Grace

Author:Chafer, Lewis Sperry [Chafer, Lewis Sperry]
Language: eng
Format: azw
Publisher: Taft Software, Inc.
Published: 2008-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Erica was so late there was no point heading to the Mayflower to meet Father Michael. She had effectively stood him up after telling him she would meet him for coffee on Monday, but she’d been out so late the night before with Clay. He’d taken her to St. Casimir’s in the middle of the night, which is where he put together his underground papers, and they’d spent the night printing the next issue, in between the teasing and the flirting, which had finally overtaken them both, and they’d ended up clearing the workspace.

They’d missed one of the papers though. It had gotten stuck to the small of her back. She still had the reversed image of downtown Detroit in smudged ink on her skin.

All of which explained why she had overslept, right through her alarm, but she couldn’t relate any of that to Father Michael. She just hoped he was in his office at the church. She took the steps two at a time, opening the entry doors, stopping to cross herself out of habit before going off to search for him.

Father Michael’s office was through the vestibule to the left. She had to go through the front office first, a glassed-in area where the church secretaries worked. There were two of them sitting at their desks behind the counter. Erica stepped up to it, clearing her throat. The secretary closest to her looked up—the other one had some sort of earphones on, typing away, oblivious—frowning at the interruption.

“Can I help you?”

“Is Father Michael in?” Erica tried to sound casual, like she came in here all the time asking to see Father Michael, although the secretary probably knew that wasn’t true.

“Is he expecting you?”

He was, about five hours ago…

“I thought I heard your voice!” Father Michael opened his office door, smiling when he saw Erica standing behind the counter. “It’s fine, Gertie. Come on in my office, Erica.”

Erica smiled at the secretary as she edged by her desk, feeling the woman’s eyes on her as she slipped by Father Michael into his office. He closed the door behind them, looking down at her, still giving her that big, bright smile. She’d stood him up, and here she was five hours late, and still he was glad to see her.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she apologized. “Planning Leah’s wedding is taking up all my time.”

It was as good of an excuse as any she could think of and slipped easily out of her mouth.

“I missed you. But I’m glad you came here to find me.” Father Michael leaned on his cane as he moved around to the other side of his desk. “Go ahead, have a seat.”

Erica slid into one of the two big leather chairs across from him.

“The Mayflower is cozier, isn’t it?”

“This is fine.” Erica looked around, taking in the clutter on his desk, the bookshelves that took up one entire wall, the pictures of the Madonna and child, a large cross and a calendar with the days marked off in red.

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