An ordinary person reading that text would have thought, “Oh, how sweet! Her boyfriend stopped to pick up the old man’s toothbrush, a change of underwear, and maybe some pajamas and slippers and the priest’s latest copy of Catholic News.”
No. No way. Knowing my boyfriend, I suspect the things Jesse probably stopped to retrieve were the good father’s Bible, crucifix, rosary, Virgin Mary medal, and holy water and sacramental wafers pilfered from the tabernacle on the altar inside the church.
Because those are the things you needed to perform a good, old-fashioned exorcism.
Great. Just great. While I completely agreed that no spirit should be allowed to attack a sweet, innocent old man like Father Dominic, who’d only meant to help her, that didn’t mean I thought her soul should be cast into eternal damnation, especially now that I’d learned some of the details about Lucia’s death from Father Dominic—and even more from her obituary, which CeeCee had managed to find and send to me earlier that afternoon.
I was wondering what to text back—I can’t believe you’d steal holy bread and wine from a church, but you won’t have sex with me didn’t seem right somehow—when suddenly a new message popped up on my screen. I was assuming it was from Jesse until I clicked on it.
El Diablo What did you think of the flowers?
NOV 17 5:05 PM
Really? Was he kidding me? He really was the devil.
I was stabbing at my phone to delete all trace of him when something awful occurred to me, something that chilled me even more than Paul’s text or the thought of my fiancé exorcising a baby banshee:
Jesse had been by my office to look for me. That meant he’d seen the flowers on my desk.
Damn!
And what had I done with the card Paul had written to me? With everything that had happened, I couldn’t remember.
I was so screwed.
“Susannah?”
I started at the sound of the voice coming from behind me. Peggy had returned with a nurse I recognized from the many times Jake and I had dropped by to visit Jesse when he was working in the ER. The nurse recognized me, too, but fortunately not as the stepsister of the long-haired dude who liked to prank the hospital’s volunteers by asking them gravely to please page, “Dr. Butt. Dr. Chafe Butt” (it was shocking how often they fell for this).
“Susannah, I thought that was you,” Sherry said with a smile. “Peggy told me there was a crazy woman out here who was threatening to infect the maternity ward with measles. But then I saw who it was.”
“Hi, Sherry.” I almost melted with relief. “Yes, it’s me. Sorry about the theatrics. They brought my boss in here a little while ago, Father Dominic from the Junípero Serra Mission Academy?”
She stopped smiling, which was never a good sign. “Yes, of course.”
“Um, he’s okay, right? I really need to get upstairs to see him, the sooner the better.”
“Of course.” Sherry used that soothing tone that nurses employ to make you feel better, even though you suspect they don’t really believe a word you’ve said. You don’t drink more than three alcoholic beverages a week? Riiiiight. “Peggy, this is Susannah Simon, she’s engaged to Dr. de Silva.”
I saw Peggy give me a quick look, as if she was appraising me in a whole new light.
“Oh,” Peggy said. “Really?”
It was evident from her flat tone that she disapproved.
I wasn’t surprised. Jesse was extremely popular with the mostly female nursing staff (and some of the males, as well) because he was not only easy on the eyes, but also charming, good-humored, and occasionally brought cookies for everyone in the staff room.
Cookies I’d made, thinking it wouldn’t hurt for him to get into the good graces of the staff.
I thought about grabbing Peggy by her copious red hair and smashing her face into her computer screen, but only briefly. I’d never have done it. Probably.
Instead I said, “It’s really nice to meet you, Peggy. Sorry if I seemed, um, abrupt before. I’m just really concerned about my boss.”
“No worries,” Peggy said. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Everyone here really likes Dr. de Silva, even our older patients. They always start out complaining he’s too young to be a doctor, but then they look into his eyes. After that, they shut up about it.” She laughed. “They say he has an ‘old soul,’ whatever that means.”
I flashed her a brittle smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before about him. So can I go see Father Dominic now, Sherry?”
“Of course, but I’m afraid he won’t be very talkative. Dr. Patel is keeping him heavily sedated to help make him more comfortable.”
“Wait.” I gaped at the nurse. “Is he . . . is Father Dominic going to die?”
catorce
It felt like the bottom was dropping out of my world. Why hadn’t I hugged Father Dominic good-bye when he’d left? Why had I let him leave in the first place?