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I’m sputtering up at this. How the fuck can he know?
“There was only ever going to be one reason you would leave the church. That reason is love. It’s a funny thing, love. You can have all kinds. Love toward me, your ma, this faith, and the communities you serve, but there is a rarer kind of love that most people falsely think they have found time and time again. I knew that if you found true love, you would hold onto it because that is what you have always needed the most.”
“True love is what I’ve needed the most?” I ask bewildered.
Patrick has a small smile, allowing the wrinkles around his face to show his happiness. Shaking his head, he continues.
“Yes and no, my boy. What you’ve needed is a partner who believes in you enough for both of you. So much that you start to believe in yourself too.”
That’s it, isn’t it? Yes, I am attracted to Avery beyond belief, but her warmth and tender heart are what have me changing my entire life.
“So, when I called you, you assumed I was coming up here to tell you I was laicizing?”
“Lachlan, you so rarely call. Something big had to be the reason why you would be coming up to Boston and finally deciding to see your ma again after all these years.”
It’s true, and I know it, but that doesn’t make me feel any less shameful.
“I’m sorry,” I answer, hanging my head slightly.
“God and I both forgive you for your sin,” he chuckles.
I return my gaze to his attention, running my hand through my hair.
“Now go. See that ma of yours and do a better job of staying in touch with this old man,” he finishes.
I finally reach for my scotch and gulp it down. We both stand at the same time before embracing in a hug.
“Thank you.”
I break away first and begin to head out the door.
“Lachlan.”
I turn around to face him.
“Some words of advice before you go. Just because you will no longer be a priest does not mean you cannot continue to have God in your life.”
I understand what he means. I can still try to be a good man, but this time it will be for Avery and myself, for our future, not because of the guilt that haunts me.
“There is a reason why most weddings share the reading from the book of the Corinthians. 1 Corinthians 13 specifically. Love is patient, and it is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Keep that in mind as you move forward. You deserve happiness, Lachlan. You always have.”
My eyes are beginning to well with tears. Fuck. I haven’t cried since that day on the steps of the church. Now, these tears are for an entirely different reason.
I am going to give happiness a chance.
The drive out to my ma’s house is about an hour outside of Boston. It’s a small seaside town on the coast of Massachusetts.
She stayed in my childhood home long after I left and stopped visiting. It’s her personal sanctuary. A place to be reminded of the good memories we shared as a family.
I’ve been a selfish bastard wasting these years without her. What would my da say if he knew I had all but abandoned her? She needed love just as much as I did. Instead, I left her to fend for herself.
I won’t do that to her anymore.
Pulling up to my ma’s home is bringing back more memories than I can probably handle.
The first time my da taught me to carve a small wooden cup, and Christmases where my ma went over the top even though it was just the three of us. Even the memory of breaking my arm, trying to climb the largest tree in my front yard.
How long has it been since I came back here, really? Too long.
