Part 35 (1/2)
”Yes. I don't know when a priest is free.”
”Now's a good time.”
”Well, that's good then,” she said. ”I guess.”
”Thank you for calling back.”
”I was raised well.”
Again he was slow in answering. ”You sound angry. Is that at me?”
”At you, at my mother. At my grandmother. At my husband. At my father-in-law.” She caught a breath. ”Should I go on?”
”That depends. Is there anyone left?”
Dana half smiled. ”I could be angry at my mother-in-law for behaving like a ditz with her husband sometimes, only she's come through for me in this.”
”Are you talking about the issue of the baby's race?”
”Mostly.” She couldn't see going into the rest. ”And my husband. He's getting better.”
”He seemed fine when he was here.”
”Like I say, he's getting better. I'm starting to feel like the problem is me. Not only with him but everyone.”
”Is the anger justified?”
She gave it a moment's thought. ”Well, I think so. Things happen, things you don't expect and you don't understand. So you either deny them, or lie about them, or try to make someone else responsible.” She grew plaintive. ”Why do people do that?”
”Because they're imperfect.”
”But don't they know that it hurts?”
”When they're thinking clearly, they do.”
”Well, every one of the people I listed has done something that I think was really selfish.”
”Done something that didn't consider your feelings?”
”Yes. That's...right.” She took a quick breath. ”Only now, I'm beginning to think that I'm the one who is selfish. Am I? Is it too much to ask that the people closest to me consider me when they make important decisions?”
”No. You have a right to expect that.”
”And when it doesn't happen, what do I do?”
”Talk to them. Explain what you're feeling. Hopefully, they'll act differently in the future, at least where you're concerned.”
His voice was soothing. ”Did they teach you this at the seminary?” she asked, and thought she heard a chuckle.
”No. Life taught me this.” His voice grew serious. ”Dana, I am far from perfect. The good Lord knows the mistakes I've made. You're a leading one-oh, not a mistake in the conception, but in what I did afterward. I should have tracked down your mother. I should have made sure she was all right. I'm sorry that I didn't. I was blinded by my own needs. I apologize to you now for that.”
Dana remained silent. She didn't know what to do with the apology. She felt as lost as she had when her mother had died.
”Life is full of should-haves,” Father Jack went on. ”Only they deal with the past. So we can dwell on them-dwell on the past-or we can move on. I want to move on.”
”You've learned to do it. Is it because of your faith?”
”It's mostly common sense. And I don't always succeed. For instance, I don't know how to handle the fact that I have a daughter.”
Dana's eyes filled. She drove on without speaking.
”I'd like to get to know you,” he said.
”I can't think about that now.”
”But you called me.”
She had. It was an interesting fact. She reasoned, ”You're a priest, and I need help. I'm behaving badly. It doesn't make me proud.”
”Acknowledging the problem is the first step. You've done that.”
”What's next?”
”Forgive yourself. It's what I said before, Dana. None of us is perfect.”
”And what then?”
”Try to get past it. When you're with someone who angers you, force yourself to find three good things about that person.”
A huge semi pa.s.sed Dana on the right. JESUS STEERS ME was painted on the b.u.mper in large letters. ”Is that from the Gospel?” she asked Father Jack.
There was a pause, then a quiet ”No. It's from me. I always told my children that. It seemed to help.”
Chapter 27.
Hugh was in his office on Monday, writing an appellate brief and feeling back on solid ground, when he got a frantic call from Crystal. Her voice was as hysterical as it had been that first day in the hospital garden.
”A guy came here and started asking questions about me and Jay. When I asked who he was, he said he was doing a routine investigation, so I asked again who he was, and he wouldn't say. When I told him I wouldn't talk with him, he said I'd be sorry if I didn't. So I asked for identification, and he just pointed a finger at me, like he was warning me, and walked back down the stairs. He knew my name, and he knew Jay's, and he knew where I worked. The senator sent him, I know it.”
Hugh pushed back from his computer. ”He's trying to intimidate you.”
”Yeah, well, he did. I mean, he was this big guy who could've kicked in my door without breakin' into a sweat. So what am I supposed to do now? Move? I can't afford an alarm, and anyway, it wouldn't help if he decides to burn down the house. That'd end my case against the senator.”
”He won't burn down the house, Crystal.”
”How do you know?”