Chương 38: Help to Beat a Thirteen-Year-Old

"You need help to beat a thirteen-year-old?" Father Domingo asked. Una wondered if they taught that supercilious little smirk in seminary. Every priest she'd ever met had used the same wry, my-child smile to trivialize her concerns. It was infuriating.

"He's very bright," she explained.

"Hmmm." Father Domingo scratched at the stubble on the side of his face. He had a weak chin and would have looked better with a beard. When Una was a girl, she once asked a deacon why all priests were clean-shaven. The lecture that followed invoked Pope Alexander III and Durandus, but never actually answered her question. She continued to wonder for years until at last, a nun explained. It was so their mustaches didn't dip in the chalice. Una cracked up and the nun did too; they both laughed into their hands.

After that, she'd never quite looked at priests the same way.

"Let me ask around," Father Domingo offered. The priest trundled off with her shoebox full of painted birds, in no particular hurry. Una watched impatiently. She was sure she could overtake him, bad hip and all. Asking for help was a mistake. She stood in the nave and glanced through the stations of the Cross. Her eyes fell on Mary in her alcove. Even She only lost one. Sunlight caught the monstrance and glared in her eyes. Una turned away and shook her head, struck by her own irreverence.

Confession would be rough—if she even went. Each week, it took more effort to force herself to come to San Felipe. If not for the clay birds, she might have skipped Mass today. She hadn't felt a sliver of grace since Robin got sick. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Father Domingo took his sweet time. Una nearly sat down in a pew, but she wanted him to feel bad for keeping her waiting. It wasn't the first time she'd become disenchanted.

After Hector died, Una lapsed for six months. Before she returned, she secretly dipped her toes into a few other churches, just to see how it felt. The Pentecostals were too crazy, and the Episcopalians were so lax she barely felt like she was in church. In the end, she came back to San Felipe de Neri. It was a long drive with gas prices so high, but it felt like home. She tapped her foot in the nave. With nothing to keep her hands busy, all the things she wanted to ignore bubbled to the forefront.

Money was tight again; she'd overspent on those little army men. Dr. Suarez was guarded every time they talked. Una wished she would just lie and tell her everything would be all right. Every night, the blasted coyotes were getting closer. She called the city again for the dogcatcher. They fobbed her off to the Fish and Wildlife Service. She shouldn't even be here. She ought to be with Robin. Overwhelmed, Una nearly turned on her heel and left. Father Domingo would probably think she'd gone senile and wandered off.

But she needed more birds. When she wasn't at the hospital, she was painting. It was the only thing that kept her mind from straying into darkness.

"Una?" Father Bartolomé Jonás was the opposite of Father Domingo in many ways. The rector was a small, dark man who moved with a sense of purpose and urgency. As his eightieth birthday neared, more and more of Farther Jonás's duties fell to the younger priests. His slide into retirement was a large part of Una's discontent. Something irreplaceable was lost.

"Father." In spite of herself, Una smiled for the first time that day. Father Jonás was a cornerstone of her life. He'd married Una and Hector right here in San Felipe and baptized baby Lucinda. He visited Hector at Lovelace Hospital and gave his eulogy. If she'd known Domingo would bother Father Jonás over something so frivolous, she never would have asked.

"How is he?" Jonás asked. Una's answer stuck in her throat. Her face said everything. Father Jonás set a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you hungry? Let's get lunch and talk about it."

"Yes," Una said immediately.