Chapter Forty-Four
Epilogue
I was in the backyard, putting new sod in along the back fence when Nina came running out of the house holding her phone and yelling, “Dad! Dad! Phone for you! It’s Gramps!”
“Why didn’t he call me on my phone?” I asked, as I pulled off a dirt-covered work glove and took the phone from her.
“This is your phone, Dad,” Nina laughed.
“Hey Pop, what’s up?” I said, as I watched Nina unroll a length of sod and then walk on it with her bare feet. I pulled the phone away and yelled at her, “Hey, get off that! You’re gonna kill the grass before it even has a chance!”
“Blake, what’s going on over there?” my dad asked.
“Nina’s messing with the sod, Pop,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to let you know that your mother said we’ll be ready around 4 today,” he replied. “She’s firing up the grill and says you might want to bring a few extra six-packs.”
“Gotcha,” I said. “Anything else we need?”
“Nope, I think you mother’s taken care of everything else,” he said. “Well, except for what you need to bring.”
“Yeah, I got it,” I said, as I watched Nina carefully roll up the sod she’d unrolled and put it back on the pile.
“You sure you’re okay with this, son?” my dad asked.
“Never been surer of anything in my life,” I said with a grin that I was sure he could hear even if he couldn’t see it.
“All right, then we’ll be ready for you this afternoon!” my dad said before hanging up.
“Everything ready?” Nina asked, as I handed the phone back to her.
“So they say,” I nodded, as I pulled on the work glove and grabbed the rake I’d dropped on the lawn. “I just need to finish this before we go.”
“You’re crazy, old man,” Nina sighed then giggled. “You know that, right?”
“So, I’ve been told,” I grinned, as I pulled the rake through the dark earth before spreading a layer of fertilizer on top of it and then mixing it in.
I watched as Nina ran back to the house and up the stairs. It had been a relatively quiet summer compared to the dramatic spring we’d had. Nina had moved in with me the day that the judge had awarded me full custody, and Remy and I had hammered out a visitation schedule that had kept the hard feelings to a minimum. Nina and Remy had been attending counseling sessions on a weekly basis, and while Nina said nothing much had changed, I begged to differ. Remy had softened since the hearing, and she was spending more time trying to get to know Nina rather than control her. It would be a long road to travel to get to a place where they had a relationship like mine and Nina’s, but I could see progress every time Nina came home from a session.
I finished aerating the section I’d been working on and decided it was time to call it a day. I covered the sod with a plastic tarp and put the tools in the garage before heading into the house to take a shower.
I smiled when I walked into the kitchen and saw Nina sitting at the counter cutting up potatoes while Emily washed dishes at the sink. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist.
“Hey! You’re sweaty and dirty!” she cried, as I kissed the top of her head. “I’m all ready for the barbecue; don’t make me have to clean up again!”
“I’m not that dirty,” I laughed, as I pulled back and saw that I’d left a smudge of mud on her cheek. I reached out to wipe it away but only made it worse. I laughed, “Okay, maybe I am.”
“Dad! Stop getting Emily dirty!” Nina cried, as she shot me a death stare, then picked up a towel and crossed the kitchen to come to Emily’s rescue. Nina wiped the dirt off of Emily’s cheek, then turned and flicked the towel at me shouting, “Go get cleaned up, old man!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” I laughingly protested. “I’m not that old.”
“Well, old or not, go get cleaned up,” Emily laughed, as she turned back to the sink. “Your mother will kill you if we’re late again!”
I headed back to the bathroom to shower and change, feeling happier than I had in a very long time. Emily and I had begun patching things up after the hearing, and while it hadn’t been easy, we’d managed to find a way to make things work. After school was out, she’d signed a summer lease on a house just down the street from mine and stayed with Nina on the nights I was working. We’d talked about moving in together, but she was hesitant to do anything that would cause any more problems at school now that she’d completed all of the requirements of the probation set by the school board. Instead, she’d begun looking for a house that she could buy on my block.
Nina, Emily, and I had spent numerous off days touring houses and talking about how Emily might be able to renovate one of them to meet her needs. Nina focused on making the home Howard-friendly, while Emily thought about how to accommodate her frequent guests - us. She’d put an offer on a house three doors down from mine, but someone else had come in with a higher offer at the last minute. Emily was disappointed, but remained optimistic.
Today we were headed to my parents’ for a barbecue and their annual domino tournament. I was excited to bring Emily to the gathering for the first time and have her meet the rest of the Gaston family, and Nina was excited to be able to bring her new boyfriend, Brandon, to the gathering, despite the fact that I was still on the fence as to whether I liked him or not.
Emily assured me that he was a good student and a nice young man, but I didn’t like the idea of my daughter dating any high school boy at all. After all, I knew what they were like. Every time Brandon came by to pick Nina up for a date, I’d give him the third degree about where they were going and when they’d be back. If Emily was around, she’d smile and intervene to give the boy a break, but I wanted him to fear me enough to ensure that my daughter arrived home safe and sound — and on time.
I had just finished shaving when Emily entered the bathroom and gave me the once-over.
“Mmm, you look very good, Mr. Gaston,” she said with a smile as she walked toward the mirror. She looked beautiful in a blue summer sundress with her long blonde hair spilling across her shoulders. I turned, pulled her into my arms, and kissed her deeply. She rested her palms on my chest as we kissed and I quickly felt myself approaching the point of no return, as I always did when she touched me. Emily pulled back a little and whispered, “You smell amazing. Better get ready, big guy, or I’m going to be the one making us late today.”
I grinned suggestively at her as I put my hand on the edge of the towel I had tucked around my waist. She laughed loudly and shook her head as she moved away.
“What? Suddenly I’m chopped liver?” I pouted.
“Oh, I think you know you’re not,” she laughed. “But do you want to explain to your mother why you made us late again?
“No, I don’t think I do,” I grumbled
It didn’t take me long to get dressed, and by the time I joined Emily and Nina in the living room, Brandon had arrived and was pacing nervously behind the couch. We shook hands, and as he looked to Nina for reassurance, I pulled him toward me and slapped him on the back saying, “Son, it’s all good. Relax.”
“Yes, sir,” he nodded solemnly, before letting go of my hand and taking Nina’s. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, Emily slipped her hand in mind and pushed me toward the door.
“Got everything, Dad?” Nina called, as we walked toward the truck.
“Yep!” I replied.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I’m sure!” I said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Now will you let it go?”
“Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “Just trying to be helpful. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
I chuckled as I slid into the driver’s seat and stuck the key in the ignition. Emily shot me a questioning look from the passenger seat, but I just shook my head and waved her off. As we pulled out of the driveway, I was Jake and Kathy standing in their front yard smiling and waving. I offered a quick wave and a smile before I put the truck in drive.
“You’ve got some really nice neighbors,” Emily commented, as she smiled and waved. “We should invite them over for dinner sometime.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said looking away. “Sure.”
“Do you not like them, Blake?” she asked.
“Long story,” I said, glancing up at the rear view mirror and then back at the road in front of me. “I’ll explain later.”
When we arrived at my parents’ house, the driveway was empty, but cars lined the street. When we got out and began to unload the food and beer from the back of the truck, Brian and his friends came rushing out the front door and swept it all inside without a word.
“That’s weird,” Emily said, watching the posse of guys move back into the house.
“C’mon, let’s go around back and see what my dad’s cooked up,” I said, as I reached out and took her hand.
We walked around the side of the house, and as I flipped open the side gate, I could hear voices chattering excitedly. I held tight to Emily’s hand as we rounded the corner. She gasped when she saw the crowd of people standing around my parents’ backyard, sipping cocktails and looking around expectantly.
“Blake, what’s going on?” Emily asked, looking up at me and then back at the crowd. “Why are all of these — Mother? Daddy? Becca? KO? What are you doing here?”
“Ellie and Alan came to see us and asked us to come to the barbecue,” my mother said in a stilted voice. “We knew you might not want to see us, but we wanted to make an effort to see you.”
“But why here? Why now?” Emily asked.
“I think Blake can explain better than we can,” her father stepped forward and hugged her quickly before backing away again.
“Blake, what’s going on?” Emily asked, obviously confused by the entire scene. I nodded at my brother and when he hit play on his phone the first lines of Elvis singing one of the greatest love songs ever filtered through the patio speakers.
“Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can’t help…falling in love with you.”
“Emily, I wanted everyone here today because I wanted the to hear me say how much I love you,” I said, as I faced her and took both her hands. “I’ve known you were someone special from the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“You mean when I lectured you about how you needed to help Nina improve her grades or the time I burned my house down and you rescued me?” Emily said with a wry grin, and the crowd laughed.
“I mean when you could have collapsed, and you didn’t; you took care of Howard, and you found a way to push forward despite losing everything,” I said, looking into her eyes. “You are strong and smart, and you inspire me to be a better person.”
“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? For I can’t help…falling in love with you.”
“I love you, too, Blake,” Emily said, smiling warmly up at me.
“So, I thought it would be a good idea to have everyone we love here today,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small blue box I’d been carrying for months as I dropped to one knee and said, “Emily Fowler, will you do me the great honor of agreeing to be my wife?”
I flipped the box open to reveal a simple round diamond set in a platinum band. Emily gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as she looked at the ring and then back at me in utter shock. I plucked the ring out of the box and held it out as an offering as I waited for her reply.
There were tears in her eyes as she nodded, and then she held out her hand so that I could put the ring on her finger. As I slid the ring on her finger, she whispered, “Oh Blake, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
The entire crowd burst into applause and cheers as I quickly hopped to my feet and wrapped my arms around her waist to pull her in for a big kiss. Emily wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back. When she pulled back to look at me, I could see her eyes shining as she smiled up at me.
We turned and faced the crowd of people who had gathered to celebrate our engagement, and together we raised our linked hands in a sign of victory. Nina stepped forward out of the crowd and wrapped her arms around both of us, then turned and yelled, “She said yes!”
The music burst forth from the stereo, and the party began in earnest as everyone surged forward to congratulate us on our engagement. It was heartening to see Emily’s parents genuinely happy for us, and I hoped that in the coming months, we’d be able to build some bridges that would enable us to keep them in our lives, but if not, then I knew we’d be fine.
“I’m proud of you, son,” my dad said, as he put an arm around me and looked over at Emily, who was now laughing with Nina and my mother as they flipped burgers on the grill together. “She’s a good woman, and she’ll be a great addition to this family.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, as I smiled and accepted a beer from my brother.
“Yeah, maybe she’ll like you enough to add another little Gaston to the mix,” Brian said, slugging my shoulder.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” I laughed. “We’ve got a teenager in the house now, and I’m not sure Emily is going to want to start over.”
“Not want to start over what?” Emily asked, as she joined us and took my hand. I raised it to my lips and kissed it before I replied.
“Start a whole new family after raising a teenager,” I said, smiling at her.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she grinned, then leaned in and whispered, “But we’ve got plenty of time to practice.”
“I love you, Emily,” I said, as I leaned down and kissed her.
That’s the end of the The Single Dad. Below I included 4 of my previous books to read as a free bonus.
PRIEST
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
CHAPTER ONE
JACE
I stood in front of the floor-length mirror in my room at the church where I’d served as parish priest for the past two years. I stared at myself in my black cassock and thought about the days ahead.
It wasn’t moving to a new church that troubled me—it was moving forward with a crucial piece of my life no longer intact. I’ve been devout in my faith since I was a child. But as I gazed at my reflection…I was having doubts.
I looked at the man in the mirror and instead of seeing Father Jace, I saw the reflection of a frightened little boy. That little boy had been brought to where he was through the love and devotion of a woman—and now she was gone and I was questioning everything about my life.
My grandmother used to say, “Be humble and respectful to everyone, whether you are sure they deserve it or not.” She taught me not to judge people too harshly and that if you worked hard and did good things, you would always prosper.
When Grandma talked about prospering, she wasn’t talking about money. She taught my brothers and me that prosperity was about your family and your friends. The people that you kept within your inner circle said more about you than anything, according to her, and I had come to believe that myself.
She also always said that if you looked hard enough, no matter how far you stray, it was always possible to find a path back into God’s good graces. That one I used to believe without a doubt, but those doubts had started to work their way in.
I had strayed from my faith the moment they told me she was dead. I had spent most of my nights since railing against God, instead of praying to Him. My grandmother didn’t need my prayers for her soul. She was the purest soul that ever existed. The irony is if she were still here, she would be the first to tell me to hit my knees and pray hard for forgiveness.
I was holding out hope I’d be ready to do that soon, but for the time being, I’d have to fake it. That day, repentance was not on the agenda. I knew that when I had to stand there and helplessly watch them lower her into the ground, instead of rejoicing for her soul, I would be agonizing over the pain in mine.
I was angry, but I was not supposed to be. I was a priest, but damn it, I was also human. My grandmother was dead. She was the light that always beckoned me home, no matter how lost I’ve been. I was angry and sad and confused, and no amount of praying would give me the answers to my questions. How was I supposed to find my way any longer?
It was just after 12 o'clock. The old church bells rang out, and from my second story room, I could hear the flock of pigeons the bells sent into disarray as they cooed and flapped violently away from the bell tower of the old church.
I heard the echo of each slow chime as I made my way through the cavernous inner halls on my way to the vestry. The sounds reverberated off the stones that held the sacred building together and bounced off the stained glass windows and polished, oak pews.
With a heavy heart and a deep ache in my soul, I draped the white stole about my neck in preparation for the mass I was about to say, as was tradition. I begged God to give me on the last day the garment of immortality that was forfeited by our sinful first parents.
I was on autopilot. I was a priest; it was what I did, what I knew to do.
The mourners filled the church, and I believed that I handled the mass with as much dignity as humanly possible. I had a hard time suppressing my own grief as I watched the broken faces of my brothers in the front pew. I managed to keep it together, and even remain pious in my thoughts, until we reached the cemetery.
When I stepped out of the black car into the brilliant sunlight and looked around at the vibrant colors of spring that surrounded me, my anger returned with a vengeance. My grandmother was dead and the sun was offensively bright and cheerful.
It was as if God and the elements were conspiring to show me that the world would go on just fine without her. It shouldn't, and that’s what I was so angry about. As far as I was concerned, everything should be as dark and gray as my emotions were. The weather should have been damp and cold, and the birds should not have been singing in the trees overhead.
I walked through the cemetery like a silhouette of myself. I wished that I was as insubstantial as the shadows. Shadows don’t have to feel the tangle of emotions that were twisting around in my gut. I stood near the freshly dug hole and waited for the coffin to arrive.
I was no longer apologetic to my Father in Heaven. I was pissed.
******
“Touching service, Father,” a young congregate said to me as she shook my hand after the funeral. I forced a smile and nodded at her.
“My condolences for your loss, Father. Your grandmother was a great lady,” the next one told me as he shook my hand.
“We’ll all miss her, Father…”
It went on and on. My head felt like it might literally explode and shoot off my shoulders before the last member of the congregation shook my hand and headed for their car. Finally, I was alone with my grandmother and my brothers.
“How are you doing, Jace?” My brother Max was at my side. He was the oldest and the one that would be counted on to hold us together with Grandma gone.
“I’ve been better,” I said, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “How about you?” My other brother, Ryan, walked up as we talked.
“I’m hanging in there. I’m not sure what to do without her. She will be sorely missed.” I had no doubts Max would miss her, but he’d been independent since we were taken from the house of horrors that was our life and placed with Grandmother when he was ten. I was six at the time, and Ryan was only six months.
Ryan’s eyes and face were swollen and red. He still lived with Grandmother, and I had no doubts her death would leave the biggest void in his life. She coddled him a little too much, and at twenty-five, he was more dependent on her than a man really had a right to be.
“Hey,” he said with a chin tilt. Even at a funeral he was still clinging to the cool-guy, motorcycle stud stereotype. I opened my arms and it all fell away. He folded into them and sought the strength of his big brother and priest. I could at least be one of those for him.
As soon as I closed my arms around him, his shoulders began to shake and he unloaded the grief that he’d been trying so hard to hold back. “I know that I’m not supposed to think like this,” he said between sobs, “But I’m so angry, Jace. We all still needed her. Why does God let things like this happen? She was nothing but good. Why does he take the good ones so soon?”
Ryan, out of all of us, had struggled with his faith the most. It was the first time I didn’t have answers for him. I’d been asking those questions myself.
“I wish I knew, Ryan. All we can do now is have faith and trust that she’s at peace and we’ll see her again someday.” Such a priest-like thing to say…but I was at a loss.
My brother seemed to accept it. He nodded against my shoulder and then pulled back and looked at my face. His green eyes were so much like mine, and his sandy-blond hair fell down across his forehead the same way that mine did when it got too long.
He was a younger version of me, but even priest compared to biker, he was a more innocent version. Ryan hadn’t known our parents long enough for the scars to take hold of him. Grandmother was all he’d ever known as a caregiver, and she did a stellar job.
“I have to take off,” Max said. “I have a meeting across town at four. Maybe we can all have lunch Sunday?”
“If it’s a late lunch,” I said. “I’ll be serving my first Mass at St. Luke’s on Sunday.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re moving to Lexington tomorrow, I almost forgot. At least it’s only thirty minutes away.”
“Yeah, I’ll still see you guys a lot. Let’s plan on three for lunch at Mike and Patty’s. Will that work for you, Ryan?”
My little brother looked like I’d pulled him out from under the water as he refocused his attention. “Mike and Patty’s at three. I’ll be there.”
I hugged them both again and watched them go before I made my way back to the car the church provided for me. I climbed into the backseat and the driver said, “Back to the church, Father?”
“Yes. Actually, if you don’t mind, Mitch, can we swing by Albert’s Grocery on the way?”
******
Two hours after my grandmother’s earthly body was lowered into the ground, I sat in my upstairs room at St. Anthony’s parish, still in my cassock and scarf, sipping scotch out of the bottle.
I’d gone into Albert’s Grocery under the guise of buying my specialty tea. The driver had stayed in the car, so it was easy to slip the bottle of scotch into my reusable bag and take it through the self-check-out. A priest buying a bottle of scotch might cause some talk. A priest sitting alone in his room drinking scotch was not only pathetic…he was destined to be tortured by guilt.
At that point, I was willing to deal with the consequences when they arose. Being numb had its benefits.