
Once they got in the car and under way, the mood seemed to lighten a bit. Caroline nudged Karl’s shoulder and said, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it? You were dreading going to mass like you would a whipping. I thought it was nice.”
Karl was about to respond that if he’d known his mother was not going to recognize them, he’d have skipped it altogether. But remembering the transcendent moment he’d had after communion, he decided against it. While it wasn’t a miraculous conversion, it was something, and far more than he would have expected. He thought perhaps for all he’d given the church in the past ten years or so, it was all he could expect. But the undeniable fact was that he did feel something still. It was too private to be flippant about or even try to explain, so he settled on nudging Caroline’s shoulder in reply and giving her a smile.