Priest_by_Sierra_Simone 3

city, not the leisurely twang I sometimes heard out here in rural Missouri. “I,
um. I saw the church while I was at the winery across the street. And I
wanted to—well, I have some things that are bothering me. I’ve never been
particularly religious, but I thought maybe…” She trailed off for a minute and
then abruptly inhaled. “This was stupid. I should go.” I heard her stand.
“Stop,” I said and then was shocked at myself. I never gave orders like
that. Well, not anymore.
Focus.
She sat, and I could hear her fidgeting with her purse.
“You aren’t stupid,” I said, my voice gentler. “This isn’t a contract. This
isn’t you promising to come to Mass every week for the rest of your life. This
is a moment that you can be heard. By me…by God…maybe even by
yourself. You came in here because you were looking for that moment, and I
can give it to you. So please. Stay.”
She let out a long breath. “I just…the things that are weighing on me, I
don’t know if I should tell them to anyone. Much less to you.”
“Because I’m a man? Would you feel more comfortable talking to a female
lay minister before you talked to me?”
“No, not because you’re a man.” I heard the smile in her voice. “Because
you’re a priest.”
I decided to guess. “Are the things weighing on you of a carnal nature?”
“Carnal.” She laughed, and it was breathy, rich music. I suddenly found
myself wondering what she looked like—whether she was fair or tanned,
whether she was curvy or slender, whether her lips were delicate or full.
No. I needed to focus. And not on the way her voice made me suddenly
feel much more man than priest.
“Carnal,” she repeated. “That sounds like such a euphemism.”
“You can be as general as you would like to be. This is not meant to make
you uncomfortable.”
“The screen helps,” she admitted. “It’s easier to not see you, with, you
know, the robes and stuff while I’m talking.”
Now I laughed. “We don’t wear the robes all the time, you know.”
“Oh. Well, there goes my mental image. What are you wearing, then?”
“A long-sleeved black shirt with a white collar. You know the kind. The
kind you see on TV. And jeans.”
“Jeans?”