“Stop that! Don’t be vulgar! We’re not going to have it out on Thanksgiving in the driveway with the boys and my family inside!”

“I did everything I could,” she whimpered.

“Beau, I have to leave,” Lauren said. “This isn’t for me to see...”

“Beau, please, send her away. Please talk to me,” Pam said.

“Jesus Christ, Pam, no more drama! There’s nothing more to talk about! I’m done!”

“Send her away and talk to me, please...”

“Beau, talk to her,” Lauren said. “I’m getting out of here.”

Lauren took off at a brisk semi-jog, heading down the block to her car.

“Shit,” she heard him say behind her. “Pamela, don’t you dare go near that front door. Stay right here!” He ran up behind Lauren. “Lauren, you go home and I’ll call before I—”

The door to the house slammed. “Oh God! Just shoot me now!” He turned and jogged back to the house.

Lauren sped home. She put her car in the drive, let herself in the house, locked the door and cried. For about a hundred reasons.

Is that what his wife thought? That they hooked up before he was free. Did he tell her the truth? About the many separations, that she’d left him six months before they met? Was she there to get his sons and family to put pressure on him to save his marriage? Is this how it would be, ex-spouses constantly drumming up trouble? Would people think they’d strayed on their spouses and that’s what caused their divorces? Would she turn the boys against her?

The day had been so perfect, so positive. And was coming to a close with a very nasty twist.

* * *

Pamela was already in the living room, putting on a real show, by the time Beau got back in the house. It was like theater in the round—the boys, his family, his mother, all sitting around or standing, speechless while Pamela sobbed that she would do anything to save her marriage, that she didn’t know Beau was cheating on her, she never suspected, that even her sons had betrayed and turned against her, that she wanted to come home, live in her house again, be the wife and mother...

Beau looked around the room. His mother was twisting her hands and had a pained expression on her face, Michael’s eyes were pinched and he also looked as if he might be in pain. But everyone else looked disgusted and bored. Of course. They’d seen her in action before. Many times. They’d been to Beau’s house during those times Pamela was on sabbatical and witnessed for themselves that the closets were stripped bare of her things. His mother had no idea what was happening on Facebook but the boys and his siblings did. They all saw pictures of her dancing, sunning herself on sandy beaches, doing shots, grinning over the tops of martini glasses, relaxing and enjoying life. The party girl.

“Pamela, you have to leave now,” Beau said. “Boys, would one of you see that your mother gets safely to her car?”

“All I want is a little of your time! We’ve been together for so long! Are you going to throw it all away for your cheap side chick?”

“Mom!” Michael said, rising to his feet. He threw a forlorn look at Beau’s mother, his step-grandma. Oh God, they had to be as embarrassed by her volatile behavior as he was.

“Come on, Mike,” Drew said. “Let’s get her to her car.”

One of them on each side, her sons escorted her out the front door.

Beau was left to look at most of his family. He faced a room of such oppressive silence, his ears rang. He met each pair of eyes. His mother was shaken, his brother’s pregnant daughter-in-law looked horrified, his sister Jeanette looked like she was contemplating murder.

“Well,” his mother said. “Lauren seems very nice. Shall we be sure this time?” she asked.

The room was filled with laughter.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Father Tim spent Thanksgiving evening serving dinner at the mission in downtown Oakland. He usually presided over mass on this holiday. Instead he was with Angela and her friends. They had nearly finished cleaning up the kitchen, saving some meals in the warmer for latecomers, but the rush was over.

He’d been talking to Angela a great deal since he’d brought her his last crop before Thanksgiving. He wanted to tell her what he was doing, that he was re-entering the secular life. That led to other discussions, including how he felt about her. And to his thrilled surprise, she returned his feelings. She admitted to being fond of him. He had spent every spare minute with her since.

“How was it to miss mass?” she asked him, wiping her hands on a towel.

“I’m sure Father Damien did fine.”

“Are you going to call him and check?” she asked.

He shook his head. “He’ll call me if there’s anything to report.”

“So, you’re still determined, are you?”

He nodded. “I’ve been sure for at least a year. I’ll be explaining my departure to the board right after Christmas. They won’t be surprised that I’m leaving—just the reason why. They’ve been expecting me to move to the diocese to work for the bishop. But I’ll be around until I find my next job. There will be parishioners with questions. Maybe concerns.”

“What will you tell them?” she asked.

“The same thing I told you. I’m not leaving God’s work or the faith or the church. I’m resigning from the priesthood, that’s all. And I was wondering if you had a date for New Year’s Eve?”

“Father!”

“Stop calling me that,” he said, laughing. “Am I too old for you?”

She blushed.

“To see you blush is quite a beautiful sight,” he said. He reached for her hand. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that... You haven’t dated anyone in over twenty years. I don’t think I want to be your experiment. You’ll end up breaking my heart. You know how much I like you.”

He looked around, then he kissed her forehead. “I bet if there’s any heartbreaking going on, you’ll be doing it.”

“You’re not quite free...”

“Yes, I am,” he said. “I stopped celebrating mass, communion or hearing confession a while ago. I can still assist Father Damien if he needs me but he doesn’t need me.” He chuckled. “It’s all he can do to keep from grinning like a fool. His secret is he’s happy to have me out of his way.”

“Aren’t you close?” she asked.

“I like him,” Tim said. “He’s a good man. We’re driven by different things.” He held her coat for her to slip into. “It’s cold and wet. Let’s go find a quiet bar with a fireplace. I want to tell you about my applications.”

Her face lit up. “You did it? You applied for the international rescue mission?”

“Yes, I’m going to follow you around the globe. And I heard about some other groups I think we should look into. I’d love to talk about it. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee or glass of wine.”

“On Thanksgiving? Where?”

“I know a place close by, on the island. Just a little pub.”

“Listen, don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t think I want to be seen dating a priest...”

He laughed. “I’ll only hold your hand under the table.”

“I should never have told you I was attracted to you! You started it. Coming clean with me about your silly crush on me. Now look what we’ve got! I’m not exactly a virgin.”

“Me neither,” he said.

She gasped. “Father!”

He rolled his eyes. “Could you call me Tim, please? You inspire guilt where there is none. There were quite a few years before I took the vows, Angela. I admit, I examined my secular options.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “This is going to be a disaster,” she said.

“Just follow me to the bar. It’s very nice and I’ll protect you from all the sad people who have no place else to go. We can talk about this disaster in peace.”

She agreed and twenty minutes later they were tucked into a corner booth near a brick fireplace. Angela sipped red wine while Tim enjoyed a beer.

“What makes you think we have anything in common?” she asked him.

“We have everything in common. We’re drawn to the same kind of work, we share a need to rescue the disenfranchised, we’re the same faith, we’re looking for the same things and you turn me on.”

“Oh God,” she said, resting her head in her hand. “It is so hard to hear that from someone I have known as a priest.”

“Get this—you turned me on while I was a priest. I just wouldn’t act on that feeling. I had an oath. Now I don’t.”

“You hung up the collar for sex, didn’t you?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “But that is likely to be a benefit.”

“Well, it’s not going to be me! Not until I know you a lot better!”

He touched her hand. “I’m not going to pressure you, Angela. I like you. I can’t wait to spend more time with you. If it works, I think that would make me very happy. But if it doesn’t, I’m still grateful you’re my friend. And grateful you showed me some options for my civilian life. There are Catholic charities all over the globe!”

“You’re really jazzed about this, aren’t you?”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted. To be a working priest. With the smell of the sheep.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Same reason you do what you do. It’s necessary. It’s vitally important. It’s not for everyone, which makes it more important that those who can, do. It feels right.”

“This is insane,” she said. “I’ve known you for years. We’ve never even flirted! And believe me, I’ve known women who flirt with priests.”

He laughed. “So have I. Listen, it wasn’t always easy. At least some of my vows weren’t easy, but that’s what made them important and worthwhile. But having certain oaths didn’t mean I didn’t have feelings.”