give us a paper. That’s all we lacked; other than that, we’ve been married for twenty-six years.
He turned and stood, back to her, shaking his head as if it were leaden.
“Tony … I’m halfway across the bridge.” Beth was pleading abjectly. “Help me get all the way! Please.” Her voice sank. “Please …”
He turned back and stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “I’ll be out for a while,” he said finally. He wheeled about and left. He didn’t even slam the door.
From that moment on, she knew, though she tried to deny, that what had been a lifetime commitment was no more. Tony would not budge-she knew he wouldn’t. She would have to choose between Tony and her newfound faith.
Tony drove aimlessly, not knowing where to turn. Then, in an inspired moment, he pulled off the road and placed a phone call.
I’m batting a thousand, thought Father Koesler. First-years ago-it had been Vincent Delvecchio asking to go to confession. Then, years later, Lucy had phoned to get some help in conscience formation. Now it was Anthony who wanted to see him. That took care of the last Delvecchio sibling. Something had to be pretty important for a non-churchgoer like Tony to want to talk to a priest.
Koesler answered the door. Tony seemed to be all right. But when the two were seated in the rectory living room, it became apparent that the younger man was deeply shaken.
Koesler listened as Tony told the complete story. Meeting and falling in love with Beth. Their setting up housekeeping. His mother’s death. His loss of faith; his abandoned church attendance. The good years of football, celebrity, an announcing course. And always Beth and their deepening love. Then her need for “something more” and her attraction to Catholicism. And then, in great detail, the instructions given her by his brother. The four- month brother-sister relationship. Now the demand of six more months.
“Those are the essentials, Father. To be honest”-he looked at Koesler steadily-“I don’t think you priests understand what being married is all about. To expect a married man-well, almost any man except a priest-to go ten months without sex is … well … unrealistic, to say the least.”
When Tony had reached the point in his story spelling out the final six-month abstinence and separation, Koesler’s mouth dropped open and stayed open. He now closed his mouth only in order to speak.
“Tony …” Koesler stopped and, as if overcome with the enormity of it all, shook his head. After a deep sigh, he continued. “It’s true about the statistics involving divorce among Catholics and the skyrocketing of annulments granted. The latest Code of Canon Law orders a better, more complete, more realistic, more thorough preparation for marriage. In this archdiocese, if a couple, usually a young couple, are already living together, there is a directive to, if possible, live separately for six months.
“You see,” he explained to Tony’s uncomprehending gaze, “the thinking is that young people become infatuated and passionate. Now there’s nothing wrong with that. But it seems very clear, and experience supports the view, that this is not sufficient to sustain marriage through the long haul. So when difficulties mount, the young couple with nothing more than mere fascination and passion as a foundation can’t hold things together. And so follows divorce, and annulment, and a second marriage that has no better foundation than the first.”
Koesler paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice, though still firm, had softened.
“But, Tony, the priest has a lot of discretion in this matter. I can’t think of a single priest I know who would require separation of you and Beth. In fact, I can’t think of a priest who wouldn’t convalidate your marriage with no waiting period.”
“I can,” Tony said dejectedly.
Koesler wanted to be helpful in some practical, way. “You can tell Beth what I’ve told you about the separation requirement. She may be agreeable to talking to me-or just about any prie-no, hold that: If you go to see another priest, better check it out with me first. I can’t think of anyone who would be so rigorous, but I don’t know everybody. Besides, you might find someone who, while agreeing with what I’ve told you, wouldn’t want to confront a bishop.”
Tony assured Koesler he had been a great help. And, as Tony left, Koesler promised to pray for him.
As Tony drove home, he rehearsed what he could say that would move Beth away from his brother and toward sanity. This had better be a moving, convincing argument: His future teetered in the balance.
He let himself in and walked to the dining room. Everything, like a freeze-frame, was exactly as he had left it. Dishes on the table; dessert half eaten; coffee half drunk-and Beth seated just as she had been. Tony was impressed.
He told her he’d been to see Father Koesler and recounted what the priest had said. “… so, will you go with me to talk to Father?”
Beth looked at him wearily. “The bishop warned me this might happen … even to your going to appeal to Father Koesler.” She shook her head. “I can’t go to anyone else, Tony. I’m convinced that the bishop is right. There isn’t any chance that you …?” She left the sentence unfinished.
Could he? He had to give it one more time around his brain. Was it worth it? Moving out for six months? The alternative was to move out for good. Life without Beth. They would be dead to each other without being buried. Was it worth all that?
He looked long and longingly at his love. She was gone already. The real Beth had disappeared into Vince’s peculiar world. Tony had already lost her. All that remained was for him to leave.
“I’ll be here tomorrow to pick up my stuff. I’ll have our lawyer get in touch with you. Anything you want from our life together, you can have. I won’t be back.”
Tony turned and left and never looked back.
As the front door closed, Beth collapsed in wrenching sobs.
Tears flowed freely from Tony’s eyes as he drove away. Vision obscured, he pulled off the road and wept.
The Present
“Wow!” It was Father Tully’s turn to have his mouth drop open. “Delvecchio has his own Church going out at St. Waldo’s. I can understand you may prefer people to live apart while they’re preparing for marriage …
“And that business of requiring a brother-sister arrangement for the duration of instructions is just plain crazy!”
“Not to Vincent. These policies of his are neither broadcast nor secretive. When a couple shows up at St. Waldo’s to arrange for a wedding, they’re screened by one of the other priests. If it’s not a ‘problem’ wedding-if it’s a straight Catholic marriage with no complications-the associate priest handles it.
“But if there’s a hook, like cohabitation, Delvecchio takes it. If they refuse to live apart, they may get married somewhere else-but not at St. Waldo’s.
“And,” Koesler added, “since it’s Vinnie’s law, he can-and occasionally does-dispense with it.”
Tully’s brow raised in wonderment. “But not for his own brother?”
“Not for his own brother!”
“But why not?”
“I have no idea …” Koesler began to pace. “You know, Zack, in the course of giving you at least a partial biography of Vincent Delvecchio, I have begun to see him in a different light. Something’s knocking at my brain … it’s like a badly formed mist that’s trying to clear up so I can perceive Vincent with a clarity I didn’t have before.”
“What about Martha?” Tully asked, “the last peg in this story?”
Koesler stopped pacing. “Martha …” He shook his head. “Bullheadedness I think, on both their parts. Delvecchio got it into his mind that his aunt caused his mother’s cancer by shunning her. And the cancer became fatal when Martha refused reconciliation. Martha, for her part, divorced herself from a Catholic Church that she felt had caused her husband’s sulci-uh, death.” Father Walsh’s long-ago doubts again crept in. Koesler shook his head
