A week had passed with no reply from Kathy and John was feeling very anxious. He didn't want to delay writing to Gail and give her the impression that she had done something wrong. He spent so much time praying that his knees were starting to ache, but it was seeming like a lost cause. Gail was starting to appear in his dreams. He always woke up before anything inappropriate could happen, but it was disconcerting all the same.

"Good morning, Father," Klinger said in a chipper voice as Mulcahy strolled in the office. Klinger noticed the dark smudges under John's eyes and his brow creased with worry. "Gee, Father, are you okay? You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"It doesn't feel as though I have." Mulcahy replied with a sigh. "Has the mail arrived today? I've been expecting a letter from my sister."

"I'm afraid nothing's come in for you, Father. Sorry."

John sighed again. "Oh, it's alright, Klinger. I'm sure she must be busy."

Mulcahy strolled back into the hallway and debated what to do. He couldn't put Gail off another day. He would have to write a response to her, but for now, he had duties to attend.

"Excuse me, Father," a woman's voice sounded at his right and John looked over to see the black and white habit belonging to a nun. "I was wondering if you might tell me where I could find my brother. It seems he's in quite a tricky situation."

"Kathy!" Mulcahy reached for his sister, dragging her into a warm embrace. "Oh, Kathy, you have no idea how wonderful it is to see you."

"Oh, Francis, it's good to see you as well." Kathy smiled. "When I got your letter, I thought it best that we discuss the situation face-to-face. I remember how troubled you were the first time you experienced this with Gail. Have you written to her yet?"

"No," John told her, leading her towards his private quarters so they could talk. "I honestly don't know what to say. The obvious solution seemed to be not to say anything at all, but I cannot go on avoiding the subject."

"Indeed not," Kathy agreed, sitting on the edge of John's bed as he sat at his desk. Her eyes fell to the picture displayed on his desk. "Is that her?"

John glanced at the picture before picking it up and passing it to his sister. "Yes, this is Gail."

"She's quite pretty, Francis. And young. How old is she?"

"27." John said with a sigh.

"Very young," Kathy said with a smirk before passing the picture back.

"I don't know what to do, Kath. I've prayed and prayed for strength, but now I've started to dream about her. It isn't right…it isn't holy."

"Dear brother," Kathy said with a fond smile, "We may be God's messengers, but we are still human. We are not exempt from experiencing thoughts of love or desire. If we were, we would never feel tested in our vows of celibacy."

"What helped you get through it, Kathy?"

"Free will." Kathy replied. "God's one true gift to us all. I knew that I had a choice to leave the church, to pursue the life of a wife and mother, to raise a family in His eyes. So, I considered that choice very carefully. It is not a sin to think about the possibilities, Francis. Only when we can entertain the thought are we truly free to make our choice. For me, I felt that it was not the right time. I felt that I still needed to be in His service at the church and so I stayed. I understand your vows as a priest, your promise to abstain from any romantic attachments, but you cannot ignore those feelings altogether, Francis. God has put Gail in your life for a reason. It is not coincidence that she has chosen now to contact you. This is Divine Intervention."

"Do you think I should tell her about my struggle?"

"It involves her, does it not? Perhaps she can help you find a way to resolve those feelings. Perhaps she no longer has the same affections she once did."

"But perhaps she does?"

"Then perhaps instead of praying for strength, you need to pray for clarity." Kathy told him, reaching out to put a hand on his knee. "We must endure our trials, Francis, if we are to grow in our faith."

While John had his doubts, what Kathy was saying was true.

"Write to her, Francis." Kathy encouraged. "I will go around and visit the patrons today in your place."

John watched Kathy leave his room, closing the door behind her. He drew out yet another sheet of paper as he considered exactly what to say, offering a small prayer to the man upstairs as he put the pen to paper.

Dear Gail,

I apologize for the lateness of this letter and hope that I have not caused any undue worry by my non-response, but the truth of the matter is that I have had quite a difficult time in finding the right words to say.

There is something that I must confess to you that I have kept secret for the last few years. Something which I thought I had overcome, but ultimately realize that I have not.

The truth is, Gail, that on that night two years ago when we were alone in my tent…I realized that I, too, cared a great deal for you. In essence, the affections you held for me then were not completely one-sided. I was very ashamed of myself for allowing my guard down in such a way, because a man in my position has a certain set of divine laws to live by. One such law, as you already know, is the vow of chastity. We priests are to know love only in the divine sense of the word; the love of God. Through that love comes the three earthly loves—Eros, Philos, and Agape. Eros, the physical or romantic aspect of love is the type of love that is forbidden to priests. Philos is a love based on friendship (Philadelphia is literally translated to the City of Brotherly Love). Agape love is the highest form of love; unconditional love. It is this type of love that we find in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 " 4Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, 5Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; 6Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; 7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. 8Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away."

When you left the 4077th, I thought that with you went my feelings for you. However, I am finding that is not the case. Each new letter has brought those feelings clearer and clearer into my mind and it would be irresponsible of me to act as if they do not exist. I have sought the council of my sister Kathy, as she has often struggled with this very issue, and she advised me to write to you honestly about the way I feel.

I care for you, Gail. What that means for me, I am uncertain. Certainly I cannot act upon such amorous feelings, but Kathy has advised me to acknowledge them at the very least. This is my trial, and there is nothing required of you. In fact, I feel most guilty for my admission; mostly for being untrue to you for so long. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I do not wish to cease our correspondence, but the choice is ultimately yours. I shall bear you no enmity if you choose not to contact me again, but should you choose to reply, I hope that you feel you can be honest with me in return.

Candidly yours,

John

Mulcahy re-read the letter several times before he finally sealed it in the envelope and took it to the outgoing mail box in the clerk's office. When he found Kathy again, she was in his usual seat in the game room in the middle of a mean game of chess.

"Say, Father," one of the patients piped up. "She's a lot better than you."

"She should be," John smiled, not taking insult. "She's the one who taught me to play."

The game was over quickly, Kathy won of course, and the group of losers wandered off towards the cafeteria for lunch.

"Well?" Kathy said softly.

"It's finished and waiting to be picked up with the outgoing mail."

Kathy put a hand on John's shoulder. "Whatever her reply, John, you should be proud of yourself."

"It isn't me I need to worry about, Kath. What I want and what God wants for me are two different things, and this matter dances in dangerous territory which could get me excommunicated."

"Don't be dramatic, Francis," Kathy said reproachfully. "This is a matter between you, Gail and God. The Church need not know unless you find yourself incapable of your duties. Did you involve the church when you questioned your faith after you lost your hearing?"

"Well…no…"

"And were they involved when you drank yourself silly?"

"No." John said quietly.

"Even we sin, Francis." Kathy told him. "We repent and pray for ourselves, we go to confession like everyone else. This is not a shield against the human condition." She said tugging lighting on the cross around his neck.

"You're right, of course."

"Good, then let's have no more talk on the matter until you receive Gail's next letter. I'm in town for a week and I'd rather not see you moping around the whole time." Kathy teased lovingly.

John laughed. "What would you like to do while you're here?"


Gail hadn't known what to think after she read John's letter of confession. There were many things running through her head, and she had to admit they weren't very nice, even though she knew that wasn't fair to John. It was late in the evening, but Gail knew she wouldn't be able to write a decent reply until she cleared her head and really thought about what to say.

"I'm going for a walk," Gail announced to Sherri as she pulled on her trainers.

"It's getting dark," Sherri noted. "Should I come with?"

Gail considered it for a long minute, then decided that it might be nice to have someone else to bounce her thoughts off of. "Sure, if you'd like."

They didn't speak for several blocks, and finally Gail spoke. "I think he loves me."

"He?" Sherri asked confused, not aware of any prospects.

"Father Mulcahy. John." Gail supplied.

"Did he tell you that?"

"Not in so many words…or so few, more accurately. He said he had 'feelings' for me, that he 'cared' about me. Then he talked about the different types of love and how he wasn't allowed to experience romantic love. He quoted the Bible and he said that he thought I should know."

"Huh…"Sherri obviously had no idea what to say.

"I'm so angry with him. The way he reacted to me in Korea…he was so warm and genuine. And then I hugged him. I always thought I had deeply offended him, I felt so ashamed for having a crush on a priest! Like I was some kind of harlot that was going to hell just for thinking how attractive he was. When, really, he put up a wall between us because of how he felt about me! It's just…cruel. "

"Maybe he didn't know what to do."

"Yeah, he said as much. He said he buried the thoughts and feelings, but my writing to him now has brought it all back up like some kind of vomit."

"He said that? Boy, he really isn't very good with words, is he?"

"Well, he didn't say it quite like that. His letter was actually very thoughtful and apologetic. I know he feels deeply ashamed for not telling me about it, but it doesn't forgive the fact that he let me think it was all my fault."

"So what does he want? If he can't be in a relationship, why bring it up?"

"He didn't come out and say it, but I think he wants to know how I feel about him."

Sherri looked at Gail like the answer would change her life. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Gail sighed. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. It's like when you like a guy who doesn't like you back. You don't stop crushing on them, you just learn to move on, you know?"

"So you've 'moved on?'"

"I thought I had, but now I'm wondering if I was just kidding myself like he was. But what good does it do anyways? So what if I still care for him? It doesn't change the fact that he's a priest. It's not like our mutual attraction adds up to anything. He can't act on the feelings because of some dumb vow."

Sherri stopped and looked up at the building they were in front of, a Catholic church. She grabbed Gail's hand and tugged her towards the door. "Come on, let's ask someone higher up some rhetorical questions."

"NO!" Gail pulled back. "I can't go in and talk to a priest about this! It's bad enough I've got to figure out what to say to John."

"Maybe if you hear the opinion of some other priest, it might help you figure out what to say."

Gail had to agree that there was some logic to that and so she allowed Sherri to pull her inside and lead her to the confessional booth. Gail wasn't Catholic, she didn't know how this was supposed to work, but she and Sherri crammed into the small confessional and waited.

"How are they going to know I'm here?" Gail asked in a whisper.

"They'll know," Sherri whispered back.

After a long moment, the partition between their booth and the booth where the priest sat slid open.

"'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.'" The Father's voice was soft but full of conviction and Gail gulped, she had no idea what to say.

"Bless us, Father, for we have sinned. It has been several years since my last confession, and my friend has never confessed but is in great need of guidance." Sherri supplied. Gail looked at her oddly, not realizing that Sherri was, or had been, Catholic.

"Typically the confessional is reserved for one person at a time, but in this case, I shall make an exception. What troubles you, child?"

"Forgive me, Father," Gail found herself saying, "But can you explain to me why priests are forbidden to love? Romantically speaking."

"When a man applies to the priesthood, he is required to take certain vows to ensure that he will live a life of servitude to Lord God, the Almighty Father. Love between a man and a women is only one such vow that a priest must make, but it is required for one very simple reason. A man of the cloth has a responsibility to serve God, to care for his church and patrons, to spread the word of God and do His works. A man who weds has a responsibility to his wife, children, and household. A priest who must divide his obligations between God and family cannot fully serve the Father. One or the other would ultimately be neglected. We take the vow of chastity so that we may refrain from temptations of the flesh. It serves as a reminder that our lives belong to God."

"What would happen if a priest found himself romantically attracted to a woman?"

"He would need to repent and pray for forgiveness and the strength not to give in to his worldly desires. All men, even priests, feel the pull of temptations. The Devil certainly wants to corrupt God's servants. What is important is to uphold the sanctity of his vows and the office which he serves so that the Devil does not win."

"Father," Sherri asked, "What happens if a priest finds himself unable to keep his vows? What if he ever wanted to get married?"

"Then that man would no longer be allowed to serve as a priest in the Catholic Church."

"What would the church do to him?" Gail asked, feeling sick.

"You ask of punishment? My child, no one, not even the Pope, can remove the indelible sacramental mark of Holy Orders from anyone, but the priest would be deemed as no longer able to perform the sacred rites and duties of his office. He would lose any parish he might have. As all ordained officials of the church are required to take a vow of celibacy, it is possible that he would not be allowed to serve the church in any capacity, though recently the church has sometimes offered such men to serve in the Order of Deacon. Such a decision is made on a case-by-case basis, however."

"What's the difference between a Priest and a Deacon?" Sherri asked.

"Sacramentally speaking, a deacon is an ordinary minister of Baptism, and can serve as the official witness to marriage. A deacon may also read the Gospel and preach at Mass. Deacons are also ordinary ministers of communion. Only a priest can celebrate Mass, offer absolution of sins in the Sacrament of Penance, and Anoint the Sick."

Gail sighed, "Father, I find myself in a very delicate situation in which a friend of mine—a Priest—has confessed to having 'amorous feelings' for me. He has said he has no intention to act on them, but thought that I should know, and though he did not directly ask, I feel as though he's expecting me to say whether or not I have feelings for him as well. I really don't know what to do. I don't want him to be in trouble with God or the Church because of anything I might say."

"I see," The Father said slowly, obviously thinking of a delicate response. "To lie to your friend would be to mislead him as he walks this path, my child, but I can understand the strain you must be feeling. You must be true to yourself and to your friend and allow him to fight his own personal battle. You have not given me his name, so unless he confesses himself, the Church will never know of whom you speak."

"Father…if he did ultimately choose me over the priesthood…the church wouldn't…hate him, would they?"

"Hate is not a teaching of Jesus Christ, my child." The Father said gently. "Each man is called upon in different ways and God may be speaking to him through you, calling him to a life away from the priesthood. Only he can know what is right for him. The Church must protect the sanctity of its offices by not allowing him to continue in his office, but they will not persecute him for his decisions."

"Thank you, Father."

"In the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I absolve you from your sins. Go in peace, my children."

As Gail and Sherri left the church in silence, Gail's head was buzzing with what to say to John. The priest had advised her to speak the truth, but what was the truth? Right at that moment, she didn't know.

"I'm really angry at him for putting me through this," Gail told Sherri as they headed back to their apartment.

It was Kathy's last day of her visit, and still John had not received anything from Gail, though he wasn't too shocked. It had probably taken a few days for his own letter to arrive, and even if she'd written back straight away, it would take another few days for her letter to get to him. Kathy hadn't let him dwell on the thought of Gail too much. Instead, she had helped him involve himself more with the patients. They'd started a ping pong tournament that had lasted well into the previous night and had been quite fun for all involved.

Now, as Kathy was packing her belongings, John was sad to see her go.

"How I wished we lived closer," he murmured to her as he leaned against the door frame of the spare room she'd been using.

"So do I," Kathy replied with a soft smile. "Having you close always warms my heart, little brother. If you ever do decide to leave this place, I hope you'll come home to Philadelphia to be near me."

"I wouldn't dream of going anywhere else," John smiled.

"Call me when you get her reply, Francis."

"If it's worth calling about."

"It will be." Kathy said surely. "For what it's worth, Francis, I think you'd make a fine husband and father should you choose that path."

John crossed the room and hugged his sister tightly. "I love you, Kath."

"And I love you, Francis."

They pulled back and smiled at one another before a knock sounded on the open door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Klinger said gently, "but the cab is here to take you to the airport, Sister."

"Thank you, Maxwell. I shall be along shortly."

"Take care, Kathy."

"You as well, Francis."

John watched his sister leave the room, allowing himself several moments of peaceful silence before he stepped back into the hall and down towards the wards.


When Gail's letter arrived that Saturday, John had been in the middle of preparing for his sermon the following day. It had taken all his will power to set her letter aside in order to finish the final revisions, mark the passages, and pray. When he was satisfied that he was prepared, he moved to his bed with the envelope. It felt thicker than her previous correspondences, and he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. He decided it didn't matter either way. Her answer was in his hands.

Carefully, John tore the seal and pulled out the folded pages within. He took a deep breath as he unfolded them, then slowly began to read.

Dearest John,

I hope that you will bear with me as I write this letter because I have so many things I want to say, and they're all so jumbled in my head that I'm not sure how to get them out coherently.

I was very surprised by your confession, and very angry. Not angry with how you feel, but angry with the fact that two years ago you made me feel horrible about how I felt. I was so embarrassed and devastated and felt like a complete fool. I remember feeling like a laughing stock, like you were telling the whole camp about the girl with the crush on you. I know you didn't talk about it other than to Hawkeye, but when he came to me, I was so ashamed that I figured you must have told everyone. You should have told me then, John. You should have said something so that I didn't feel so alone and alienated by you.

I was so angry that I ended up going for a walk to try and burn off some anger and cool my head before I wrote you back. I didn't want to say something I would later regret. Sherri went with me, and we ended up outside a Catholic Church. She had asked me what I intended to say to you when I wrote you and I told her I didn't have a clue, so she pulled me into the church and we talked to one of the priests. I asked him to explain to me why priests are forbidden from experiencing romantic love and why you aren't allowed to marry. He told me very plainly the reasoning behind it, and I understood. Next, I asked him what might happen to a priest who chose a married life over the priesthood, and it made me sick to my stomach, to be honest.

John, I feel I'm damned either way in this situation. If you ever decided to act on your feelings for me, you would be forced to step down from your position and there is no guarantee you'd be allowed to remain in the service of the church. The Father I spoke to said the church sometimes makes exceptions in situations like these and will allow the priest to serve as a Deacon, but there is no clear guideline on what they might do. I could never live with myself knowing that I was responsible for any of that. Not being Catholic, I'm at a disadvantage to knowing what everything means, but I think I know you well enough to know that the priesthood is where you belong. You've spent your entire life, it seems, working towards that goal, and who am I to come into your life and ruin it all for you?

The Father we spoke to told me that I should be honest in what I say to you, which is a no brainer to me. After the candidness you expressed in your last letter, it would be unfair of me not to do the same. I just want you to know that what I say, I say with much trepidation…

My feelings for you have remained unchanged over the past two years. I have always cared so deeply for you, John. But after that night, I knew I couldn't act on my feelings any more than you could act on yours. Your friendship was worth so much to me and I knew that if I couldn't love you the way I wanted to, I could at least be a very good friend. I knew that was all I could hope for from you. Now, though, I'm at a loss on what to hope for or expect.

If you know I have amorous feelings in return for you, what will you do? What can you do? I'm sure going on a date certainly isn't an option. It's not as though we can try on a relationship to see if we're compatible like normal people might do. And I'm sure you wouldn't risk leaving the priesthood on the off chance that things would work in our favor. There are so many questions, John, so much to consider. I'm still in medical school, I have a residency to complete after that. You have duties as a Chaplain at the VA. What happens if you take the chance and realize one day you've made a terrible mistake? What happens if you don't take the chance and we both realize we've made a horrible mistake?

I just really don't know what good my telling you how I feel is going to do, other than satisfy your own curiosity on the matter. There have been several times over the past few years where I have thought to myself, "Why did he have to be a priest?" I wish you weren't at times, but I'm glad you are. I know how much you've helped people—myself included—and I wouldn't deny any of them that moment for my own selfish desires.

I keep trying to imagine what it might be like if you left the priesthood, and it simply makes me angry with you all over again. I don't want to be the deciding factor for you, I don't want to be the basket you put all your eggs in. This is really unfair of you, John. As much as I don't want to say this, as much as I know it's going to break my heart again, I promised to be honest with you.

The truth, Francis John Patrick Mulcahy, is that I love you. I think I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you, and I grew to love you more and more each day. Knowing you care for me does make me very happy, but also very sad as I wonder where we go from here. I expect you have a lot to think and pray about. I have my own thinking to do, as well.

I will wait to hear from you and I will respect whatever decision you make, John. If I never have another chance to tell you how I feel; if this is my only window of opportunity, then so be it. I suppose at least now I know how you feel.

With love,

Gail

John released the breath he'd been holding. So there it was. She loved him. He honestly didn't know how he felt about that revelation. The guilt was still there, of course. Hearing her say just how angry she was with him hurt, but he knew he deserved her ire. She was right, he should have said something back then, but at the time he thought that would just make things worse for both of them. He was also impressed that she'd gone to talk to a priest. It was quite thoughtful, really, that she wanted to make an informed decision in telling him how she felt.

But now, the ball was again in his court. He had to figure out if he planned to pursue a life with her, or simply accept their mutual affection and continue on with his life as he knew it. She was right, he had a lot of prayer ahead of him.

Checking the small clock on his desk, John saw that it was nearly 10pm. He wondered if Kathy might still be awake. She had asked for him to call when he got Gail's letter. After a moment's debate, Mulcahy slid off his bed and headed towards the clerk's office. None of the regular staffers worked on weekends, so he knew it would just be the few ladies at the reception desk.

"Good evening, Father," one of the young women smiled at the priest. "You're up late tonight."

"Oh, yes, getting ready for tomorrow's service," John smiled. "I was hoping I might trouble you for a favor, Caroline."

"Anything, Father. What can I do for you?"

"Would you mind to let me into Max Klinger's office for a few minutes? I need to make a personal call."

"Sure, but if anyone asks, I have no idea what you're talking about," Caroline winked and reached in a drawer for her keys, coming around the desk and leading the priest to Klinger's small office a few doors down.

"Thank you," John said softly. "I'll be sure to lock it behind me."

"Goodnight, Father."

John closed the door as the woman headed back to the reception desk, then sat at Klinger's desk and picked up the phone.

"Yes, operator, I'd like to place a call to St. Cecelia's Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania."

After several moments, the call was connected.

"St. Cecelia's Church, this is Sister Maria Sabina."

"Good Evening, Sister. I apologize for calling so very late. This is Father Francis Mulcahy, I was hoping to speak with Sister Maria Angelica if I could."

"Good evening, Father. Yes, of course. I shall send for her straight away."

Several long minutes of silence passed and John drummed his fingers on the desk nervously as he thought about what Gail had said in her letter.

"Francis?"

"Kathy," John said with a smile. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, of course not. When have you ever known me to be an early sleeper? I'm guessing Gail has written?"

"Oh yes…"

"And? Don't keep me in suspense. What did she say?"

"Well, she was quite angry with me for not admitting I had feelings for her back then."

"Naturally."

"And she went to speak with a priest to ask what might happen to me if anything ever became us."

"Really?" Kathy sounded surprised. "It was good of her to do so. She must really care about you, Francis. What else did she say?"

"She said she still cares for me. That she…loves me. Only, now I've made it quite complicated for her. She said she would feel responsible for my leaving the priesthood if I chose to have a physical relationship with her. I didn't mean to put that kind of pressure on her, Kath. I honestly didn't."

"Of course you didn't, dear brother. What do you intend to do now?"

"I have no idea. I certain can't make any rash decisions about this."

"I should think not," Kathy said with an amused tone. "Francis, why don't you go on a Sabbatical? Things have been so hard for you since you came back from Korea. The drinking…the surgery…Gail… You need time to be alone with God for a while and really renew your spirit. It will give you time to listen to God without the interruptions of your day-to-day life."

"Yes…I think you might be right. I can't expect to make a sound decision about anything if I'm not in the right place spiritually."

"If there is anything I can do, you'll let me know?"

"Of course." John smiled softly. "Thank you, Kathy. You always have the best advice."

"I'm your big sister; it's my job."


Gail was in the middle of studying for one of her upcoming finals when Sherri came in with the mail, dropping a letter on the open pages. Gail recognized John's handwriting right away. She bit her lip and looked up at Sherri, debating whether or not she should open it.

"Don't look at me," Sherri said. "You know you're going to open it."

Gail sighed and pressed the letter against her chest as if the small hug would make everything better. She took a deep breath and opened the letter, disappointed to find a shorter than normal response.

Dear Gail,

Thank you for your honesty. I deeply regret ever having hurt you, or making you feel alienated. Never was that my intention. I want you to know how much it means to me hearing you say that you do still care for me and I will do my very best to weigh my decision carefully.

I certainly don't wish for you to feel that if I do leave the church that it would be your fault in any way. The choices I make are mine, and mine alone. I have been feeling less and less at peace with my position as a priest. I think my attraction to you is just one more piece to add to my list of grievances to take up with God, not that being attracted to you is bad thing. The only bad part of it is not being able to do anything about it.

I've decided to go on Sabbatical for the next few weeks. That means that I will effectively cut myself off from any outside communications and go some place where I can be alone with myself and God. I think I have needed to this for some time now, and my hope is that I will find an answer as to what my future holds. I wish I could give you more to go on than that, but even I don't know at this point what will happen or how I will feel about anything at the end of my journey.

I know your final exams must be coming up shortly, and I wish you good luck on them, though I'm quite certain you will pass with flying colors. I will write to you as soon as I return.

I shall miss you.

Fide et amore,

John

"Fide et amore…" Gail murmured, trying to wrack her brain to translate the saying. Fides had to do with faith. Amor was love. Faith and Love? That sounded like something John would say. She smiled despite herself. Maybe he hadn't said it directly, or even in English, but she supposed until he figured things out that was the closest John Mulcahy would come to telling her he loved her too.


TBC