Priest

"Knock, knock."

Maxine's small hospital room was filling up. Her dad was hovering, and Lieutenant Kelly (Kelly's dad) and a nurse checking vitals and I-V were crowding her. And whoever was entering, she wouldn't extend a warm welcome. She wanted to text Kelly with what she remembered but couldn't with everyone in the room.

"Ah, Officer Maxine McMenamin, yes?"

From beyond the curtain, a priest emerged. He was old, dressed in the standard black-on-black with his white Roman Collar. In his late 60s, the priest had thinning gray hair and a weathered face. But his eyes had a comforting effect on her. They held a cheery and gentle gleam that made her smile.

Lieutenant Kelly straightened up, his hands at his sides, almost as if being called to attention.

Her father, however, only acknowledged him with a half smile. The McMenamin's weren't Catholic but evangelical. My parents thought the Catholic Religion to be more of a cult than a church. They considered it sacrilege for the mindless to pray to saints, statues, and a priest who offered forgiveness.

"It is indeed good to see you alive. I feared the worst when I heard about the woman police officer who risked her life and sustained near-fatal injuries."

His thick French accent was a bit more understandable. I suppose it became embedded in my head after our first encounter and how many times I thought about his words.

"Morning, Father," said Lieutenant Kelly. "My name is John Kelly. I've seen you around Saint Gabriel's, but I could never introduce myself."

"Very well, very well," said the priest. "I am Father Moritz. Yes, I am new, but for how long I'll be here, I don't know. The Vatican has its way with my postings."

Father Moritz tapped the bible clutched in his hands as his rosary beads dangled and swayed with each tap.

"Let me see," he said. "Twenty-five different assignments since I walked into seminary at nineteen years." He extended his hand to Lieutenant Kelly, who gladly received it.

Maxine's father, however, wanted nothing to do with him. She watched him flex his jaw and grind his teeth. He'd be polite, but not for long.

Yet Father Moritz and Lieutenant Kelly sparked a conversation, ignoring Calum McMenamin's attitude.

"Yes," said Moritz. "I've been a professor of ancient Semitic languages, an exorcist, and, on special assignments from three different popes."

Moritz's smile widened as he seemed to revel in the memories of the places he'd been. His eyes sparkled, drawing Maxine's attention settling her nerves with peace.

"Of course, John Paul the First held a special affection for me. And I for him," he said.

He walked to Maxine's bedside opposite her father. He looked at him with a genuine smile, taking on the role of the concerned priest, but received only a slight nod in response.

"Even with these terrible injuries, you are still quite lovely," said Moritz. "You poor thing. I pray that this beast who prevailed himself upon you will suffer at the hands of God's laws and man's medieval punishments."

Maxine smiled the best she could as Lieutenant Kelly moved to the foot of her bed, and her father looked down, breaking eye contact with the priest.

She felt bad for Father Moritz, and if she had the energy, she tell her father to stop being so holier and better than thou. She hated that about him. He was quick to judge. Once he made up his mind, there was no going back.

Your animosity towards Kelly is the reason behind your rude demeanor towards his father.

Max saw how he interacted with Lieutenant Kelly. His aloof attitude, one-word responses, and constant sighing and hissing angered her. And that anger grew more intense because of her inability to express it. That's why she found Father Moritz such a soothing presence. He wasn't concerned with family strife, the who did it and why. He was an old man who wanted to comfort her.

"I'll bet you didn't know I met your partner. It was the end of March in a store parking lot...the one with the numbers..."

"7-11," snapped her father. He stood and pushed out his chest. His anger for the priest was palpable, forcing Maxine to take his hand and squeeze with what little strength she could muster.

"Oh, tut-tut now," he said, waving at Maxine's father. "A pleasant lad, quite handsome. The two of you make a wonderful couple."

Maxine couldn't help but smile, still squeezing her father's hand. Lieutenant Kelly grinned and looked at Father Moritz. His smile beamed, and his eyes glistened with pride. Father Moritz turned toward him, his eyebrows pinched, and lips pursed with curiosity.

"Lieutenant Kelly, is there a connection? Your son, is he?"

"He's my boy," he said. "My only child, actually. I'm very proud of the man he's become."

He put his hands in his pocket and smiled at Maxine, who smiled back. Her father, however, wanted no more of this. He cleared his throat and stood, pushing the chair back in haste. As he pulled his hand from Maxine, he glared at Lieutenant Kelly and then the priest.

"I'm sorry. What does this have to do with my daughter?" he huffed. "Maybe the two of you can take it outside? Max needs her rest, not to listen to irrelevant family connections."

Maxine's cheeks lifted toward her squinted eyes as her lips curled. The humiliation and embarrassment at his outburst brought tears she had to fight.

"Calum," snapped Lieutenant Kelly. His voice was sharp and harsh. "Enough. He's doing his job, and so am I. So calm yourself down." The Lieutenant drew out and exaggerated his last three words.

When Father Moritz took Maxine's hand, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. And at that moment, she witnessed something contradicting his initial impression. His countenance changed. And although his smile stayed intact, his eyes flashed. They held a haunted and sinister gleam. They were sharp and full of rage, and it frightened her.

How did you know that Kelly and I are in a relationship, and why do I get the sense that you're looking out for me?