Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“What about the evening Mass?” I ask.
If all of today’s services are cancelled, I’ll probably have to go straight home, and I won’t be able to return until next week.
Another long week of twiddling my thumbs, with nothing to do…
Her expression softens at my concern. “He should be here in time to perform the service. Until then, find some way to keep busy. I’ll take care of all the announcements.”
Taking that as I should get back to work, I nod at her and start sweeping again.
With so much time to kill, once I finish the hall I move on to the sacristy. After finishing the sacristy, I move on to the office.
I work my way through most of the rooms by the time Father Dominic shows up.
“You’re late,” I hear Sister Susan chide him in the hallway.
“Yes, I know,” he snaps back. “It couldn’t be helped.”
Tucked into the broom closet, inventorying the cleaning supplies, I freeze in place. The door to the closet is wide open, and Sister Susan certainly knows I’m right here, but I’m hoping Father Dominic doesn’t notice me.
It’s hard enough to deal with him on a good day. I’d rather avoid him until I have to see him after Mass. Which will be torture enough as it is.
Literally.
“Couldn’t be helped?” Sister Susan scoffs.
“Yes, it couldn’t be helped,” Father Dominic growls. “I was given very little notice I’d need to be here, and traffic was backed up for miles.”
“That’s no excuse!” Sister Susan says, sounding truly indignant. “It is your duty to be prepared to be called on at any time!”
“Duty?” Father Dominic chuckles, but it’s not a friendly chuckle. No, it’s low and dark and sends shivers down my spine.
That chuckle haunts me almost as much as the shadow that invades my dreams…
“Do you really want to get into duty, Sister Susan?” he says coldly.
“Yes, actually, I do,” Sister Susan says without missing a beat. “You have a duty to be here on time. You owe it to our charge. By being late, you put her safety at risk.”
“Owe it to her? I think not! I owe that little—”
“Father Dominic!” Sister Susan cries out, quickly cutting him off. “God is listening!”
It’s quiet for a moment, and then Father Dominic grits out, “Yes, yes He is. How nice of you to remind me, Sister Susan.”
“You’re welcome, Father,” Sister Susan says without an ounce of shame.
Father Dominic chuckles again, sending more shivers down my spine. “Shall I return the favor? Shall I remind you of your duty and what it implies? Your duty is to serve this church and to serve me without questioning me. Is that not correct? God works through me, and it is not your place to question my motives.”
I hear Sister Susan suck in a small breath.
“It would be a shame if I had to report you, wouldn’t it? What would happen to your dear charge then? Now if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for Mass.”
A door opens then slams shut.
Sister Susan grumbles, “Wicked, careless, beast of a man,” under her breath.
Then I hear her footsteps approaching me.
When she steps around the open door, the look she gives me screams she knows I was listening in, and she wanted me to hear all of that.
“Chloe,” she says with an urgency that shouldn’t exist, “you should head out to the nave and take your place for Mass.”
Six
Chloe
Seated in the very back pew of the cathedral, I shift restlessly with the other parishioners, waiting for Mass to begin.
It’s been more than an hour since Father Dominic arrived, but there’s been no sign of him.
The cathedral was nearly full thirty minutes ago but it’s now slowly emptying with each passing minute.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch as one by one those who came to worship grow impatient and slip out the front doors.
And for the first time in my life, I’m half-tempted to join them.
Partly because I’m not looking forward to what comes after Mass, and partly because the hour grows late.
The sun will set soon, and I need to be home well before then.
Focusing on the stained-glass windows and the depictions of angels and the Virgin Mary, I try to find the peace and serenity I usually experience whenever I come to pray and worship.
This is God’s house, and I always feel the closest to Him here, with His eyes upon me.
But today I only feel a growing sense of unease.
So many other things have already gone wrong today, I start to question whether I should have stayed home.
Were they signs? Was God warning me?
Was I too self-involved and obtuse to take heed of them?
Watching the windows darken, their bright, bold colors dimming until they’re muted by the inner lighting, instead of praying for strength and protection I find myself praying for the service to begin.