Page 79 of Counted
He’d told her the truth. They’d talked about it before when he told her he was sick, but this time he opened up and shared everything. He was mourning his mother and wracked withguilt about disappointing her—not giving her what she’d wanted—and he’d channeled that into a foolish gesture. He’d known and liked Eve and believed they’d get along pretty well, so he’d chosen her and embarrassed himself with the thoughtless proposal.
He hadn’t really wanted to get married back then. He’d simply wanted to make a gesture in memory of his mother.
Eve had appeared to understand. She clearly didn’t resent his stupidity back then. After a couple more minutes, she’d asked if he wanted to go to Mass this morning.
He hadn’t been surprised by the question. It felt inevitable somehow.
He’d told her he wasn’t sure, and she’d asked him why not, getting him to share his feelings enough for her to recognize the spiritual push and pull he’d been experiencing. That was when she’d suggested coming here today. After Mass. During the open hours for prayer.
So here he was. Hoping to… figure out something.
He’d been sitting for about fifteen minutes, lost in his own thoughts and recollections, when Father Paul appeared through a side door. He spoke to the couple near the front for a minute, and then he walked over and sat in the pew beside Jude.
He didn’t say anything. Just leaned forward and stared down at his clasped hands.
Jude eventually straightened up and cleared his throat.
Father Paul smiled at him. “How’s married life?”
“It’s good,” Jude told him truthfully. “I didn’t expect it to be so good.”
“And Eve is well?”
“Yes. She’s great. She’s at the coffee shop down the block. She thought it was a good idea I come here this morning.”
Father Paul’s gaze was sharp and observant, but his mouth was relaxed. His eyes were kind. “Sometimes it takes someone who loves us to give us a push.”
Jude shifted uncomfortably. He loved the sound of the words—the idea that Eve might love him—but he also knew it wasn’t really true.
She cared for him. More than he’d ever expected. But that didn’t equal love.
There was a difference, and he wouldn’t live long enough to possibly see her feelings transform.
“I’m not even sure why I’m here,” he admitted.
“Being here is a good first step.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” Father Paul moved his eyes to the altar at the front of the sanctuary. “You don’t have to desperately chase your faith, Jude. God has done the work, and he continues it. He comes to you.”
Jude tightened his lips and leaned forward again. “He hasn’t. For a really long time.”
“Maybe he has. Maybe your back was turned and so you never saw him.”
Jude felt awkward and overly emotional. Vulnerable. He didn’t like it. A familiar, bitter resistance rose inside him. “If he wanted me to see him, he could have been kinder.”
That evidently surprised Father Paul. He stared at Jude for a long time, searching for an answer on his face. Finally he asked softly, “What’s going on, Jude?”
Jude knew exactly what he was asking, but he pretended not to. “I thought I’d come by today and… and think about some things.”
“I understand why you’re here this morning. That’s not what I’m asking. Is your father all right?”
Jude’s throat tightened painfully as he looked back down at his clasped hands. His father wasn’t all right. He was trying to come to grips with the fact that his son was dying. “Yeah. He’s fine.”
“And Eve is all right?”
“Yes. She’s… amazing. I love her.”