"I couldn't get comfortable. I was exhausted when I lay down, then I woke up and just lay there."
"That's a terrible feeling. You do look a little better. Where's your sling?"
He held it up with his right hand. "I promise not to do anything. I just need it off for a while. I start feeling claustrophobic."
"You never did like to be contained. Of the three of you, you're the only one who didn't like being swaddled. You'd scream and kick until I set you free."
"I promise not to scream and kick." He kissed her cheek. "Where are Dad and Eric?"
"They've gone to Wynter's, to help with the food moving process."
"I have to say, I'm just as glad to miss that."
Laughing lightly, his mother motioned for him to take a seat. "Sit. I'll get you some coffee."
"I'd rather have something cold."
"I can do cold coffee, if you like."
"No. Water or juice is fine."
"I just made lemonade."
"Perfect. Thanks." He gratefully accepted a glass of the icy, tart drink. Taking a sip, he closed his eyes. "You always make it just right."
"Thank you." She sat, a glass of her own in front of her. "What's on your mind?"
"Does something have to be?"
"Of course it does. You're just like me, your mind is never still. But there's something deeply bothering you."
Obi smiled, fiddling with his glass. "Am I doing the right thing with my life, Mom? I don't know anymore."
"That's just because of that woman—"
"No. I had doubts before I even met Cieran. Did I simply let myself get forced into this, because it was tradition?" His voice cracked as he held back a sob.
Hester took her son's hand. "You know full well how the church screens applicants. Like the Roman Catholic Church, we don't let just anyone in. You have to show proof of a true vocation. If there had been any doubt in Bishop Morelli's mind, he'd never have let you join the seminary. You worked hard, showed how much you wanted this. Why do you doubt?"
"Was I just doing it because it was expected? Did I merely mirror what I saw in my father and grandfather? Is this truly where I belong?"
"I'm sorry, Obadiah. Only you can answer that. But if you're having doubts, take some time off. Go on a retreat. Spend time with the Lord, in solitude. If you come back, believing that you aren't meant for this life, then find something else. If, as I suspect, you simply need a chance to find yourself again, then it will be clear to you."
"You think?"
"I know. Your father had his own crisis, about your age. We'd been married almost ten years, and had two boys, with a third on the way. I don't know if you remember, but there were two others between Clive and Eric, which I lost. It was a miracle that we had Eric. I almost lost him, too. When he was born, so small and premature, your father nearly lost his faith. But as Eric grew and got healthy, he found it again."
"If I have a son, I don't think I can force him to take holy orders."
"Do you feel you were forced? Oh, my darling! I never knew that."
"I never said. I did what was expected."
"We thought you wanted it."
"I don't know. Maybe I did? I feel as if I'm letting my flock down. How can I tell them to believe, have faith, when I'm not sure I do?"
His mother gasped, bursting into tears. There was a rattle at the front door. Both of them wiped their faces, doing their best to pull themselves together.
"It must be Dad. Eagle and Clive don't have that much trouble with the door."
"I suppose."
Getting up, he walked slowly to the door. By the time he got there, his father had the door open. He fumbled with the key, trying to get it out of the lock.
"That lock has been a mess since I was seventeen," he fussed. "I kept telling Dad to fix it, but he never would."
"He told me he did that so he could tell when you boys were getting home. If you were after curfew, he'd meet you on the stairs and read you the riot act."
Prescott burst out laughing. "I always wondered how he did that. Tomorrow, I'm buying you a new doorknob. That can't continue."
"Whatever you like, Dad. What can I help with?"
"Nothing at all. Your brothers and I have it in hand. I'm doing the hard job." He winked, holding up a lightweight bag. "Did you know that girl of yours can bake bread?"
"She's not my girl. And no. I barely know her."
"Get to know her better. She's just what you need." He pushed past his son, greeting his wife with a kiss.
The brothers came next, carrying heavy dishes and cloth bags. The women followed, with lighter items. Each of them stopped to kiss him on the cheek, as he held the door. Clive and Eagle went out for another load.
"Put your sling on," Sarah said, holding it out to him.
He'd forgotten that he'd left it on the table. "Yes, ma'am."
She helped him get it over his head and under his elbow. "You look like a caged beast."
"I feel like one. I'm not used to being out of action. And this thing makes me want to scream and throw things."
"I know. Sit down and rest."
"I'm really sick of resting."
"Maybe so, but your body isn't. When is the last time you had a pain pill?"
"I don't remember."
"Prescott Obadiah Crispin Randolph, what are we going to do with you?"
Recoiling slightly, Obi nearly lost his balance. Catching his hip on the wall, he took a step back from her. "Yikes! How did you learn all that?"
"Wynter."
"Please, don't ever do that again. Only my mother does that."
©Dellani Oakes 2023
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