If I closed my eyes I could almost hear the music of the early morning service. I would always go to church in the early morning, long before any of the families with children would rise. I went to the early mass because that was when Vera would go.
She would attend without her family, but would be joined by her friend, the one who aspired both to be a mother and a nun. They would sit together near the in the middle of the pews, and I would take my spot behind them, slightly to the left, nearer to the aisle. We would stand sit and kneel in succession, never really knowing what the priest was saying. Vera and her friend would whisper under the priests heavy Latin, and the old woman would mutter the rosary in near the back of the church.
When mass had ended, just as it had been for the past two years, Vera's friend would turn around to me, and in her sultry, would be nun voice say, "How about some coffee Robert?"
I would smile and offer her my arm in a pantomime of every other Sunday, "My pleasure Susan." She would smile and blush and our heavy wool overcoats with slide roughly together. Vera would laugh and take hold of my other arm and we would leave St. Paul's church, and head to the corner café.
I would buy the coffees and the girls would pay for the doughnuts and we would jokingly fight over the warmest one, finally splitting it three ways in the end.
Susan would smile at me warmly, and gaze at me with soft brown eyes. "You should sit with us next week Robert, It's always so cold in there."
"You should get use to it if you're going to be nuns," Vera teased, "If you think the church is cold, imagine the convent. "
We laughed quietly at our table, and finished our coffees. Afterwards I would walk them home, first dropping off Susan, who would kiss me as we reached her doorstep, before disappearing inside. Then I would turn to Vera, and we would walk down the street, hand in hand, each trying to calm the fire within our guts.
Families past us on the street, heading to St. Paul's, kept us from going any farther than her doorstep.
"Good Bye Vera." I would say, and she would look at me with eyes both uncaring and desirous, and she would whisper. "Good bye Bob Leckie."
I would turn around and walk across the street, and when I would turn back around to catch her eye one last time, all I would see was her shadow in the window and her hand pressed up against the frosty glass.
On Pellilu when I closed my eyes I could almost hear the music of the early morning service. Back in New Jersey, I would always go to church in the early morning, long before any of the families with children would rise. I went to the early mass because that was when Vera would go.
She would attend with her family, and would be joined by her friend, the one who aspired both to be a mother and a nun. They would sit together near the in the middle of the pews, and I would take my spot behind them, slightly to the left, nearer to the aisle. We would stand sit and kneel in succession, and I would watch the girl's hair rustle. Vera and her friend would whisper under the priest's heavy Latin, while Vera's mother murmured the rosary under her breath.
When mass had ended, just as it had been for the past two years, Vera and her family would stand up, and walk past me out of the church.
-Finals are ALMOST DONE! WHOOT