An Important Notice to Readers...
Although this fiction blog is illustrated with photos of dolls, and dollhouse miniatures, the language and content of the storyline is intended for an adult audience. Please be advised.
|Fr. Kevin attempts his apology...yet again.|
The Sheriff had neither the time, or inclination, to answer any of them, nor the patience to present an argument defending his plan of action over Kevin's disapproval. There would be time later, when things were taken care of, to soothe her brother's ruffled feathers and hurt feelings. His job at the moment was to pry Maureen from the clutches of Patrick and Eileen O'Kenney, and somehow maneuver her into Nolan's rental, parked in the lot to the rear of the building. Checking his cell phone one last time, he nodded to Nolan, and began the process of collecting his wife.
It surprised Fr. Kevin, that despite the drama of all that happened in the last 24 hours, he found himself enjoying the post wedding festivities. Dinner had been delicious, and the conversation around the table had everyone relaxed, as Brendan entertained them with crazy stories from his North End precinct. When the two of them had been kids, he and his brother had been like oil and water, forced together by genetic code, but never easily blending. As an adult, he still found Brendan sarcastic and mean spirited, but there was no denying he had loads of charisma, and was simply funny as hell.
Roxanne must have thought so too, as she spent the entire dinner giggling over everything that came out of his brother's mouth. Sensing he had a fan, Brendan put forth his best tales, while next to him, his wife rolled her eyes, having heard the same stories far too many times. Kevin found himself wishing he was the one making Roxie laugh instead of his brother, and that realization made him uncomfortable. He quickly squelched any such feelings, and worked instead on encouraging his brother's performance by bringing up stories he had heard a dozen times before. Eventually, Sarah grew tired of her husband's one man show, and with the excuse of a long ride home, ended the party around the table, leaving Fr. Kevin alone with Roxanne.
There was no putting off any longer what needed to be said. He had tried to apologize several times over the course of the wedding, but each time he had gotten close, something had interrupted the moment. Now, he just needed to get the words out. "I'm really glad you came to the wedding, Roxanne. It was great seeing you again."
"It was great seeing you too, Kevin. To be honest, I almost didn't come. I thought it might be awkward, but now I'm glad I did. Everyone's been really nice..."
"Before you leave to go back to Boston tonight, I really need to talk to you."
"Oh. Well...okay, that's fine. But I'm not leaving right away. Not tonight anyway."
"You're staying until tomorrow morning?"
She looked at him puzzled. "Maureen didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
She half smiled, and explained. "She was worried about leaving the Schillers without any help while she was away on her honeymoon. Especially with Mr. Schiller's bursitis acting up. She asked if I could possible stay in Dollyville for a couple of weeks. You know... kinda take her place in the deli."
"Stay here? In town? But...don't you have classes or something back home? And what about your...your job?"
At the mention of her employment, they both blushed, but she quickly regained her composure, and continued. "The fall semester at Boston College doesn't start for at least five weeks. As for the job...well...I get paid when I work. My time is my own, so no worries there."
Never in a million years would the possibility of Roxanne staying in Dollyville past the wedding weekend ever have crossed his mind. Working in the deli down the street from the church? Probably staying in his sister's apartment? He'd likely run into her all the time. See her when he picked up his groceries. He'd have to make casual conversation and such. And...Oh Lord...what if she showed up at Mass? Did she even go to Mass anymore? He suddenly felt confused, giddy and horrified...all at the same time, and the recently consumed lobster tails with drawn butter threatened to reappear at any moment.
His expression must have revealed his inner turmoil, because the smile slipped off Roxanne's face, and was replaced by an embarrassed grimace. "I guess you weren't aware of any of this, were you?"
The flustered Pastor could only shake his head, not trusting he'd say anything that would come out sounding reasonable
Gathering her backbone, hurt by the disapproval she read in his face, Roxanne fired back, "Look, if you're not comfortable with me staying in your sister's apartment, I could perhaps hunt for some where else to camp out for the next few weeks...although it's seems pretty damn silly when the flat above the store is sitting empty. I gave Maureen my word that I'd take care of this for her, so I have no intention of backing out, especially after all the poor girl's gone through in the past few hours. She deserves some care free time alone with her new husband, and I intend to do my part in making that happen. Even if you view living down the street from a stripper as an insult to your high moral sensibilities."
The conversation seemed to be headed in a downward spiral, and Kevin dug deep for something to say that would change the course of its direction. But the exhaustion and stress of the last few days had taken a toil, and he was void of any words of priestly wisdom. The best he could come up with sounded flat and empty, even to his ears. "No it's fine. Feel free to stay in Maureen's flat while you're here in Dollyville."
Grabbing her purse from the back of the chair, she slung it over her shoulder, hitting him in the chest as she did so. Then, with a look of disdain, added, "I'm so glad it meets with your approval, Father. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to say my good-byes to the bride and groom." With that, she turned her back on him, shoulders set in firm determination, and marched away.
|The infamous utility closet at the Park West. One can only imagine...|
Maureen was in mid-conversation with Patrick and Eileen, when she once again heard the "pling" of the cell phone in her purse. It was, without a doubt, another text from her husband, who seemed adamant about wrapping up this celebration in prompt fashion. He had been texting her all evening, most of the conversation being of the nature of things that made her blush. She excused herself, and stepped to the side, retrieving the phone from her purse. She knew better than to ignore his texts, and couldn't do so even if she wanted to. The fact was, everything the man did made her breathless and shaky, dizzy with anticipation. She was still pinching herself over the realization that they were officially husband and wife, and even the disaster and heartache of the night before did little to change her mind set.
This text was minus any of graphic detail that made up the earlier ones. It simply stated, "Baby...you have approximately four minutes to meet me in our favorite utility closet. And I do mean four. T." She wanted to giggle out loud, the whole thing being so damn hot, but she was sure people would notice her odd behavior in light of the events of the night before, and instead, slipped the phone back in her purse, while looking for the most discreet way to leave her own party.
Copyright 2013 Victoria T. Rocus
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