Chapter Twenty-Three: To The Forest
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
The windows of Aunt Sarah’s living room have been left wide open. The heavy summer breeze slowly rolls in and out in soft, lazy waves that rustle the leaves outside, stirring the curtains. The deep amber and emerald interior of Aunt Sarah’s house is illuminated with the rich red glow of the fireplace. The place is full of warmth and light, against the pitch-black night outside.
Aunt Sarah is standing near the dresser closest to the fireplace. She’s made up very beautifully, in a time-softened pair of blue jeans and a cute knitted top with bell sleeves that cinch around her wrists. Her silver hair is swept into a subtly elaborate braid, one delicate strand falling loose against the side of her cheek.
There’s a nervous, glowing smile on her face. She’s cradling her glass teacup in both hands, her inquisitive blue eyes watching the face of her visitor.
Father Leo. The rugged, tattooed, very tall priest who did the wedding ceremony for Raj, Mel, and Noah. He doesn’t look like a priest tonight. He looks like the big man who belongs with that truck we saw outside.
He’s not in his clerical clothes, opting instead for a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft cotton shirt. The long sleeves are turned back all the way up to his elbows, revealing the tattoos that spangle his heavily muscled forearms, and he’s wearing no clerical collar, revealing the ink all over his throat. He does have his cross around his neck, though, in its usual place.
There’s a natural roughness to Father Leo’s features, but infinite warmth in his kind, patient eyes. The outline of his powerful build is lined with light from the glow of the fire. And he has that short, shaggy silver hair, the salt and pepper beard. The deep bass voice that roughens on certain words he wants to emphasize, almost like a purring growl.
The result is that he gives off the vague impression of a giant, kind-hearted, nervous grizzly bear trying to act casual in Aunt Sarah’s living room.
The huge scar that runs over his destroyed ear is turned to me and Aiden, so while he’s slightly closer to us than Aunt Sarah, he doesn’t seem to have heard us come in. Actually, he and Aunt Sarah seem pretty absorbed in each other. Both of them look like they’re all eagerness, and trying not to let it show.
Father Leo’s calloused fingers are sifting through some things on a small catch-all tray, which is perched on the dresser.
When he turns to speak to Aunt Sarah, his words break the silence at a surprisingly close-to-normal volume. I remember him shouting the whole time at the wedding, since the loss of his ear permanently threw off his volume control. But he’s doing okay right now, so he must be making a fierce internal effort to get it right.
“I’m noticing these little piles all over your house,” he tells Aunt Sarah, with obvious curiosity. “Collections of knick-knacks, notes, pictures, this one has what just looks like a pretty rock in it-”
“Aiden brought that rock home from the beach when he was a toddler,” Aunt Sarah giggles, speaking slightly above her normal volume so he can hear her. “And of course I have little piles. I like to have the memories around me, to be able to touch them if I want to. Is that such a silly thing to-?”
“No, no, I-”
Father Leo turns as he speaks, finds her face upturned to him, and stops still. He blinks down at her soft blue eyes, which are swimming with light from the fireplace. He looks absolutely lost for a split second, and then he gruffly clears his throat, lets out a deep, rolling laugh.
“On the contrary, I like your little magpie stashes,” he finishes.
Aunt Sarah lets out a sparkling laugh, taken aback. “Magpie stashes!”
“I don’t keep much at my own place,” Father Leo explains, a warm smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “And I don’t get invited into many people’s homes, outside of my old Navy buddies.”
“You - really?” Aunt Sarah draws her head back, startled and incredulous. “How can that be possible?”
“Well, ma’am, I believe it to be a volume control issue,” Father Leo says apologetically. “That’s why I appreciate you kindly pointing out to me that I was speaking too loud. Not everyone is patient enough to help me get to the right decibel. Am I still doing alright, by the way?”
“Yes.” Aunt Sarah smiles up at him, fidgeting with the soft silver strand escaping her braid. “And me? Am I being loud enough?”
Father Leo hesitates, then shrugs and nods, like - yeah, sort of. “I’m getting a little help from reading your lips.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you could do that.” Aunt Sarah runs her thumb around the green glass rim of her teacup, gazing up at him curiously. “Is that why you’ve been looking at my mouth?”
Father Leo hesitates again, carefully not looking at Aunt Sarah, then goes on sorting through the little things on the dresser. But I know he’s only pretending he didn’t hear her, because a faint blush climbs to his cheeks.
“Point is, I have to figure you’re one of the few who I don’t end up accidentally shouting at,” he tells Aunt Sarah, casting her a quick, grateful smile over his shoulder. “I think mostly people hear me at the volume I was using at the wedding. Same one I use at the pulpit.”
“That’s a shame,” Aunt Sarah laughs, tightening her grasp around the teacup. “Because your voice at its normal volume is quite - quite taking.”
Father Leo blinks in surprise, then hesitates for a moment.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught that.” He drops his gaze to her lips, watching closely. “Say it again?”
“I…” Aunt Sarah blushes a little, then hastily waves a hand at him. “Nevermind.”
In the shadowy darkness of the entryway, I turn to grin up at Aiden.
“Quite taking,” I whisper, and he digs his elbow into my ribs in exasperation. “Should we go out there, or just try to leave quietly?”
Aiden hesitates, unsure. He looks thrown off, bewildered, and vaguely suspicious.
“Not yet,” he whispers back, the concern obvious in his voice. “Let’s just see why he’s h-”
“Do you want another cup, Father?” Aunt Sarah asks, sounding flustered.
She nods at the second cup of tea on the coffee table.
“Please, Sarah, call me Leo.” He gestures to his throat, where there’s no collar. “I’m off the clock at the moment.”
Aunt Sarah begins to protest, but Father Leo stops her with a reassuring wave of his hand.
“Really, it’s alright. You’ll notice I’m not the type to wear my clerical clothes when I’m not doing church things. Although I do wear them to protests and logging blockades.” He breaks into a broad, spontaneous grin. “Makes for bad photo ops when the cops arrest us.”
Aunt Sarah shakes her head helplessly, losing the battle against her laughter. “You’re a very unusual priest.”
“Jesus was all for civil disobedience,” Father Leo answers, around a deep, hearty laugh of his own. “I’ve done my share in my time, too. Still at it, if I’m being honest.”
Aunt Sarah’s eyes flit to the massive scar where one of Father Leo’s ears should be, the one that slashes all the way down his neck.
“You really got that from chaining yourself to cutting machinery, Leo?” she asks, in a much more serious voice. “To stop a logging operation in the old-growth?”
Father Leo slowly shrugs his enormous shoulders.
“Well, I had hoped they wouldn’t turn it on with me still chained to it, but… yes. It’s my belief that a priest’s responsibility is to protect God’s gifts to us. Especially those gifts that can’t fight for themselves.” He looks away and breathes out a quiet laugh, running a hand over his razor-sharp jaw. “A more cynical voice might say I came back from the Navy, didn’t know what I was good for anymore, and jumped right into another war. You can take your pick, although personally I’d prefer you believe the first explanation.”
Aunt Sarah gazes up at him with thoughtful eyes, turning it over in her mind. The soft murmuring of the breeze through the trees and the snapping of the fire are the only sounds to break the quiet.
“I do believe the first explanation,” she finally says, tilting her head to the side. “The cynical voice sounds like it has its perspective skewed. Maybe it listened to too many people who didn’t understand the first voice.”
Father Leo draws back, then cracks a broad, startled smile. He had been watching Aunt Sarah’s mouth - maybe afraid he would miss something she said - but now his eyes flit up to meet hers, and linger there for a second.
Almost like he’s looking for something to do with his hands, he draws a photo out from the so-called magpie stash on the dresser, then gazes down at it. I only get the fastest glimpse, but I can tell that it’s a picture of Aiden wearing his high school soccer uniform, and it looks like he’s in the middle of a kick.
Father Leo examines it, then lifts his head to look at Aunt Sarah again.
“Sarah, can I ask you something? Your son…”
He trails off in surprise as Aunt Sarah quickly begins shaking her head.
An abashed, guilty expression is coming into her eyes. “Did I - did I say that Aiden is my son?”
Father Leo blinks down at her, confused. “I asked if he was your eldest, and you said he was your only one. Or - maybe I misheard you?”
The guilty look in Aunt Sarah’s eyes deepens.
“Oh, no, you didn’t! I misspoke. It’s just that sometimes I…” She spreads a hand at Father Leo apologetically, struggling to explain. “Aiden’s been with me since he was so little, and even before that, I had always felt - sometimes it’s hard to remember that he’s not technically, um - he’s my nephew. I’m his aunt. I can’t really take the credit from my sister for him.”
There’s a pause, and then she adds softly - “As much as I’d like to.”
I go motionless where I am, then slowly look up at Aiden. He’s gone perfectly still, too, more than a little startled - but as I watch, warm, deep affection begins to glow in his eyes. He drops his head, runs his hand over the back of his neck.
“That comes as a surprise to me,” Father Leo says thoughtfully, gazing down at Aunt Sarah. “I could swear that I see a loving mother in you, Sarah. And quite a loving son in Aiden. Something tells me you have a lot to take credit for, when it comes to him.”
Aunt Sarah opens her eyes very wide, caught by surprise. A crimson blush slowly spreads across her cheeks as she smiles up at him. Her slender shoulders are drawn in, her hands holding tight to her teacup. Her eyes are unusually bright, shining with a certain kind of shy, eager nervousness that I’ve never seen her show before. It makes her look younger.
She turns away swiftly from Father Leo, then drops onto the couch by the fireplace and pulls her feet up. She makes an offering gesture towards the nearby armchair, and Father Leo obligingly lowers his vast self into it. A surprised, satisfied smile flickers across his face once he settles in.
“I like it here,” he informs Aunt Sarah, knocking his knuckles on the armchair. “Good, sturdy furniture. Means a big man doesn’t have to be cautious when he sits down.”
“I had to adjust for Aiden!” Aunt Sarah lets out a helpless laugh, then a groan. “One day when he was around twelve or thirteen years old, I blinked, once. The next thing I knew he was tall enough to hit his head in the doorways, his shoulders were twice as wide, he was shaving his face, eating his way through the whole fridge, prone to fly into a rage for no reason I could sort out, clumsy enough on those long legs to smash everything in my house… It was sometime around then I made the choice to replace the furniture.”
Aiden blushes indignantly as I flash him a giant grin over my shoulder.
“That’s what I get for snooping,” he grumbles softly, rubbing his eyes in an agonized kind of way.
“This all sounds remarkably familiar,” Father Leo says gravely, in a regretful voice. “God will want me to atone for my thirteen-year-old self, come the day. I’m not sure that even a lifetime of service to the church will be enough to settle my accounts.”
Aunt Sarah smiles up at him again, laughing with her eyes. “I didn’t mean to get us sidetracked. Did you want to ask me something about Aiden?”
Father Leo kneads his palm, quickly growing serious. The nervousness I saw before comes over his eyes again, and shows itself in his fidgeting fingers.
“Ah… not exactly about Aiden, but more…” He runs a hand over his salt and pepper beard, then sits forward in the armchair, looking earnestly at Aunt Sarah. “Here’s the thing. You’re a woman of faith, Sarah, and I suspect in the same way that I’m a man of faith. In a way that puts love first, above all. Regardless of whether that love falls into traditional forms. I can see that you’re treating Aiden’s relationship with Jamie with love and support, and - we met at a wedding for three people.”
“We did,” Aunt Sarah laughs, her delicate eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “So…?”
“So - so-” Father Leo goes silent for a moment, struggling with himself, looking nervously at Aunt Sarah. Then he blurts out, all in a rush - “Maybe you wouldn’t call it wrong for a priest to try and get himself a date, despite what more traditional teachings might say. Would that be a correct guess on my part?”
Aunt Sarah goes perfectly still on the couch, staring at Father Leo with her blue eyes wide and startled.
A few seconds pass, and then the burning, rosy blush spreads across Aunt Sarah’s face again. She lowers her eyes to her teacup, nibbling her lip.
“Yes, that’s a correct guess,” she answers slowly. “But…”
Father Leo’s hopeful eyes had started to brighten. Now his face falls.
“But?” he repeats, already looking a little crestfallen.
“I…” Aunt Sarah takes a deep breath as she lifts her gaze to meet his again. “I’ve had a complicated life, Leo. I do have some secrets. Ones that have come down to me from my family, which I intend to keep. I just think you should know that.”
Father Leo gazes at her through the firelight, his brows furrowed.
“I’m sorry, I - can you say that again?” he asks, after a moment. “I missed some of it.”
Aunt Sarah hesitates, clearly struggling inside. I get the strong impression that she wants to say something else, anything else - but she takes another deep breath, then repeats herself exactly, in a clear, slightly louder voice.
Father Leo absorbs her words slowly, his expression very serious. His eyes search hers with obvious fascination and curiosity as he sits back in the armchair, running a hand over his beard again.
“Well, ma’am,” he answers slowly, thinking as he speaks, “I can understand that. Matter of fact, I’m relieved to hear you say it. You know that I was a soldier. There are some things I’d rather not speak about, myself.”
Aunt Sarah blinks, once. Then her shoulders fall softly, and she closes her eyes with relief.
“It’s hard to picture you as a soldier,” she says, opening her eyes to look at him again. “A gentle-hearted thing like you? Really?”
Father Leo draws back, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. His huge form shakes with a deep, indignant laugh, and he lifts himself slightly to slip his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. He finds a small, aged photo from somewhere within it, then offers it to Aunt Sarah.
“There’s some proof for you. Me and some of the boys from my squadron, when we were still in our boots. That’s me right there, next to Joey - there.”
Aunt Sarah’s blue eyes widen. She gasps softly as she sets aside her teacup and takes the photo from him.
“Oh, look at you,” she giggles, pressing her fingertips over her mouth. She glances up at him shyly. “You - you look like someone prey to adoration. I can see jealous fights breaking out around you constantly.”
Father Leo laughs, a pleased grin turning up his mouth. He gives his shoulders an abashed shrug.
Aunt Sarah lifts her smiling eyes to him, lets them rest on his rugged face. “The years have treated you kindly, Leo. Uncommonly so.”
He blinks hard and fast, then breathes out a soft, surprised laugh. He looks deeply moved by what she said, overcome, half-astonished.
“Well… thank you.” He runs a hand over his ruined ear, then the scarred part of his neck. “That’s not one I hear a lot.”
Aunt Sarah lets her eyes linger on him, enveloping him in her warm smile. Then she moves impulsively, turning around on the couch to reach up to the little stash on the dresser. She catches hold of a printed photo, draws it down to herself, and gazes down at it.
“This picture was taken right before Aiden moved in with me,” she says softly, tenderly. “The way he used to cling so close to my legs like that!”
Father Leo observes the love in her eyes with a smile in his own. “What’s his trade? Your boy?”
Aunt Sarah looks up at Father Leo, brimming with pride.
“He’s the archivist for City Hall,” she says impressively. “He curated a whole exhibition, once! It got a glowing review in the paper. I’ve got the cutting in one of my stashes.”
“An archivist?” Father Leo’s expression brightens. “Wonderful. He and I are in the same line of work.”
Aunt Sarah blinks in confusion. “What line of work is that?”
He gestures to the scar on his neck, grinning widely. “Historic preservation.”
Aunt Sarah breathes out a surprised laugh, her eyes twinkling with warmth.
“It sounds like a true passion of yours, Leo. Looking out for the old-growth.”
“Yeah, I… I think there’s a belief that priests have no devotions outside of the church.” He meets her gaze earnestly, his deep voice growing serious again. “I can promise you, that’s not true.”
Aunt Sarah hesitates, blushing, then hands Father Leo the picture she’s been holding.
“There. That’s me when I was young, so. Now we’re even.”
Father Leo gazes at the picture for a long, silent moment. Then he slowly looks up at Aunt Sarah again, a dreamy, goofy, huge smile written all over his face. Aunt Sarah lets out a startled laugh when she sees it, but she tries to play it off cool, examining her fingernails.
“I like to think I was pretty cute when I was younger.”
“Stunning,” Father Leo agrees softly, in his deep, purring voice. He’s still looking at her, not the photo. “But now, in maturity…”
He trails off into silence, staring at her with smitten, enraptured eyes. Like he can’t even find the words.
Aunt Sarah stares back at him, startled. The blush in her cheeks grows deeper, giving her face a gentle glow. She lets out a soft wave of giggles, looking like she’s desperately searching for something to say.
Aiden and I are having a silent and hurried conference in the entryway, which ends when he gives me a thumbs-up to confirm our plan of action. He opens the front door - loudly, this time - then pushes it shut hard enough that the doorknob rattles.
“Hey, Auntie,” he calls out, all casual.
Aunt Sarah looks up quickly as we walk into the living room, freezing where she is on the couch. Father Leo stirs slowly, turns to us like someone struggling to emerge from a dream, then seems to snap back into it all at once. He sets the picture aside and gets to his feet, right as Aunt Sarah does the same thing beside him.
“AIDEN, JAMIE!” Father Leo booms, his voice rising nearer to its usual volume in his surprise. “IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU BOTH AGAIN-”
He breaks off and looks down as Aunt Sarah tugs on his sleeve.
“You could bring it down by about half,” she says gently, with laughter in her eyes.
“HALF?” Father Leo repeats, and then, very hurriedly - “Oh, half, yes - is this better?”
“That’s perfect, Father,” I answer, working hard to keep my laughter internal as I accept a handshake from him. “It’s good to see you again, too!”
Father Leo cuffs my shoulder, nearly sending me staggering, then gives Aiden a tentative smile. “How’s work at the Archives, Aiden?”
“Not bad,” Aiden answers stiffly.
He had been looking unhappy, but I can tell that - against his will - his sense of humor is starting to get the better of him. He doesn’t exactly smile at Father Leo, but the sudden bout of shouting has him fighting down a laugh. And Aunt Sarah, who has clearly already taken in the situation, is shooting Aiden a look that conveys a silent, reproving, be good or else message.
But Father Leo’s nervous, hopeful face makes it clear that he’s trying to make a gesture of friendship, and I think that’s the real reason why the hard expression in Aiden’s eyes begins to soften.
“How’ve you been, Father?” he rumbles.
“Good, son, good,” Father Leo booms. A flash of relief comes over his face as he hears the undercurrent of warmth in Aiden’s voice. “Just came by to pay your aunt a visit. Wanted to do it right after the wedding, but I was handcuffed to some concrete blocks on a logging road. I mean, I’m the one who locked myself there, but I wasn’t supposed to leave once we started the - it’s a long story.”
Aiden lets out a sputter of startled laughter before he can stop himself, and Father Leo breaks into a broad, relieved grin.
“So, what were you guys up to?” I fold my arms over my chest and glance back and forth between Aunt Sarah and Father Leo, grinning widely. “Been having fun?”
Father Leo gives me an earnest, happy smile.
“Yeah, I’d say we were.” He glances hopefully at Aunt Sarah, then clears his throat and nods at the door. “But it’s about time I got going, so I’ll leave your aunt to you. Nice to see you boys, though! Say hello to Raj, Noah, and Melanie for me. And little Nikita, of course!”
“We will!” I call, as he heads to the door.
Aunt Sarah goes with him, and waits while he pulls on the well-worn pair of fawn-colored hiking boots sitting there.
He hesitates once he straightens up, then steals a searching glance at me and Aiden. We’re pretending not to watch, and I think he knows that, because he looks self-conscious. But he catches Aunt Sarah’s hand in his own, then bends down. He murmurs something softly to her, very close to her ear, that makes her go perfectly still.
Aiden and I can’t hear any of it, but we do hear it when Father Leo straightens up and asks, in what he must think is a quiet voice:
“Can I call you, little magpie?”
Aunt Sarah lets out a soft, helpless laugh. She closes her eyes, struggling to collect herself. Then she presses her lips together, smiling, and nods.
Father Leo beams at her, practically glowing with surprise and delight. He draws back, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. He looks like he wants to say something, but maybe he’s not sure what, because he gives her a silent nod, then lets himself out. Aunt Sarah closes the door after him, then turns to face Aiden.
An uncomfortable silence falls.
Aunt Sarah opens her mouth to say something, but stops abruptly as Father Leo’s distant, shouting voice reaches us from outside. He must be back in his truck, but we can hear him speaking into his phone with perfect clarity.
“I actually did it,” he’s saying excitedly. There’s a pause, and then - “I don’t know how it’s possible, but pretty good, I think! God is truly on my side, brother. I’ll meet you and the boys at the bar, I’ve got to tell you everything - she’s gorgeous, Joey, I was shaking in my boots!”
Aunt Sarah presses her fingertips to her burning cheeks, then whips around to glare at me and Aiden as we burst into laughter.
“Wicked boys!” She rushes over and starts indignantly swatting at both of us. “He’s a priest, don’t you laugh at him!”
“We’re not laughing at him!” I protest, struggling to stop myself, pleading for mercy with my eyes. “It was just sweet, okay? You’re trying not to laugh, too!”
“Okay, look, I know he can be a - a tiny bit loud,” Aunt Sarah concedes, and then, when this draws a wail of laughter from Aiden - “Stop it, you!”
“Aw, what the hell, Auntie?” Aiden raggedly pulls himself together, tilts his head back, and takes a frustrated swipe at nothing. “What does scripture say about flirting with the priest?”
“If only you’d read it all those times I told you to, you’d know,” Aunt Sarah says primly, heading for the kitchen. “Do you boys want some tea?”
“No, we don’t want-”
“I’ll have some,” I interrupt, causing Aiden to cast an exasperated glare at me over his shoulder as he follows his aunt into the kitchen. “Aiden probably wants one, too.”
Aunt Sarah crosses to the stove and puts water on for the tea. I head to the cabinets to get some teacups down, and Aiden stops on the other side of the kitchen island, one eyebrow arched high.
“Tell us everything, Auntie,” he rumbles, helping himself to some of the dough she’d left out on the floured countertop. “Is it about the Mufasa voice? I heard it’s very taking.”
“You like men just as much as I do, smart-mouth boy!” Aunt Sarah takes the dough back from Aiden, then stabs a floury finger in his face. “You know there’s a whole lot to appreciate about that man besides his voice! He’s a total hunk. I know you know that.”
Aiden blushes indignantly, then sinks his head into his hands.
“Coming out to your family has drawbacks no one warns you about,” he groans. “This being a perfect example.”
“She’s not wrong, though,” I whisper to Aiden, who instantly snaps upright to make a betrayed face at me. “And you have a Mufasa voice, too. You do realize that?”
“Listen, Aiden.” Aunt Sarah gazes at him affectionately across the counter, catching his eye before he can let out the heated answer he had lined up for me. “I know this is probably a little weird for you, honey.”
Aiden stops, then hangs his head, a little shame-faced. “No, I - it’s not weird. I want you to be happy, obviously. ‘Course I do.”
Aunt Sarah watches him closely, searching his eyes.
“Sweetheart, now that I’ve finally seen you settled with someone special, I’m not worrying about you all the time, so can’t - can’t I go looking for my own someone special?” She reaches across the kitchen island to squeeze Aiden’s wrist, leaving flour fingerprints behind. “You’ll always be my first priority. You know that.”
“It’s not about that, Auntie.” Aiden takes a deep breath, his blue eyes full of anxiety. “It’s just - are you sure he’s a good guy, and that he’s who he says he is? Look him up for me, Jamie. Use my laptop so you can go through the archives. You remember his last name from the wedding?”
I don’t know why Aiden is so worried, all of a sudden. But I don’t like to see him that way, so I snag his work bag from his shoulder and take it over to the kitchen table.
Aunt Sarah is staring hard at Aiden, some understanding dawning in her blue eyes.
“Aiden,” she murmurs softly. “This is not going to be your father all over again. I promise.”
Aiden bounces his knee, watching her with stressed-out eyes. “Bet mom thought dad was really great at first, too.”
I look up from Aiden’s laptop, finally understanding. My heart aches at what I hear in his sweet, anxious voice.
Aunt Sarah drops her gaze to the countertop for a moment, old sadness flickering in her expression.
“I saw what your father was right from the very beginning, honey,” she murmurs, then lifts her eyes back to Aiden’s, glowing with affection. “Just like I could always see that you were a precious little thing.”
Aiden tosses his hands up, his pained voice full of mingled love and exasperation. “Auntie!”
“Okay, well - Father Leo’s service record checks out,” I break in gently, seating myself at the kitchen table as I scroll through the results on Aiden’s laptop. “He finished out his service in the Navy Chaplain Corps. And it… looks like he has a master’s degree.”
Aunt Sarah looks over at me curiously. “In what?”
“Comparative religions. Oh, um…” I fade off as my eyes land on the search result below his educational background. “The next result is something about an arrest. But just let me see what-”
I break off abruptly, then look up at Aiden and Aunt Sarah in disbelief, fighting back a dazed laugh.
“Okay, you guys have got to see this,” I inform them, turning the laptop around.
Aiden and Aunt Sarah quickly join me at the table, then join me in staring with open-mouthed amazement at the picture on the screen.
It’s a photograph that was published with a newspaper article. The story is about the cops arresting a group of protestors who had blockaded a critical road through the old-growth, in an attempt to stall the tree cutting until lawyers could get an injunction to stop it.
The photo has been taken through the bars of a holding cell, which is crammed with exhausted-looking people. They’re of all different ages, and all of them are stained with mud and leaves. Many of them have puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, suggesting the cops weren’t above using pepper spray. That seems more likely than the idea that all of them were crying, because while the depth of the fatigue in the group is evident, so is the strength.
Seated on a bench in the cell, in the middle of everyone, is Father Leo.
It’s unmistakably him, even though in the picture he’s much younger. He already has all those tattoos he picked up in the Navy, and the formidable build. But his ears are both intact, his hair thick and dark and unruly, his jaw hard and sharp as a razor.
I can see why Aunt Sarah got so giggly when he showed her the picture of his younger self. He’s a heartbreaker.
He’s just as muddy and grass-stained as everyone else, but he’s wearing his clergy clothes, right down to the collar. Everyone has huddled around him, with or without meaning to. One of the young men leans tiredly against Father Leo’s knee, and a pierced-up girl with a mohawk is resting against his side.
Father Leo sits with his elbows resting on his parted knees. His eyes are calm and commanding, but full of ferocious, solemn strength. Staring right into the camera. One single, defiant lock touches his brow, which is streaked with mud. His huge hands are cuffed, but - maybe because they didn’t dare to take it away from him - he’s holding his Bible.
“Oh, wow,” Aunt Sarah giggles, pressing her fingers over her mouth. “Yeah, I - I think he’s who he says he is.”
I tilt my head back to grin up at Aiden. “Satisfied, babe?”
Aiden closes his eyes, then breaks into a slow, relieved smile.
“Jesus Christ, Auntie,” he laughs, then dodges when she indignantly swats at his arm. “Go out and find yourself a punk priest, why don’t you?”
“You better not take the Lord’s name in vain like that when he’s around! If he decides to be around again, that is,” she adds hastily, like she doesn’t want to get ahead of herself. “We’ll see what happens. So long as… oh, Aiden, come on. You know you like him. You’re trying not to like him.”
“Someone’s got to, just in case!” he protests, then hesitates, rubbing his elbow. “What did he say to you when he left?”
Aunt Sarah bites her lip and smooths down her silver braid, the blush from before returning.
“He said… that when he danced with me at the wedding, he could see himself as more than just fodder for the fight. He could see himself being meant for something - beyond the battlefield. He said he’s not sure he’s really felt that way before.”
Aiden blinks hard in surprise, taken aback. His ocean eyes flit over to me, and I tilt my head to the side, looking at him coaxingly.
He lets out a huge sigh, tilting his head all the way back, and Aunt Sarah smiles happily.
“Just give him a chance, honey. That’s all I ask.” She pats his hand, then starts rolling out the dough again. “Now, what are you two doing here? Tell me you’re staying for dinner?”
“If that’s okay, yeah,” I answer, shutting the laptop. “We have something kind of amazing to tell you.”
Aunt Sarah pauses with her hands in the dough. She looks up, arching an eyebrow as she takes in the excited grins on our faces.
“This day just keeps getting better and better,” she laughs.
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