CHAPTER NINE
DAPHNE
Friday morning, I got up and went to confession before work. I was secretly and guiltily happy that the confessions at this church were held in the old confessionals, where I didn’t have to face the priest. I was in no way perfect, but at my old church where you sat face to face with the priest, I’d never had to confess anything I was this ashamed of.
I know that if I’m going to confess my sins, I should be able to face up to them. But, since I didn’t choose this particular route, I left that much in the hands of God. There was a little sign up that said, “Father Jace will be hearing confession today.”
Father Jace must be the new parish priest. I’d always liked that name. I used to think if I ever had a son, I’d like to name him Jace. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe God is trying to let me know that although I have sinned, my life will go on. I went into the little wooden closet and when I heard the priest pull open his little window I said,
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession.” I thought I heard him take in a deep breath, and I found that strange. I hoped he was okay. He didn’t say anything, so I went on, “In that time, I have committed multiple sins that I’m sorry for, Father. I drank in excess one night, I used foul language, and I had sexual relations with a man whom I am not married to. For these, and all the sins of my past life, especially for my sins of lust, I am truly sorry.”
He still didn’t say anything. I could hear him breathing. It felt like a hesitation to me, and of course, I took it personally, thinking he must be so appalled that he was having a hard time speaking. I wanted to think that he’d heard a lot worse than my paltry sins, but my imagination was working overtime and I pictured him calling me all sorts of things in his head. God was probably going to strike me down just for having those thoughts in church.
I waited, not so patiently, and worried some more as I waited for him to respond. When he did, things only got worse. As soon as I heard the sound of his voice, chills ran from the top of my spine, down my back and across both of my arms. Why was that voice so familiar? I’d heard it recently and something about it made me feel so strange. I listened carefully as he spoke in a slightly shaky voice and I finally remembered where I’d heard that voice before.
It belonged to him—the gorgeous man I’d given my virginity to.
No way; it can’t be him. This is a priest! I let that settle for a moment and then he said something really strange that got my suspicions aroused again. Before we prayed he said, “Does anyone else know about your…indiscretion?”
What an odd question. Why would that matter? A sin was still a sin, whether you told anyone about it or not.
“No, Father, I am too ashamed to tell anyone else. Besides, I believe that it’s between God and me at this point.”
He hesitated again. This was the oddest confession I’d ever had. Finally, I heard him take a deep breath and imagined him having more questions. He didn’t ask any, however. Instead, he said,
“Bless you. Please go and say three Hail Mary’s and two Our Father’s and sin no more.” I wondered now if the shakiness in his voice was because he recognized my voice, as well.
He began to recite the Act of Contrition, and although I knew this drill very well, it took me a few seconds to jump in because I was still freaked out and trying to figure out what I should do.
I remembered back to the night I met the man in the bar. I had thought about how much I liked his voice. It was soft and gentle, but still masculine…like silk, almost. Just like this man’s voice—my new priest. I assured myself that the man I had sex with was not a priest and jumped in at, “I detest all of my sins because they offend thee…”
Even as I prayed, it was suddenly impossible to get the image of the gorgeous man that the voice had drummed up out of my head. I knelt at the altar and offered my penance, the entire time almost hoping the priest would step out of his side of the booth so that I could see his face. There was no way, no way at all…that would just be way too much for God to expect me to bear.
I finished my prayers and said one more, “Dear God in heaven, please let me be horribly mistaken about Father Jace.”
I left with my soul feeling somewhat lighter. Church always did that for me, no matter what the situation. But, I didn’t feel quite as light as I normally did after I confessed my sins. Something was different about it this time. I don’t know if it’s my own paranoia and concerns about his voice sounding so familiar or if this priest just wasn’t as warm and comforting as the ones I’ve known in the past.
This one seemed to be more concerned with whether or not I had told anyone than anything else…and that was just odd.