HOPE'S CALLING – CHAPTER 25- THE CONFESSION

Hope returned to the VIP tent to change from pajamas into a uniform. When she opened the footlocker to retrieve the uniform she remembered the postcard from Charity. Once dressed, Hope tucked it in her shirt pocket. She headed to Klinger's office to find a magnifying glass because she'd certainly need it to read her sister's writing.

When she got to the office, Max wasn't there. She sat down at his desk, reached over and turned on the lamp. Hope held the postcard so close to her face that it touched her nose. She squinted and tried to read her sister's handwriting. There one only word she could make out. It was "Daddy". As much as she wanted to find a magnifying glass, Hope wasn't about to prowl around through the office to look for it. She stood up to leave and had made it to the door, when Colonel Potter came in.

"Hello Lieutenant, do you need help with something?"

"Yes sir, I do. I was hoping there was a magnifying glass lying around somewhere. I need one to read this." She showed him the postcard.

"My Lord, that writing's so tiny, it looks like a troop of ants marched across it and froze there. Who sent you this?" he asked her.

She chuckled. "My baby sister, Charity. Her motto is "why spring for a few sheets of paper and a first class stamp, when you can write it all on a penny postcard and make your sister blind in the process?"

"Hold on a minute, I think I've got a magnifying glass somewhere in my desk. Be right back."

The Colonel went in his office. While Hope stood beside Max's desk waiting on him, she heard drawers being opened and closed rather loudly, combined with a few words that shouldn't be heard at a Sunday school picnic.

He came out of his office with a triumphant look on his face. "Here you go. Maybe you'll be able to read that postcard now without going blind."

"Thank you, sir." She held up the magnifying glass. "I'll bring it back as soon as I'm finished reading the postcard."

Hope went over to the mess tent and found a table. She sat down and started reading the postcard. Most of the things that Charity had written about were pretty commonplace happenings in their little town. Hope read through it quickly until she got to the words "Daddy" and "angina". She put the postcard and the magnifying glass down. Why was Charity telling her this? Why hadn't she heard from her sister Faith, her mother or even Tommy about this?

She had been so focused on reading the postcard that she hadn't realized that anyone had come and sat down beside her.

"What's with the magnifying glass?" Hope looked up to see BJ sitting beside her.

She held up the postcard. "It's this, BJ. The magnifying glass is the only way to decipher what's written on it. See what I mean?"

She passed the postcard to him. He looked at one side, turned it over and looked at the other side. BJ handed it back to Hope. "Yeah, I sure do. You look worried. Did you get bad news?"

"I'm not sure if I should jump to conclusions from the two words," Daddy" and "angina", on this postcard. Charity is no dummy, just kind of flighty. If I could talk to my mom, my older sister, my cousin Tommy or Doc Williams, I'd feel better about it."

"Why don't you try to call one of them?" he suggested.

"I don't know BJ. I wonder if my dad told them not to tell me because I'm here and he doesn't want me to worry. He once told me if they gave out gold medals for worrying, I'd have one."

BJ chuckled, "You wouldn't be the only one Hope." The expression on his face suddenly became serious and his eyes misted. "There's not a second, a minute or an hour that I don't think about my family and wonder how they are."

Hope saw that look on his face. "Tell me about them."

He pulled a worn photo out of his pocket and handed it to Hope. It was a picture of a beautiful blonde young woman and an adorable little girl. She touched the faces on the photo. He pointed at the young woman. "That's my wife Peg." Then he moved his finger over to the little girl's face. "And that's my daughter Erin."

"Oh BJ, they're beautiful. You're so blessed." Hope handed the picture back to him.

"Yeah, don't I know it." He smiled and put the photo back in his pocket. "I constantly think about them when I'm awake and dream about them when I'm asleep."

Hope thought about the dreams she had over the last few days. They weren't about family. They were just confusing and frightening as hell. She was beginning to dread going to sleep at night.

Hope picked up the postcard and magnifying glass. "BJ, I hope all your dreams are sweet. I've gotta go now." She stood up, grabbed her crutches and headed out the door.

As she was going out of the mess tent, Hawkeye came in. BJ noticed when his friend spoke to Hope; she only nodded and walked on.

Hawkeye sat down across from BJ. "What am I doing wrong? One minute, everything's fine with her; the next, she shuts me out."

"Hawkeye, sometimes you are blind to the obvious. I think something's really bothering her. Maybe you should just leave her alone for now."

"I know I should BJ, but I want to help her. I think I'm in …" He stopped short of what he wanted to say, but BJ knew what it was anyway.

"Hawkeye, you're a surgeon. It's in your nature to want to repair things. In a way, fixing a body is a hell of a lot easier than fixing a broken heart. If you rush in and try to fix what's bothering Hope, you may do irreparable damage to any sort of relationship you want to have with her."

"Yes, you're right. Dammit."

When he had finished administering the last rites to the patient in Post-Op, Father Mulcahy went back to his tent. He was thankful to be alone for a while. As much as he wanted Hope to tell him the rest of her confession, and yes it was a confession whether she was Catholic or not, he was glad for the opportunity to decompress from a difficult duty. Giving last rites was a part of his priestly calling, but it was made so much more difficult by the fact that the persons receiving the sacrament were dying much too young and so suddenly.

Francis sat down and closed his eyes. He relaxed and let his mind wander for a few minutes. It went right up to the sign he had posted in his head; the one that said "forbidden territory". He resisted the thought that was right there wanting to cross over to where it shouldn't go. It pushed back and came right in. The thought, pure and simple, was Hope. It was her face, her eyes, her voice; it was everything about her. What would it be like to hold her and kiss her?

There was a knock at his door. It interrupted his thoughts and annoyed him so much that he shouted without thinking, "Who is it?"

The voice that answered brought him back to reality. "Francis, it's me, Hope. I wanted to finish my talk with you. Is this a bad time? I can come back later. "

He got up and opened the door to her. "Come in Hope. I'm sorry I shouted at you."

She was already nervous and the annoyed look on his face when he opened the door didn't help. "I'm sorry. Really, if you want me to come back later, I will."

His face softened and he gave her a half smile. "No, now is the time you need to talk to me. You shouldn't have to wait any longer. Come sit down."

Hope sat down in the chair across from him. She rested her shaking hands on her knees and looked into his eyes. "I told you I had an affair with a man named Anthony MacMillan and that he's seven years older than me. He was in college, then law school when I was in high school. "

The priest nodded his head in affirmation that she had told him this before. "Go on," he said softly.

She took a deep breath and continued. "Like I said, Anthony is from my home town. I've known him all my life. He's movie star handsome and he knows it. He never had to pursue a girl, they pursued him. I never did because I didn't think he'd give me a second glance. He wasn't interested in "average", or so I thought.

I also thought that he wouldn't be interested in me because I'm a minister's daughter; "too goody, goody for him."

"When he finished law school, he came back home for a short while before he went to work for a law firm in Atlanta. By then, I had graduated from high school and was trying to decide what I wanted to do with my life. I was working for Doc Beasley, the local vet, when Anthony brought his mother's dog in for treatment. Before he left the vet's office that day, he asked me out on a date. I said "yes" in amazement. The man looked like a combination of Gregory Peck and Cary Grant and I wondered why in the world he asked average looking me out."

"The first date was nice. He took me to a very nice restaurant in Atlanta and then we went dancing. I felt special. I only had a couple of dates in high school and didn't have much experience, so the way Anthony treated me made me feel very special. He dropped me off at the door with a good night kiss. I thought he really liked me and I hoped we would continue to date. By about the third date, it became obvious he wanted a lot more than a good night kiss from me."

Hope paused and ran her fingers through her hair. Now she had to tell the hardest part of her story. "Oh Francis, I don't know if I can tell you the rest. I'm so ashamed of myself."

He took her hand and said softly, "Yes, you can tell me. I'm not here to judge you Hope. Go on."

There was a knock at the door. Francis let out an annoyed sigh. He put a finger to his lips to indicate to Hope to be quiet. He hoped whoever was on the other side of the door would give up and go away if it was quiet. Maybe they would think no one was there. After a long thirty seconds, there was the sound of retreating footsteps.

Both Hope and Francis let out an audible sigh of relief. He looked heavenward and addressed the Almighty with his eyes open. "Lord, please for just a little while, could there not be anymore interruptions? It's wearing on the nerves! Thank you. Amen"

Hope took a deep breath and continued. "Like I said, he wanted more from me than a good night kiss. I was so flattered by his attention that I gave in and slept with him. I was very naïve and had it in my head that he wouldn't continue to date me if I didn't. Since he always took me on dates in Atlanta, it was easier to find hotels where we would be anonymous. He always brought me home around midnight, so nobody would get too suspicious."

"For me, his attentions became an addiction for me. I felt like I couldn't refuse him anything. Over time, he grew tired of me. The whole time this affair was going on, he failed to tell me he was engaged to marry some Atlanta socialite. He was after the girl's money and status, I guess. "

"Two days before Anthony's wedding, I found out I was pregnant. When I called him to tell him that, he told me he was getting married and it would be best to never contact him again. I asked him what I was going to do; pregnant without a husband. He bluntly told me that if I was stupid enough to get pregnant, it was my problem, not his. And besides, he said, I would be the one to bring shame on my minister father, not him. It was then I knew what Anthony MacMillan truly was; a man who would manipulate others to get what he wanted and discard them when he had it."

"Thank God for Doc Williams, our family doctor. Well really, the whole county's doctor. That man carries so many peoples' secrets and he knew mine. I turned to him for help. He made arrangements to get me away from town. I was going to visit one of his sisters in Florida. She was elderly and needed help around her house. I would stay long enough to have the baby. An adoption would be arranged and I would come back home to resume my life."

"Before I was schedule to go to Florida, nature intervened. I had a miscarriage." She had managed to stay fairly calm in the telling of her story until then. Her eyes watered and tears began to roll down her face.

Seeing her tears broke Francis Mulcahy's heart. He took her hand again and held it. "Oh Hope, I am so sorry. Do you want to stop now? You can tell me the rest later."

She shook her head. "I've got to finish this now Francis."

"Shortly after the miscarriage, I made the decision to join the Army. I had two reasons for this decision; one was to get away from home and Anthony, the other to get a nursing education."

"I did a terrible thing. Francis, was the miscarriage a punishment for what I did?"

"No, Hope, it wasn't a punishment. It just wasn't meant to be, "he told her. He so wanted to hold her to comfort her.

She asked him another question. "Can I be forgiven for what I did? I am so sorry for what happened. I was a fool."

"Hope, if you are truly sorry for what you did, God forgives you. The question now is this; can you forgive yourself?"

Hope has finally made her confession. Now that she has told Father Mulcahy, will it change his feelings for her?

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