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A Few Days in April
Chapter 8
"I've always said you were the smartest person I've ever known."
Sara gave a soft laugh. "A priest—your wonderful man is a priest!" Reaching over, she patted Paula's arm. "I'm not going to judge you! If you are happy—if he's happy—if you get to see each other. You do get to see each other, right? I mean, you don't go to church and sit in a pew, do you?"
Paula laughed. "How did I forget how practical you are?" She turned to Sara, reached out and hugged her. "I knew when I said there was a man, you wouldn't let it go," she laughed. "I don't go to his church and yes, we do see each other."
"A priest—how'd you—how did you actually get together?" Sara made a motion with her hands, saying "What with the vow of celibacy and all of that?"
"Celibacy was not a problem—by the time we met the second time, we knew what we were doing," she laughed. "Only I didn't know he was a priest." She threw her head back and exhaled a breath, puffing her cheeks out as she did. "Once I did know—it really didn't matter at that point—I didn't care if we got married!" She glanced at Sara. "I'd already had the dress and the bridesmaids!"
"Are you happy?"
Paula's smile was an answer. "Yes, we are. I—I realized that he loves God—his profession—more than he loves me and I'm fine with that." Softly, she laughed. "I've heard all that stuff about commitment between husbands and wives—I know he his first love—as well as his second—and I'm second. We enjoy being together, Sara." She paused. "I wish you could meet him one day."
"So do I—maybe I will." Laughing, Sara stood up. "Come on, let's try the bed swing."
They removed several toys, smoothed wrinkles out of the padding and arranged pillows on both ends.
"You sure this is going to hold both of us?"
"It holds all seven of us!" Sara stretched out. The bed moved.
"How do I get in?" Paula grabbed a rope and jumped. The bed swayed and both women laughed. Paula wiggled and twisted until she was stretched facing Sara. "This is neat! Like a hammock only better!"
For a few minutes, they were quiet as they let the bed settle into a gentle swing.
"Okay, tell me more about Mr. Wonderful Man who happens to be a priest. I don't think you live together."
Paula shook her head. "No, we don't live together. He lives in a clergy-church house. I never visit him at his church or his house. We've got a nice arrangement—he visits my place and we manage to vacation together—we've been to Europe, Asia. He does not wear a priest collar when we are together." Paula laughed, "Can't believe I'm telling you this! Sara Sidle, one man since the day you met him! Married to the bug man with five little kids and living next door to nuns!" She hooted with laughter. "There has got to be a lot you are not telling me about this!"
Their laughter brought Grissom to the porch. "You two are having too much fun without me," he said as he walked to the swing, sitting in the middle and giving a strong push. "It's a beautiful night out here—now include me in the story!" Jokingly, he smirked, "Unless the story is about me—then I'll leave."
Soon, with her story-telling skills, Paula was telling about her work, adding anecdotes that had Sara and Grissom laughing. She described how companies, large and small, tried to outwit laws and regulations, exaggerating certain aspects and providing animation as she talked.
At some point, Sara left the bed and joined Grissom on the swing. Gradually, their conversation turned to the night, the scented sweetness of the beginning of spring, the sounds of the night far away from urban areas.
"I'm so happy I came today but I must get some sleep," Paula said. "Sara, I don't remember why we lost touch—young, careers, a divorce, chasing rainbows, who knows—but I've always remembered the days we were roommates with such fun. It was a magical time." She laughed and got up from the swinging bed. "You two have that same kind of magic—from head to toe—flourishing—neither of you appear to have aged a day since that wedding weekend!" She waggled fingers to quote her last words.
Both grunted as they straightened limbs and stood.
"I feel older," Sara groaned.
"If you need anything, just give a shout," Grissom said, holding the door for both women. "No one will bother you and it is quieter upstairs."
Sara leaned against his shoulder. Grissom wrapped an arm around her waist; his expression turned tender as he pressed lips against Sara's dark hair.
"Look at you two! Five kids and you are still in love!"
Grissom kissed Sara's cheek. She grinned, waving as Paula headed upstairs.
A dozen things needed to be checked or done before Grissom burrowed underneath bedcovers, pulling Sara close. "Tell me about Paula. I know I missed something—there was too much laughing going on."
"She has a job she enjoys and her significant other is a priest," Sara said in a whisper. She heard a low chuckle.
Grissom lightly kissed her before saying, "As in Catholic priest?"
"Yep."
"She's happy—or appears to be."
Softly, Sara laughed. "Yes, I think she's happy."
"A priest!" Grissom chuckled again, "How does one fall in love with a priest?" Another chuckle. "Never mind—popes, bishops, and priests married for centuries."
"I've always heard that."
He kissed Sara's shoulder. "I never wanted to be a priest."
His comment caused a cascade of giggles from Sara as his arms folded around her body. He continued to hold her as she tucked closely against his body; in the quietness, Sara realized the simple prolonged touch of her husband, his steady, peaceful breathing warming her neck, was enough to put her to sleep.
Saturday came to the Grissom household in a series of soft whispers and muffled sounds that gently brought Sara out of a sound sleep. She heard the swish of cloth, the muted padding of small feet, the murmur of one child shushing another one. Her eyes remained closed as she listened to the familiar and consistent breathing of her husband—whose head was hidden deep beneath a pillow and bedcovers. She shifted her position and opened one eye.
Ava and Annie stood inches from the bed—two heads of curly blonde hair shimmered with gold in the early morning light; two pairs of round blue eyes scrutinized her with such intensity that identical tiny creases wrinkled each forehead.
She opened both eyes and smiled. Ava's mouth smiled around a finger; her sister did not smile but kept a small finger firmly stuck in her nose.
"Good morning, girls," Sara whispered. She reached a hand to Annie. "Why is that finger up your nose?"
The finger came out of the nose and went into her mouth.
"I'm wet," Annie whispered, her chin trembled slightly.
Sara pushed up, swinging her feet to the floor. "We'll get you dry, sweetie." She patted the bed. "Ava, do you want to cuddle with Daddy?"
Ava leaned closer, shaking her head as an answer, saying in a whisper, "Paula on the porch." Neither girl pronounced 'l' and 'Paula' came out as 'Pauwa'.
Sara smiled; their guest was a greater attraction than an early morning snuggle with dad.
"She is? We'll get dry clothes for Annie and join her," Sara suggested. She put on her robe and turned back to the bed to arrange covers and pillows around Grissom.
"Sister Deborah brought muffins and talked to Paula," Ava said, still whispering, as the three left the bedroom.
Sara knew it would not be long before the entire household was awake; the sun was up and the children would remember it was Saturday. The morning sun already peeking around covered windows promised a breathtaking spring morning, warm and full of promise.
Ava and Annie dressed quickly. Sara removed the damp bed sheets, covered Bizzy, checked on Will and Eli, and put the sheets in the laundry before she and the twins headed to the porch to find Paula.
"Good morning!"
Paula returned the greeting and turned her attention to Ava and Annie for a few minutes; both little girls quickly warmed to their guest.
The morning sun threw a soft silken illumination over the front porch; a bird in the twisting vines along the porch poured out a tranquil song. The sounds and sensations of spring had arrived, Sara thought.
"You have a beautiful place, Sara! I've met two of your neighbors—and they brought muffins!" Paula indicated a large basket covered with a cloth on a small table. She laughed, "And you are right—Sister Deborah and Wanda are very nice!"
While Sara made coffee, Paula poured milk for the girls. In minutes, the noise and laughter from the kitchen and dining table had the others awake and before the muffins had cooled, everyone was eating, talking, and making excited plans for the day.
"First, let me show off my bees," Grissom suggested as the two women began to talk about walking to the neighbors.
Paula laughed. "He is a bug man, isn't he!"
A/N: Again, thank you for supporting us by reading and your reviews! Two more chapters to come!
