never really in love with you?”
“No. She was in love with my wife.” He smiled sadly. “I think some part of her died with Susan.”
“But she always talked about you,” Leah said, shaking her head and putting her arms around him again. Had her mother really been in love with another woman? “Said you were such a catch.”
“It was a cover, I guess,” he said, holding her close. “She’s never remarried. She doesn’t date. I think she’s had to pretend so long, maybe some part of her believes it. I don’t know.”
A thought suddenly occurred to her and she asked, “Did my mother know what they were going to do to Erica?”
“You mean the operation?”
“Yes.”
“Patty told me, after Susan died, that my wife did it without her knowledge. Father Patrick had it all arranged. Your mother didn’t know, not until it was too late,” Rob replied, his eyes dark with anger. “My wife betrayed both of us for that pompous old pervert. She made a promise to Patty she wouldn’t ever let Erica join the Mary Magdalenes that she never intended to keep.”
“I just don’t understand her,” Leah said finally.
“Susan?” Rob gave a short, little laugh. “I thought I knew her. But I was wrong. They say love is blind, but it’s not. It’s not blind or deaf-it’s dumb. We still see and hear everything, we just don’t ever say so. Love makes forget who we are without that other person. ”
“I meant my mother,” Leah said, considering his words. “Not Susan. I really don’t understand either of them.”
“Don’t be too hard on your mother. It can be exhausting to keep a secret.”
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
Rob squeezed her tightly. “When you have to hide who you really are to the world, you create a shell around yourself over time. A painted on coating of lies. It becomes your shield…and your prison.”
“I never thought of it like that.” Leah had only glimpsed the woman her mother really was, she realized. What must it have been like, to be in love with someone you could never acknowledge in public, to be in a secret relationship society deemed not only inappropriate and sinful-but criminal? And her mother had not only had to live with that, but she had sacrificed one of her daughters to be raised by a woman she loved, only to find herself betrayed in the end by her lover.
No wonder she had clung to Leah so tightly.
“She guards her heart very well,” Rob murmured.
Leah felt tears stinging her eyes. “Yes. Yes, she does.”
“Do you understand now why I can’t stop?” Rob asked, punctuating his question with a kiss on her forehead.
Leah sighed, giving him a reluctant, “Yes.”
“And you still love me? And forgive me? And trust me?” He punctuated each of these questions with a kiss too, making her laugh.
“You don’t ask for much do you?” Leah lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “But… yes.”
“Now can we go to dinner?”
She laughed and kissed him. “Yes!”
Chapter Eight
Erica was so late there was no point heading to the Mayflower to meet Father Michael. She had effectively stood him up after telling him she would meet him for coffee on Monday, but she’d been out so late the night before with Clay. He’d taken her to St. Casimir’s in the middle of the night, which is where he put together his underground papers, and they’d spent the night printing the next issue, in between the teasing and the flirting, which had finally overtaken them both, and they’d ended up clearing the workspace.
They’d missed one of the papers though. It had gotten stuck to the small of her back. She still had the reversed image of downtown Detroit in smudged ink on her skin.
All of which explained why she had overslept, right through her alarm, but she couldn’t relate any of that to Father Michael. She just hoped he was in his office at the church. She took the steps two at a time, opening the entry doors, stopping to cross herself out of habit before going off to search for him.
Father Michael’s office was through the vestibule to the left. She had to go through the front office first, a glassed-in area where the church secretaries worked. There were two of them sitting at their desks behind the counter. Erica stepped up to it, clearing her throat. The secretary closest to her looked up-the other one had some sort of earphones on, typing away, oblivious-frowning at the interruption.
“Can I help you?”
“Is Father Michael in?” Erica tried to sound casual, like she came in here all the time asking to see Father Michael, although the secretary probably knew that wasn’t true.
“Is he expecting you?”
“I thought I heard your voice!” Father Michael opened his office door, smiling when he saw Erica standing behind the counter. “It’s fine, Gertie. Come on in my office, Erica.”
Erica smiled at the secretary as she edged by her desk, feeling the woman’s eyes on her as she slipped by Father Michael into his office. He closed the door behind them, looking down at her, still giving her that big, bright smile. She’d stood him up, and here she was five hours late, and still he was glad to see her.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she apologized. “Planning Leah’s wedding is taking up all my time.”
It was as good of an excuse as any she could think of and slipped easily out of her mouth.
“I missed you. But I’m glad you came here to find me.” Father Michael leaned on his cane as he moved around to the other side of his desk. “Go ahead, have a seat.”
Erica slid into one of the two big leather chairs across from him.
“The Mayflower is cozier, isn’t it?”
“This is fine.” Erica looked around, taking in the clutter on his desk, the bookshelves that took up one entire wall, the pictures of the Madonna and child, a large cross and a calendar with the days marked off in red. December 1957 was almost over by the amount of X’s. She couldn’t believe it, but she’d actually never been in Father Michael’s office, in all her years attending church at St. Mary Magdalene’s. “Nice office. No window?”
He laughed. “Father Patrick got the office with the window.”
“Did you thumb-wrestle him for it?” she teased, enjoying the smile it elicited.
“Here’s your Christmas gift.” Father Michael reached into his suit coat pocket. He was wearing a black suit with his collar today rather than his cassock. She liked seeing him in a suit. “Sorry it’s a little late.”
She accepted it a reluctantly, even though it had been the stated reason for her visit. “I didn’t get you anything…”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said with a shake of his head. “Open it.”
The box was small and square and Erica peeled off the paper, finding a ring box inside. Of course, she didn’t expect a proposal-the man was a priest. Even if she had tempted him into sinning by kissing him on two occasions. But for a moment, just one brief moment, her heart thudded in her chest and her hands trembled and she saw two ring boxes sitting in her palm.
“An Elvis ring?” Erica exclaimed as she opened the box. She pulled it out, studying it. It said ELVIS in big letters, decorated in rhinestones. She laughed, trying it on, but it was far too big, even for her thumb. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d met the man-the legend-Elvis Presley himself. She remembered thinking how much Leah was missing that day. And Father Michael had been there. He’d remembered.
“I told you it was just a small thing.” He smiled, looking at it on her thumb. “The man who sold it to me swore Elvis himself wore it, but I believe he also wanted me to buy some swampland down in Florida too…”
She laughed, putting it back in the box. “I’ll wear it on a chain. All the girls will be jealous.”
“They should be.”
