Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (18 page)

“On the road, working. We were proud of you, Mama. I didn’t want for anything! And you always came home and—”

“But there is no excuse. I think—if I had put my dream off, deferred it, you and Melody would get along better and things, in general, would be better.”

“Mama.” Rhapsody sighed. “You can’t accept responsibility for Melody’s mess! The woman has it in for me!” She laughed angrily. “It has nothing to do with you, she’s just crazy. It isn’t your fault.”

“No.” her mother shook her head. “Rhapsody, that’s where you’re wrong. Melody told me that I treated you differently after I had to retire from singing. She told me that I tried to live my dreams through you, pushing you out for rehearsals and left her in the wind. If I did, it wasn’t intentional, but I can’t argue with the girl. She is entitled to feel how she feels.” The woman shrugged sadly, her shoulders slumped. “I saw you had a gift, everyone did. I wanted you to have your chance, you know? Melody is gifted, too. She’s great at planning events, she is great at her job, she just can’t sing.” She laughed heartily as she tapped the table with her fingertips.

Rhapsody offered a sympathetic smile. She knew better than to toot her own horn or overdose on her mother’s compliments. Mama was coming for her; she could just feel it...

They shared a brief silence.

“So, how are you doing, Rhapsody? We haven’t had any girl chat for a
while...”

...And she was right.

“I am doing good, Mama.”

“You smile a lot more lately...you’ve got your pep in your step back. I like that.” Her mother grinned as she ran her hand along the dog-eared plastic placemat. “You been keeping any new company?” she asked, eyebrow lifting.

A chill went up and down Rhapsody’s spine.

Do I make up something or tell the truth? Shit. I know the answer...

The dreaded conversation had reared its ugly head. She hadn’t shared the information with anyone but Tyra, and even in that conversation, she kept the details under lock and key. She surely wasn’t going to confide in Melody, but she’d been wrestling the last few days with the realization that she was developing stronger feelings for the man... Surely, Mama would not approve and Melody would have a field day with the information if she ever got wind of it.

“It’s nothing romantic, just a friend. He is really nice.”

“I see...” Her mother paused, licked her upper lip, an all-knowing smile forcing Rhapsody to suddenly turn away, as if the clandestine key to reveal her shrouded contemplations had been presented.

“You can’t fool me, girl.” Her mother cackled. “If it
isn’t
romantic, then you want it to be.” She sighed. “I’m just glad what’s his name is gone,” she said, shaking her head, her lips twisting in disgust.

Raul. Mr.
Lovah Man... Scumbag.

“Yes, we don’t need to say his name.” Rhapsody looked absently out the window. “But believe you me, that is loooong over with.”

They shared another brief silence.

“What is it? Is he married?” her mother didn’t look directly at her, but Rhapsody’s throat caught a lump. She ran her fingers up and down her neck, alarmed, not sure how to answer. To say ‘Yes’ wasn’t exactly true, and to say ‘No’ wasn’t either. But Rhapsody would never date an actually married man...she found the notion repugnant and it was against her beliefs. After all, when she initially thought he did have a wife, she was seething, and immediately removed her wayward thoughts only to realize his ‘wife’ was a building with people inside milling about taking communion...

“Why’d you ask me that?” Rhapsody’s said as a mixture of defensiveness and alarm swarmed within her...as well as a need to buy an additional second or two.

“Because you are being secretive. I’m just grasping at straws here, but it would have to be something like that for you to keep this from me. You always tell me about your love life...
always.
” Her mother smiled at her and winked. “You’re grown, Rhapsody. I can’t tell you what to do. Now, if you ask for my advice, then,” she shrugged, “that is a different matter altogether.” She continued to stare at her, as if waiting for Rhapsody to take the bait.

“Would you like something to drink?” Rhapsody offered finally, trying to buy even
more
time but to also help her mom.

“There is some sweet tea in there.” Her mother pointed to the refrigerator.

“Sounds good, I’ll pour us both a glass.” Rhapsody opened one of the tall white kitchen cabinets and removed two red cups, wishing her mother had something strong she could mix in it. Rarely a drinker, she thought however she may need the extra edge to confide completely to the woman. In all honestly, her mother was her best friend, and she only kept things from her, if she felt somehow her actions wouldn’t be understood. She tried to make good choices, and typically she did, but when it came to men, Rhapsody was the first to admit sometimes her judgment was lacking. One thing was clear, however—she would never again accept the likes of someone like Raul and she remained optimistic about finding ‘the one’ someday, although that expectation no longer ruled her. She never chased love or a boyfriend; it would simply happen and she’d welcome it, sometimes not checking out the merchandise deep within before making her final purchase.

“Tell me about him.” Her mother cut through her wayward thoughts as they sat together, their cool glasses in hand.

“He’s a priest.” Rhapsody tried to wipe the smile off her face, but couldn’t. It sounded so funny coming out, so ridiculous, she couldn’t help it and before long, she was cracking up. Her eyes squinted and tears welled in them. She cast her sight back toward her mother who was slowly shaking her head and tapping the table with her French manicured gel tips.

“Rhapsody,” her mother laughed, “I don’t know about you sometimes, girl...”

“Mama, I told you it wasn’t romantic, see?” She continued to laugh, so much she had to set her glass down as the contents threatened to spill.

“How’d you meet a priest, Rhapsody? Are you Catholic now?” she joked, knowing full well Rhapsody was somewhat against organized religion.

“Guess what? I actually went to high school with him. I’ll admit it. I thought he was attractive back then, but we never spoke, not even once. I never even knew his name.” Rhapsody filled in the story, bit by bit, telling her how she’d came across Dane in the park. “And he lost his best friend...we struck up a conversation and have been talking almost daily now. It really was just that simple.”

“You saw a priest sitting on a bench drinking a pint of liquor?” her mother back tracked, her finger pointed directly at her daughter’s face.

Rhapsody lowered her head and chuckled. “Yup, and I haven’t seen him drink since...said he was depressed. His friend had died, Mom. I understand it. He was open with me once we talked about it more.”

She looked at her mother. The older woman seemed to be rolling the information around, weaving thoughts beneath her furrowed brows, sizing it up, stretching it out and dissecting it like a biology guinea pig. She looked toward the kitchen window, a smile on her face as she obviously deliberated. A part of Rhapsody wanted to hear what dear ol’ Mom had to say about the whole situation. It was so gray, nebulous, so unclear, but another part didn’t want to hear one word at all. Her mother never really showed disappointment in her, and she feared, she just may this time. She’d made it clear nothing had happened with the man, but she wasn’t going to lie to the woman and say her heart didn’t skip a beat or two when her eyes met his...

“Well,” her mother looked back at her casually, “you two seem to need each other.” She watched her mother slowly stand to her feet, and swallow the last bit of her sweet tea. “That’s what it looks like to me.”

“Oh, but I’m fine,” Rhapsody offered. “I mean, he was helpful to talk to, you know. I did speak to him about Melody and me but—”

“You’re
not
fine, Rhapsody.” Her mother smiled and nodded at her, a smile filled with wisdom and understanding. “You
pretend
to be fine, and from what you’ve shared, he did the same. You hide your truest concerns, hate feeling as if you don’t have control over a situation. It is the one aspect of your life that contradicts your personality, and you struggle with it.”

Rhapsody felt a chill in the room. She wasn’t sure if it was real or self-imposed. For one of the first times in her life, she felt uncomfortable in her mother’s home. The woman was too close, hitting a nerve, a place that Rhapsody hadn’t traveled yet. She did have some resentment and pain, the loss of her father at such a young age, the emotional turmoil she endured with Raul, and now...now she had romantic feelings for a priest, for God’s sake. Melody was just one of many wrinkles in her life fabric, and she decided to place the tightly rolled material atop her head, open her mouth, and let it all burst forth in the form of a song...

So many songs she’d written, standing at the sidelines of her own life, giving herself therapy from a distance with a chorus and funky drum solo...but once the music stopped, all that was left was her raw voice—out there in the air, lingering, shining, golden expressions begging to be heard.

But when was she going to sit down and actually listen to it?

~***~

He coiled the phone chord in between his fingers as he leaned back on the headrest. While his cellphone charged, he’d resorted to his landline, enjoying the rustic feel of the experience. This conversation helped bring back moments from his childhood, and his cheeks were already sore from all the laughter, so much so, he’d shoot a look at his apartment door, reminding himself to ‘tone it down.’

“So what happened next?” he asked.

“He told her she must have a lot of her mind, because her head was super big so it must’ve just rolled on out.”

He burst out laughing again, rolling to his side and facing his bedroom window. Oh, it felt so good. The silly conversation was just what the doctor ordered. Boy did he miss her. He was so happy to be back home.

“Hey, can I ask you a religion question?” she asked, after his laughter subsided.

“Of course.” he immediately sat up, prepared to listen to every word.

“Why aren’t priests allowed to marry? I never understood that. I mean, it isn’t in the Bible, is it? I don’t think it is.”

“Well, you’re right, it isn’t in the Bible. The reason for that Rhapsody is because our attention needs to be focused on the Church and the work of God. That is our mission. Married men are divided. Marriage is good, but we believe that priests should not enter marriage, because then our attention would be focused on our wives and subsequent children from that union.”

“Hmmm, I see. That doesn’t seem quite fair, still...you know, I believe Jesus was married. I really do.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that theory before. It’s an interesting one. It grew in popularity due to the fairly recent buzz regarding the Da Vinci Code.”

“Did you see the movie?” He detected a faint laugh, ever so slight...

“In fact, I did.”

“Really? I’d think you’d be against that.”

“Why?”

“Because well, it criticized the Catholic church to some degree.”

“It’s art—in art lie truth and lies, or shall I say, perception and interpretation. I take it as such.”

“So, you think it is a lie that the church is corrupt and Jesus was married?”

“Well, as far as Jesus being married, I don’t believe so, no, but if he were, it still wouldn’t negate his teachings.”

“Right, he still was effective, so why would priests be forced into celibacy if Jesus could marry? God never told Jesus he couldn’t marry, so why would that be expected of priests? That doesn’t make sense to me.”

Dane grinned and clutched the phone a bit tighter, enjoying the conversation. For some, it may have unnerved them the way Rhapsody kept digging and searching, grabbing clumsily at controversy, but landing her points never the same. But, for him it proved his suspicions that she
did
understand his religion to some degree, and found it interesting.

“Let me ask you, Rhapsody, what are your beliefs before we continue with this conversation? I’ll address everything else you said. I just want to know...”

“Well,” she hesitated, “I believe that there is a God and I believe in Jesus. So, I suppose that makes me a Christian by definition but I think the Bible is all messed up, though. I think it has been tampered with and used to control people, to get people to fall in line with the laws of the land. I just live by the golden rule, you know? I don’t complicate my life with religion. It is messy. If we all just treated each other with respect, then it wouldn’t even be an issue. I don’t need a bunch of rules. I respect other people’s beliefs though. ”

“I can understand that perspective, I really can,” he said earnestly. Instead of digging forward as he was tempted to, he kept to his promise and answered the rest of her earlier queries.

“Now, as far as Church corruption, every manmade entity is flawed, Rhapsody. We are men first, and that appears to be the most forgotten fact when an offense takes place that reaches media attention. We aren’t puppets or flying on auto-pilot. Priests, ministers...we feel the same way you do. We have the same needs and desires, we are just to handle them differently.”