Chapter Text
"What? She… She passed on? When?” John Pruitt's feet felt like they were nailed to the floor as he stared at Beverly. It had been just over nine hours since his return home after weeks of patiently waiting, planning and traveling.
“Oh, a little over a week ago now. She contracted a particularly virulent strain of the flu and passed away rather unexpectedly. Her daughter was devastated, but it was time for her to return to God. They laid her to rest in the graveyard next to the church six days ago. Another priest was sent over at my request to perform the mass, of course it took a couple of days for him to get here. It would’ve been too long to wait for the Monsignor to return.”
She’s been in the ground almost a whole week and I had no idea.
A high-pitched ringing had begun in John’s ears as a chasm of pain opened in his stomach.
I was coming back. I was supposed to save her from this. We were going to have our second chance. Oh, Millie…
His thoughts raced impossibly fast. Beverly continued to drone on, something about the priest that performed Millie’s last rites and what a shame it was about Sarah.
Sarah.
“Sarah. Is she all right?” the priest asked, an edge that Beverly didn’t understand in his voice.
“As alright as you can be I guess. I haven’t seen her since the funeral; she’s not a member of the congregation.” Beverly sniffed haughtily.
I had forgotten what a cruel woman you could be, Beverly Keane.
He turned away from Beverly and walked towards the kitchen as tears welled in his eyes. He would not be able to cover his pain with the mask of a concerned stranger for much longer. “I’m afraid my journey has worn me out more than I expected. I'll make sure to stop by and check in on Sarah tomorrow. Offer my condolences. Thank you for bringing me up to speed, Ms. Keane.” He leaned heavily on the sink, trying to regulate his breathing as spots formed in his vision.
“Certainly Father, now I would like to go over the – are you alright?”
He stifled a cry and shook his head, afraid to turn around. “I’m afraid jet lag is catching up with me. I received this assignment in a bit of a rush, haven’t had time to stop and eat or rest much over the last few days. Can we discuss this in the morning?”
“Of course. I was thrown for a bit of a loop myself when you told me Monsignor Pruitt would not be returning. I can fetch you something from the restaurant on the island if you’re hungry, I don’t think there’s much in the–”
“It’s quite alright. I’ll manage. Goodnight, Ms. Keane, and I will see you in the morning.” He nodded to her over his shoulder.
Beverly nodded, completely out of her element with a priest that clearly did not need or want her nearby. She hurried from the rectory, wondering the whole way home what she had done to offend him.
John listened to her footsteps recede, and when he could no longer hear them, the floodgates of his grief opened wide.
Gone. You’re gone. Why?
“Millie, oh… I was coming back, I was coming back for you, for us–” he pleaded, sinking to his knees. Sobs wracked his body, tears streaming down his face as he knelt on the kitchen floor. He felt utterly alone, adrift in a sea of pain and darkness.
Why did the Angel come to me if not to bring this gift back to you, my most beloved friend?
At the time John was introducing himself to Beverly as Paul Hill, Kate hoisted herself onto a stool and began to sort out the contents of a bus tub that was full of old beer taps and handles. This was not what she had in mind for her fresh start in Crockett, but she wasn’t going to complain. Cleaning wasn’t her favorite thing to do, especially when more cleaning and sorting waited for her at home.
At least this pays
Newsome’s Tavern had been a part of Crockett for decades, but like everything else on the island, it had taken a hit. Between the recession, subsequent lack of tourism, and the oil spill, there wasn’t much business to be had. When Kate inquired about work on her third day in Crockett, she got the feeling the owners had given her the job out of pity more than anything.
“Right now we just don’t have the business to warrant hiring anyone,” the owner, Mr. Newsome had said gruffly. As he returned his attention to the till, Mrs. Newsome came out of the kitchen with a bus tub full of clean glassware to stack on the shelves behind the bar. She looked Kate up and down, a glint of recognition in her eye as her gaze landed on Kate’s face.
“Katie Owens, Eleanor Sullivan’s niece, right? Jim, hire the girl. She’s taking over her aunt’s cabin. We can use the help, and I’m sure she could use the pocket money.” Jim had only grunted. His wife, Gail, ignored him in the way only longtime married couples could.
“Now, we can’t officially hire you,” Gail nodded as she looked at Kate over her glasses, “and we can’t work you more than three days a week, if that. Crockett’s still recovering, you know. But we can pay out cash weekly, and we’ll let you keep your tips.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Newsome. I don’t need much... I’m still doing a lot of back-and-forth with Aunt Eleanor’s estate, working just a few days a week will suit me fine.” Kate said, trying to drown the southern twang in her voice with a smile. She wasn’t certain that she was going to stay in Crockett. The island had a lot of charm, but the idea of moving to such an isolated place thrilled and scared her in equal measure.
The chime of the bell over the door brought Kate out of her reverie and she slid down off the stool. “Hi, welcome in, what can I get you?” She asked brightly.
“Oh hi. I’m looking for Mrs. Newsome. I’m Sarah, she might be expecting me.”
“Hi I’m Kate.” She smiled and offered her hand to the tall, slender woman. “Mrs. Newsome just ran home for a bit, but she’ll be back soon. If you want to wait, I’d be happy to get you a drink.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Kate,” Sarah shook Kate’s hand warmly, “I’ll just take some water. Gail was going to give me some liquor and produce boxes.”
“Sounds good!” Kate’s smile faltered slightly as she turned away from Sarah to walk back around the bar. In the handshake she had felt a heavy weight of grief running through the woman, along with a gritty determination.
“So, you must be new to Crockett. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around.” Sarah said as she slid into a bar stool.
“Yes ma’am, just about two weeks now. The Newsome’s have been kind enough to hire me while I take care of some family business. My aunt owned a cabin up on the west side.” Kate said as she set the water on top of a coaster.
“Ah, I bet you’re Eleanor Sullivan’s niece,” Sarah smiled.
Kate nodded with a shy smile, still not used to strangers knowing her so easily.
“Mrs. Newsome mentioned that Ms. Sullivan passed away about three months ago, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. She wanted to get back here at least one more time, but it just wasn’t in the cards. She really loved this island.” Kate looked out the large bay window of the restaurant at the dusky sunset. “I was really surprised to find out she’d left it to me. I came here a lot as a kid, in the summer with my mom, and I helped care for her after she moved back to Texas, but I thought she’d sold the place.”
“It’s really hard for some people to leave Crockett, especially the older generation. It seems to almost trap you, the longer you stay…” Sarah made a clawing motion with one hand, “really sinks its claws into you.”
Mrs. Newsome returned right as Kate was getting up the courage to ask Sarah about herself, and she smiled as she watched the elderly woman fuss over Sarah and ask if she’d eaten. When she said she had, and that she was just here to pick up the boxes, Gail nodded and patted Sarah’s forearms.
“Yes, yes, I’ve got some in the back. Why don’t you come around the side door? They’re closer there. Oh, Katie dear, would you mind helping Sarah with these boxes? She doesn’t live too far, but I am sure she could use the help.” Sarah started to object and Mrs. Newsome waved her off. “No, no, let her help, it’s not like we’re swimming in business here.” Sarah gave Kate an apologetic look as Mrs. Newsome made her way around the bar and Kate shook her head good-naturedly, sweeping the clutter she had been sorting from the end of the bar and back into the tub.
“I’ll be right behind you, ma’am.” Kate said as Gail pushed through the swinging door and into the kitchen.
“You really don’t have to, I’ll be able to manage.” Sarah said conspiratorially.
“I’m sure you can, but she’s the boss.” Kate laughed, walking towards the swing door. “I could use a break anyways. I’ll meet you around the side.”
John stared up at the ceiling of the rectory blankly. He had dealt with grief many times in his life, the first when his sister passed away. Then, the pain had been new and sharp on his young soul. Truthfully it was running from that pain that had driven him to the priesthood and he wondered, not for the first time, if it had been the right decision. His parents had found such comfort in the word of God. The priests he had known growing up did not offer comfort to him, they were hard men from hard times, but the word of God they shared provided solace. And so he dove headfirst into the Bible, hoping that a sea of scripture would put out the fires of grief that consumed his heart.
Both of his parents had lived long lives. He scoffed at the thought. Though his body no longer showed it, he had outlived the ages of both of his parents, and now he thought he would live longer still.
And for what?
He was in the seminary when his father passed, and had just begun to take over the congregation on Crockett Island when his mother died. Each time was like reopening a wound, even though his parents’ deaths were expected.
Slowly, he sat up, his head throbbing. He had only partially lied to Beverly. He had been in such a rush to get to Crockett that he had neglected to eat, that much was true. Now, however, he knew he must try to eat and drink, even though the idea of making food was almost beyond him. He considered allowing himself to continue the fast, a penance for not returning in time, but a nagging feeling told him neither God nor Mildred would approve of such punishment. He also wanted to visit Sarah tomorrow morning and check on her, something he would not be able to do a good job of if he didn’t eat at least a little.
The rectory did not have anything to eat, as Beverly had tried to warn him. His search had produced an almost empty tub of butter in the fridge, and some stale water crackers forgotten in the back of the pantry. He chewed a stale cracker as he forced himself to think of what to do next. Night had fallen on Crockett and he was no longer sure how late the restaurant or the general store stayed open, as previously Beverly wouldn’t allow him to visit either unaccompanied. At least, he thought he remembered that. Despite his body and mind being restored, the memories he had formed as the dementia wormed its way through his brain were still cloudy.
John made it halfway up the steps to the general store before realizing it was closed. Except for a few ancillary lights towards the back, he was only able to see in the store by the light of a street lamp. A clock on the wall behind the cash register told him it was just past 9:30, meaning he had lost roughly two hours between his conversation with Beverly and subsequent breakdown. His stomach rumbled and he realized it was quite possible that he had not eaten in 24 hours. The Tavern was probably closed. He would most likely be eating buttered water crackers for dinner, and he frowned at the thought. Deciding it was worth checking out, he descended the steps and started up the lane toward the Tavern.
Earlier in the evening Kate and Sarah had walked down the same lane, both carrying a modest amount of liquor and food boxes that Mrs. Newsome had loaded them up with.
“I told you, she’s the boss.” Kate said with a laugh once they were far enough up the road to be out of earshot of Mrs. Newsome, who had given Sarah a very motherly scolding when she insisted that she could carry all the boxes home herself.
Sarah had laughed too, grateful for the help and the company. The women had chatted idly about the weather at first, Kate wasn’t used to the cold and wet of a coastal Maine February.
“I’m leaving Crockett.” Sarah blurted out, feeling embarrassed by the confession of the obvious when they reached her house.
“Oh? Here I was thinking you just had a thing for cardboard.” Kate said, grinning as the joke drew a genuine laugh from Sarah. “We’ll keep saving them for you. I’ve also got some at my aunt’s cabin, I can bring them over.”
“I am sure I will use them. I’m packing up my things and my mother’s, now that she’s passed.” She began taking the boxes Kate held and stacking them in the front hall, her face tight.
“I can bring over my stash on Monday, if you’re not busy?”
“That would be great. I have a patient at nine Monday morning, but if you want to stop by after eleven, I’ll be here.”
“Sure!” Kate said, mentally piecing another part of the puzzle that was Sarah together. “Say around noon?”
Sarah nodded, as she stepped back out onto the porch. Evening had turned to dusk and the early spring air was now visible on her breath. “Thank you again for all of your help, Kate. I greatly appreciate it.” A movement over Kate’s shoulder caught her eye, and she looked skeptical. “Now where’s she off to in such a hurry…”
Kate turned to see a woman in a long dark skirt and dress shirt marching up the lane purposefully. “Who’s that?”
“Beverly Keane. She works at St. Patrick’s, and for the school, but she handles the money and, well, basically everything else at the church now that Monsignor Pruitt is approaching retirement. Actually, the Monsignor was supposed to return from his trip to Jerusalem today. I wonder what’s got her so upset.” She said softly, watching Beverly’s braid swing with the fierceness of her steps.
“Hmm… There was a priest on the Belle today,” Kate mused, “He had his nose in his Bible the whole time, but he seemed young to be a Monsignor. In his forties I’d say, and handsome, ooh...” Kate clicked her tongue and turned to see Sarah looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “I’m still waiting on some of my personal things to come in the mail, I try to meet the Belle or Breeze when I can to see what’s made it over. And, well, I’m not blind.”
Sarah huffed a laugh. “Well who knows. Maybe St. Patrick’s is getting a new priest,” she shrugged, “that doesn’t matter much to me.”
“Me neither. I’m just hoping it’ll take some of the heat off of me,” Kate rubbed the back of her neck, “I like meetin’ new people, but it does feel a bit like being put under a microscope.”
“I’m sure it does. New faces are just so rare in Crockett these days. But I hope it helps. So many people on this island are Catholic, lapsed or otherwise, that it will surely be the newest source of gossip before long.” Sarah said, turning toward her door. “If you have time when you drop the boxes off, would you like to stay for lunch? I have more food than I could possibly eat, since…” she trailed off, gesturing vaguely.
“I would love that! Here…” Kate quickly wrote her phone number down on a page from a small memo pad she pulled from her jacket pocket. “Call or text, let me know if you need anything. Or if you need to cancel.”
“I’ll text you so you have my number, and the same goes for you.”
Halfway back to the Tavern, Kate felt her phone buzz and smiled as she saw a message from an unsaved number that read “Sarah Gunning :)”.
The smell of cooking wafted towards John as he neared the restaurant and he silently thanked God for whoever was in the kitchen. He took the stairs up to the front door two at a time, tempering his excitement just in time to open the glass front door.
The restaurant was warm and inviting, easily allowing him to shake off the chill of the night. He looked around and saw a familiar man and a teenager sitting at a table in the corner, though their names escaped him. The man sat with his back to the wall and looked up quickly as John walked into the restaurant. His eyes briefly rested on the Father’s collar and black dress shirt. Standing slowly and wiping his hands on a napkin, he walked over to where John stood. The man wore a blue button down rolled up at the sleeves, tucked smartly into jeans. A well-kept beard adorned his face, and though he looked suspiciously at John for a brief moment, he had kind eyes. “Evening, Father. The waitress, Kate, is in the back but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you sat yourself. I’m Hassan, Crockett’s Sheriff.” He said, offering his hand.
“Sheriff, it’s nice to meet you, Paul Hill.” He shook the Sheriff’s hand with a warm smile. “I’m filling in for Monsignor Pruitt.” John felt the lies roll off his tongue much more easily than they had with Beverly. “The Monsignor fell ill on his trip back from the Holy Land, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is he going to be alright?” Hassan asked. John remembered him more clearly now and knew he was asking out of courtesy, but he still felt a pang of guilt at having to lie.
“He’s on the mend. Just needed some time to recover at a hospital on the mainland. The doctors felt that returning too soon would do him more harm than good. I’m just here until he gets back on his feet. He wanted me to give his best to everyone on the island. Told me that Crockett was in good hands with you.”
“Really?” Hassan said with an arch of an eyebrow. “Well, that’s very kind of him to say. Ali, my son, and I aren’t parishioners but we’ve met Monsignor Pruitt here a few times. We have a standing tradition to eat at the Tavern on Saturday evenings and catch up.” Hassan said, motioning over to Ali, a shy wave coming from the teen who had been munching on a dinner roll. “It’s not always the most exciting, but I’m glad he still indulges me.”
John smiled and waved back at Ali. “A good tradition to have, certainly. I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Thank you. Welcome to Crockett, Father Hill.” Hassan nodded before returning to his table. As he did, Kate emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray with two platters of food.
“All right y’all, two plates of – Oh! Hello, ah, Father.” She said, noting his collar with a slight bow of her head. “Please, sit wherever you’d like. I’ll be right with you.” John nodded back, taking a seat at the bar. “Okay, two orders of fried cod and french fries, fresh out of the fryer.” She set the plates down in front of Ali and Hassan, producing two rolls of silverware and a bottle of ketchup from the pocket of her apron.
The priest watched this in a small mirror that hung behind the bar, the fading whiskey logo slightly obscuring his view. His memory had been dodgy before his encounter on the road to Damascus, but he felt certain that he had never met this waitress before. She was on the taller side for a woman, with long curly hair that was up in a bun. A few corkscrew curls framed her round face. Her hair was somewhere between brown and red, and she was wearing a black shirt and pants, a red calico apron tied around her waist. As he watched her talk with Ali, she looked up and directly met his eyes in the reflection, catching him off guard with a smile and a wink. It wasn’t a flirtation, more of an acknowledgment that she had not forgotten him, but John could not help but feel he had been caught spying and he quickly looked out the large front window, the tips of his ears growing warm.
Only a minute or two more passed before she came back to the bar. “Okay Padre, my name is Kate, what can I get started for you?” She asked brightly as she prepared a glass of ice water.
“Food, please, if the kitchen isn’t closed.” He covered his abdomen as his stomach gave a loud growl, laughing softly to cover his embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I haven’t had the chance to eat today and I am absolutely famished.”
“I can certainly get you something. Here’s a food menu—” She laid down a laminated paper in front of him along with the water, “you just let me know when you’re ready. D’you want anything besides the water to drink?”
“No, thank you, if I had anything stronger than water right now I would fall right over.” John said, raising his eyebrows as he looked at the menu. Kate laughed and nodded, leaving him to muse over his choices.
She’s definitely new... Padre?
He thought briefly of the spaghetti westerns he watched with his father as a child before his thoughts became completely consumed by food.
It only took him a few minutes to decide to order the fried cod as well, and was going to ask about an appetizer when Kate came out of the back, a basket of dinner rolls in hand. His mouth began to water involuntarily as she set them down next to his now empty water glass. “It’s just me here tonight, so I’m afraid the food'll be a bit slow, but these oughta tide you over. What’ll you have?” She asked as she refilled his water.
“I’ll have what the Sheriff is having. And some tartar sauce, if you’ve got it.” John said, eagerly grabbing for a roll and biting into it. He’d had the dinner rolls at The Tavern plenty of times, but now he savored every morsel, his eyes closing in concentration. “Mm, you may have just saved my life.”
“Happy to help. I’ll get the fries and fish started. Holler if you need anything else. You boys all right over there?” She asked, getting a thumbs up from Ali and Hassan before disappearing into the kitchen.
He made quick work of the rolls, slathering a couple with the tiny butter packets they came with and found himself staring out at the dark street, trying to keep his mind off of Mildred when Kate returned from the kitchen with a large platter of food.
“Alrighty Father," she announced, "this is all you. I’ll grab a bottle of tartar sauce while you say grace.” She gave him another wink and John smiled politely before he bowed his head in prayer, and found the cold bottle waiting next to his plate when he opened his eyes.
She popped her head out of the kitchen a few moments later and asked, “everything look okay?”
John nodded and gave a thumbs up, his mouth full of fish. “Delicious. Best fish I’ve ever had.” He said after swallowing hurriedly. Kate grinned and nodded before taking Hassan his check. John overheard her teasing Ali about not picking up the tab this time, and smiled to himself when the three laughed at Ali’s retort.
He wanted to dive into the plate and forget his manners entirely, but he forced himself to eat slowly and purposefully. Still, the food was more than halfway gone when the Sheriff and his son made their way to the door a few minutes later. “Have a good night, Father Hill. And Kate, call me if he gives you any trouble.” Hassan said, pointing a warning finger at the priest before smiling.
“Good night, Sheriff, Ali. Nice meeting you.” John said with a nod and a smile. Kate laughed and promised that she could take care of herself.
“Ali—” She called just before the young man left, “Knock ‘em dead Monday. You’ve got that presentation in the bag, kiddo.” Ali nodded shyly, but with the same wide smile as his father.
“How is everything, Father?” She turned her attention fully on John for the first time since he had come in. Shit, she thought, he’s even more handsome up close.
“Delicious, truly, thank you. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. And you did the fish? It’s different from what I normally get-- ah, this far north.” He stumbled, remembering that Paul Hill had never eaten here before.
“Yes sir, battered and fried them myself. The batter is a family recipe, and we’re all from Texas and Louisiana. Different flavor profile than what you typically get up in these waters.” She said with a smile. “Mrs. Newsome said I could experiment with the recipes on the menu as long as the customers don’t complain. I’m hoping to try hush puppies next week, if I can get the cornmeal for ‘em.”
“You won’t hear any complaints from me.” John said as he went for another bite of fish. Kate cleaned up the corner table and closed up the dining area as John finished eating.
“Okay, on to the Q and A portion of the evening,” Kate said after she had cleared the priest's empty plate into a bus tub with the rest of the night's dishes. “First and foremost, what’s your name? Or is it just Father?” She asked with an impish smirk.
John felt his heart rate pick up. It was an innocent question, but her gaze was sharp and he felt that she was able to see right through to his bones. “Paul Hill,” He said, sitting up straighter and extending his hand. “I’m helping at St. Patrick’s until the Monsignor returns.”
Kate shook his hand and resisted the urge to frown. The Father had a similar heaviness about him that Sarah had, as well as a nervous energy that thrummed through him like electricity.
He’s new, of course he’s nervous.
Still, she didn’t think that completely fit the feeling. “Father Hill, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Kate Owens, also new to Crockett. My aunt left her cabin to me and I’m here to get it sorted out.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Kate. Where are you from originally?”
“Texas, but I spent a lot of summers out here on the island when I was young. What about you?”
“Maine, originally, though my work takes me all over.” This was partly true, he had been born in Maine but his parents had moved to Crockett just after his sister’s death. “You said your aunt left you her cabin?”
“Yep, my mom’s sister moved to Crockett in the ‘80’s. She was an artist, did a lot of her work at the cabin and sold the artwork to tourists here on the island and at markets on the mainland. Mostly paintings of the sea and shore, but both her and my mom worked with clay, too. Part of why I’m here is to sort through everything and get things goin’ where they need to. She wasn’t famous, but she did all right for herself and left some of her work to some places along the coast. I’m not sure why she didn’t have the foresight to hire someone to send it all off, but it’s all in writing at least.” Kate said, blushing slightly. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I am grateful she felt that I was the right person to handle it.”
“Mm, it’s understandable to feel overwhelmed by a task like that.” John said, nodding in encouragement for her to continue. He had crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, listening intently. She felt the blush creep up her neck when she met his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration. For the first time she felt like someone on Crockett was actively listening to her.
“It is. Overwhelming, I mean.” Kate nodded as she picked at a fraying bar towel in her hands. “She was very influential to me, though, and I feel like doing this for her is a good way to honor our relationship. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her guidance. My mother died when I was young, and Aunt Eleanor stepped in and helped me through.” She paused, looking out at the darkness through the window. She was not the type to bare her soul to strangers, and couldn’t remember the last time she had a meaningful conversation with a priest. She shook her head, suddenly very self-conscious. “Anyways, you said you were here temporarily, taking over the church?”
“Ah, yeah. Monsignor Pruitt got sick on a trip back from Jerusalem and the doctors insisted that he recover fully before coming back to Crockett. So the diocese sent me to help out.”
“That’s very kind of you, I’m sure the congregation will be happy to have someone to say mass.”
“I hope so. I’ll find out tomorrow, I guess.” He said, a small smile on his face.
“Right! Let me get you your check—” Kate reached into her apron for her order pad.
“Ah, thank you… I was just going to ask if I would see you there?” John asked, surprised at the hopefulness he felt and the reluctance to leave the restaurant. He felt his grief waiting for him just inside the rectory door, ready to spring on him like a monster. He was also intrigued by this waitress, so new to the island, still full of the world beyond its shores.
“Oh,” Kate deflated a little as she wrote up the check, scribbling it down a few dollars less than what the menu stated. She felt certain Mrs. Newsome would want her to give the new priest a discount, the Newsome’s being avid Churchgoers. “I am working here tomorrow, actually, and, ah…”
“And it’s been awhile?” He finished for her, the small, shy smile back again as he leaned to grab his wallet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I went to mass when I was younger, but was actually never confirmed, to be honest with you…” She trailed off, unsure how to explain herself.
“Consider it an open invitation. You’ll always be welcome, Kate Owens.” John said dutifully. He truly wished to see at least one friendly face tomorrow, now that his congregation was sure to treat him with some skepticism. It was not going to be an easy task to lie to them, but he would do it. At least until he figured out what to do next.
Kate nodded and handed him the check, considering telling him just exactly why she felt she could not attend mass, even if she wanted to. “Thank you,” she said instead, “I’m sure they’re gonna love you.”
“Here’s hoping.” John chuckled as he returned the check with cash, insisting that he did not need any change. “Well, Miss Owens, it is quite late and I don’t want to keep you past closing time. Do you have someone to walk you home?”
Kate glanced at her phone for the time and was shocked to see it was almost eleven. She hadn’t told John that they normally closed up at ten on Saturdays when it was slow, and it always was. “Ah, no, but that’s okay. I don’t think there’s anything on Crockett that is out to get me.”
John looked out into the darkness. “You’re right, but I would like to at least accompany you part of the way, if that’s all right.”
Kate stared at him for a moment as she tried to read his intentions and John felt as if he was being sized up, though what for escaped him. “That’s very kind of you, but I still have closing duties to get done, and you have a big day tomorrow.”
John stood then and nodded thoughtfully, unbuttoning the wrists of his black dress shirt and rolling up the sleeves. “Well, many hands make light work, don’t they? I can help with the dishes since you under-charged me for the meal,” Kate gave an embarrassed smile, “and to make up for keeping you so late.”
Kate laughed and shook her head. “You’re really pushing for brownie points, aren’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” his face was the picture of innocence as he walked behind the bar and picked up the bus tub full of dishes, “I wasn’t in the brownie scouts.” He smiled as she laughed.
She gestured for him to follow as she walked through the swing door to the kitchen. “Well if you insist, I won’t turn away help.”
He followed her with the dishes, telling himself he was only staying for the distraction.
Kate was impressed with the Father’s expediency, closing did go faster with a second set of hands. They swapped stories about working in kitchens as they cleaned, he in the seminary and her putting herself through school. Before long they stood outside the side door, the restaurant now dark and locked.
“I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you with the boss lady.” Kate said as the bolt of the lock slid home. Crockett was probably the safest place she had ever walked in the dark, but out of habit Kate tightened the straps on her backpack and threaded her keys through her fingers. John watched silently with interest and a little confusion.
“May I walk you home?” He asked, hands in his pockets. His eyebrows tilted up hopefully, dark eyes glittering.
“Really, Padre, I think I’ll be okay. Besides, it’s probably out of your way. I’m on the west side.” Kate said, gesturing away from the direction of the church and rectory.
“I don’t mind. To be honest with you, I’m avoiding sleep. I’m not very good at it when I’m in a new place, and I am a little nervous about tomorrow.” He smiled.
Kate returned the smile awkwardly as she kicked at a half-buried stone.
“Oh! I-I don’t mean to, uh, and actually I can start walking back now---” John was suddenly aware of how he must look to her; a strange man insisting he walk home with a woman he barely knew. “Oh, dear,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “It didn’t occur to me until just now how unsettling this could be. I’m sorry.”
Kate grinned at that, shaking her head. “No, no. I’m not worried about that, Father,” she bit at her bottom lip, thinking of what to say next. “It’s not that I’m scared of you, I’m not,” she giggled as John visibly relaxed, “I just… I don’t want to waste your time, is all.”
John laughed softly. “Oh? Oh! No, no, you won’t be wasting my time. I promise. I did not have plans to evangelize. We can talk about anything but religion, whatever you like.” He placed a hand over his heart in a promising gesture, hoping she wouldn’t leave him in the dark just yet.
Kate stuck her hands into the pockets of her oversized jacket, which was covered in patches and studs, and nodded. “Well, alright then. If you really mean it.”
“I do.”
“Then let’s go, Padre. It’s this way.”