Love by Its First Name by Don Hanley

Author:Don Hanley [Don Hanley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: na
Publisher: Top Reads Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

You are a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in distress,

A shelter from the storm, a shade from the heat…

Isaiah, 25:3-4

Jerry was standing in a room next to a church sacristy. There was a bed in the room and a dark-haired, naked woman was lying on it. He didn’t know the woman. She was quite beautiful and he was aroused. He started to take his jeans off and then remembered that he was supposed to concelebrate a Mass with the Bishop in a few minutes. The woman spread her legs and began to stroke her pelvic area. He didn’t have any black pants and he was sure the Bishop would be angry if he went out on the altar with jeans beneath his vestments. Maybe he could find a chasuble long enough to cover the jeans, he thought. The woman said something to him. He took off the jeans and then his shorts. He climbed onto the bed. There was a loud, impatient knock on the door. “Father Haloran, are you in there? Are you ready for the Mass?” The “Father Haloran” was repeated again and again and a woman began to say “Jerry” and again, “Jerry.” The female voice was pleasant but wasn’t the voice of the woman on the bed. He was sweating; he didn’t know what to do. He heard “Jerry” again and felt a woman touch his hand. Her hand was soft and sensual. He was mumbling something. What was he trying to say?

He opened his eyes. Rebecca was kneeling beside the sofa, holding his hand. She was wearing a rose-colored robe. He was sure he looked lost as he ran his free hand across his forehead. He looked at his hand. It was wet with sweat. Rebecca smiled. The blankets were bunched around his middle. Thank God. He raised himself up on one elbow and shook his head.

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah, pretty bad.”

Rebecca put a finger to her lips, made the “shh” sound and pointed at the top of stairs.

Jerry lowered his voice. “Good morning.”

“You were sweating up a storm and shaking your head and mumbling, ‘No, I can’t. No, I can’t.’ I was afraid you would wake up the girls. Do you remember what you couldn’t do?”

“Yes, er, maybe.” He felt shaky. Was it fear? Shame? He wasn’t sure. He’d have to wait to see if he could talk about it. He sniffed. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Yes, I’ll get you some.” Rebecca got up and headed for the kitchen.

He quickly got off the sofa and pulled on his jeans and shirt. He nearly knocked the cups out of Rebecca’s hands when he got to the door. “Oops, sorry. Let’s sit in the kitchen, okay?”

The table was round with a clear glass top and white legs. Rebecca sat down and scooted a chair out with her foot. Jerry sat down and put the cup to his lips. The coffee was very hot. He sipped it, watching Rebecca over the rim, attempting to distract himself from looking at her legs under the table.

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