Abbey Bennet stood just outside St. Andrew's church, with her head tilted up, intimidated by the church's sheer size and the magnitude of the spirit that lied within its stony white walls. Ron Erlich, her current boyfriend, waited just ahead of her, and looked back in an effort to see what she was seeing. When his eyes failed to discern what hers surely did, he called out to her. It was not until her younger sister, Michelle, elbowed her in the ribs that she reacted.
"Oh. Sorry."
She ran up to his side and linked her arm through his, trying to steal some of the strength and confidence he so obviously possessed and exhibited. They entered the church slowly, absorbing their surroundings. Abbey felt eye upon eye burning into her porcelain skin as she walked by each crowded pew. Incoherent whispers traveled to her ears, threatening to collapse the fortress of poise and composure she had struggled to uphold.
"Look, it's the Bennett girl, the middle one."
"That child hasn't been to church in years! Not since her mother died. Cancer. Poor dear."
"My daughter says that she and the Erlich boy have had premarital relations! Maybe even more than once!"
"Her poor father! And a widower at that!"
"I hear she wants to be a doctor! Can you imagine!"
Abbey held her head up high, took a deep breath, and plastered a fake, confident smile on her face.
"Abbey!" Nick Bennett called out to his daughter, in a voice that was soft, but loud for inside a place of worship. "Over here."
Abbey breathed a grateful sigh of relief and lead Ron into the pew where her father, sister, and step-mother sat.
"You all right, cookie?" Nick asked.
"Sure. Great. Couldn't be better."
Nick's suspicious gaze rested upon her for a moment before changing directions and focusing straight ahead, where Father McDevitt was about to begin his sermon.
Jed Bartlet sat not far from Father McDevitt, with Father Paul Norwood and Father Peter Derek. He surveyed the members of his congregation, with both awe and trepidation. He both adored and admired each parishioner, though, in truth, they made him nervous. Plagued with an omnipresent sense of self-doubt, Jed always wondered if he was good enough to hold the position he so embraced.
As he examined the people before him, his eyes fell upon a girl in the third row, who looked about twenty or so. She sat with who appeared to be her parents and siblings, who seemed thoroughly engrossed in the homily. But they didn't grasp his attention for long. He couldn't help but notice her indifferent expression. It was an almost melancholy look, filled with sorrow and perplexity. and it fascinated him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Father McDevitt speak of spiritual warfare, angels and demons. Jed wished the girl would listen to him, as he was certain she had some demons of her own to battle.
After the service, the Bennett family stood outside the church, mingling and socializing with friends. Abbey was visibly anxious and taciturn, nervously wringing her hands and allowing her eyes to dart around the vicinity.
"Abbey, darling, we've missed seeing you around! Really, you must come to church more often," Joanna Moore said, grinning a little too broadly.
"Oh, absolutely," Gracie Turner agreed, enthusiastically. "We never tire of seeing your lovely face around here."
"The child's a sight for sore eyes, Nick," Deborah Moran said, nudging him lightly.
"Oh, yeah," Nick replied, in a tone that was almost sarcastic. "She's a real doll. Aren't you, cookie?"
Abbey smiled uneasily and nodded.
"You know it, Daddy."
"You really must come around more often, dear. We see so much of your sister, Michelle!"
"Yes, well, Chelly's got nothing better to do," Abbey responded, through clenched teeth. "Would you excuse me please?"
A bit startled by her latest comment, Joanna, Gracie, and Deborah nodded uncomfortably.
"Good." Abbey flashed them a false grin. "Daddy, I'll catch up with you in a bit."
"Where are you off to?"
"Confession."
"Bless me father, for I have sinned."
The confessional was dark. So dark, she could barely see her own hands. She could feel the presence of the priest on the other side, just waiting to pounce on her with his righteousness, throwing Hail Mary's at her in hope that she would catch it and be absolved of all her sins. For the day at least.
"It has been…"
Her voice faltered and cracked, leaving almost untraceable hints of her past.
"Yes?" The priest spoke.
She swallowed and tried to summon up all the courage that dwelled somewhere inside her tiny body.
"It's been…"
"How long has it been since your last confession?"
His voice, to her utter surprise, was warm and inviting. Not at all like the cold, judgmental priests she had confessed her sins to in the past.
"It's been…three years. Three years since my last confession."
"Three years," the priest repeated, thoughtfully. "What has kept you away from God's house for so long?"
"Uh. Well, that's when…that's when my mother died. Three years ago."
"And so you stopped coming to church?"
"Yes," Abbey replied, softly.
"Why is that? Did you blame God for your mother's death?"
"Not so much blamed him as…distrusted him."
"I see. What has prompted you to return?"
"I don't know, honestly. For my dad's sake, I suppose. Should I be listing my sins now?"
"You can."
"Okay, well, I've…sworn at my boyfriend, my brother, my sisters, my best friend, and myself. And at…"
"At who?"
"At…oh, I'm gonna get about a hundred Hail Mary's for this one," she muttered under her breath. "At God."
"You swore at God."
"Yes," Abbey whispered.
"What was your reason for swearing at God?"
"You have to understand, Father, it's not that I…have anything against God really."
"Yet you swore at him," the priest replied, calmly.
"I was angry!"
"James 1:19-21 says, 'My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.'"
"Wish I'd had that one up my sleeve last night."
"Anything else you'd like to confess?"
"I've…taken the Lord's name in vain, probably a thousand times in the last three years. That's a couple of Our Father's right there. I've gossiped and I've lied."
"Okay. Let me ask you something. Do you know the Commandments?" The Priest asked.
"You're asking me if I know the Commandments."
"Yes."
"I'm Catholic, Father. I know my Commandments."
"Recite them to me."
"Oh, um…okay. In order?"
"If you can."
"Verbatim from Exodus 20. 'And God spoke all these words, saying: I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them for I the Lord your God am a jealous God. You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain. Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you. You shall not kill. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife.' How'd I do"
Father Josiah Bartlet smiled in the darkness and nodded to himself.
"You did well."
