Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 43

"Why do you have an iron here?"

"All the robes I have to wear? You'd keep an iron, too. Can't go out front in a wrinkled surplice."

"Shocking!"

"Some of the church ladies keep me freshly pressed. The vestments go to the dry cleaner's, but they don't always transfer well."

"Gotcha. You know I don't care, right?" He eyed himself in the mirror. "Don't suppose you've got a spare tie?"

"Nope. Sorry. That's as good as it gets."

"Thank you."

"We'd better go sit down, or someone less deserving will sit by our women."

Laughing, the brothers headed to the sanctuary. Walking through the narthex, several people stopped Obi.

"Father Randolph, what are you doing in civilian clothing?" one older man asked with a chuckle.

"I'm taking the day off, Ralph. My folks are visiting, so I asked my dad to step in for the service. You know my brother, Clive, don't you?"

"I surely do. My wife has told me all about you."

Turning his head, as if to hear better, Clive squinted at the older man. "Wife?"

"This is Ralph Bannister," Obi explained.

"Oh, Lorna's husband. Pleased to meet you, sir." He held out his hand, giving the older man a firm handshake. "She speaks of you often, sir."

"No need to sir me, young man. I'm a working stiff, just like you."

"Beg to differ, Mr. Bannister. A man who served his country as a Marine Major, deserves a sir."

"In that case, I'll accept it. Came up through the ranks the hard way."

Chatting, the three men walked into the sanctuary together.

"Lorna's reading the scripture today," Ralph explained.

"We'll save her a spot."

Obi looked around, wondering where Eagle was. He didn't even see him in with the band, who were setting up. Leaning over to his brother, he asked about the youngest Randolph.

"He's not coming," Clive said.

"Great. Because of last night?"

"Yes. You really upset him."

"I upset him?" Obi rolled his eyes. "That's choice. He can say whatever he wants to me, but I stick up for myself, and he has a fit. Will that boy ever grow up?"

"Maybe if we stopped calling him a boy, and coddling him?"

Shaking his head, Obi sighed. "Maybe? Who knows. I'm over it."

"Makes two of us. Oh, here's Mom."

The men stood, guiding Hester to her seat. The organist started the first hymn, and they all stood. Everyone in the congregation sang with great gusto—some with more exuberance than skill. Obi had encouraged them all, talented or not, to sing. It was his theory that nothing praised God as much as music. Fortunately, this flock had enthusiastically taken to the idea.

The service started. Reciting the familiar prayers and responses, Obi felt at peace. During the sermon, Wynter's hand crept over to his. Feeling like teenagers, they held hands between them, where no one would see.

"I'm delighted to be back here at St. Pete's," Prescott began. "It's good to look out and see a lot of old friends and familiar faces. Today's scripture, Matthew 19:26 tells us With God, all things are possible. I firmly believe this. Sometimes, it takes us a while to figure it out. I'll admit, I was one of the slowest. In my family, it's traditional for the first male of the generation, to become a priest. I took religious orders, just like my father, grandfather and great-grandfather. My son, your pastor, is the eldest of his generation, therefore he also sought religious life."

Smiling, he walked around to the front of the podium. "It takes a lot of courage to give your life to the church. It's a vocation which requires much contemplation and prayer, and is not to be entered into lightly. That said, it's a rewarding life, full of ups and downs. We preside over baptisms, but we also must officiate at funerals. We marry young couples, some of whom we've baptized, and watched grow up. We counsel couples when they argue. We console them when one partner dies. We are everything to our congregation, which is why they call us Father."

A few sniffles reached Obi's ears. Closing his eyes, he listened to his father's words.

"Under these vestments, we're only human. From time to time, despite our training, our prayers and calling, we can still lose ourselves in doubt. It's a terrible thing to question your faith, especially when you have so many people counting on you for guidance. There is nothing worse than kneeling to pray, and wondering if He, in whom you have always believed, is listening. The wonder and fear that He won't answer—or He will, in a way we don't want. Then, having to explain to someone else, who is suffering, why their prayers weren't answered by a God, whose will you question. Belief, in the face of doubt, is the hardest thing any of us can do."

He walked down the steps, standing in the aisle in front of the altar. "What can we do in a time like that? Well, you can talk to someone else, who has strong faith. It might be your parish priest. It might be a friend, or family member. It might be a total stranger, whom you meet by random chance—though with God, there's no such thing as random. He puts people in our paths at just the right time. And He puts us in the paths of others. Whether you're a priest or not, your faith can be used to help someone else. In the times of greatest uncertainty, when you feel tested to your limit, that's when you can reach out to someone else who is suffering. Someone who might not ever have had a belief system. Someone who is as miserable as you, or more. For in helping one another, we can build back our own faith."

He spoke a few more minutes, but Obi wasn't giving him his full attention. Instead, he felt the impact of the words hit home. He suspected his father had written this sermon for him, at least it felt that way. The sermon over, it was time to sing another song before concluding the service. Ushers lined up with the offering baskets, ready to send them around as the congregation sang.

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Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 42

 "Shoes, and I'm set." He slipped loafers on his feet. Grabbing his jacket, wallet and keys, he declared himself ready.

"Umbrellas," his mother said as they got to the door.

"Good idea," he said. "Thanks, Mom."

"See you at church. Will you be up front?"

"Absolutely." Giving her another kiss, he ushered the sisters out.

Fortunately, his car was in the garage, and they didn't have to make a mad dash to get into it.

"I don't have Mom's clicker," Wynter said with a sigh. "How about I go in and hit the wall switch and grab it out of the car?"

"That sounds like a good idea. That way, when you're all dressed up, you don't have to worry about getting wet," Obi replied.

"Brilliant, Sis!" Emily agreed.

They did just that. The rain had eased off a little by the time they got to Wanda's house. Wynter jogged to the front porch, let herself in, and was distressed to hear noises upstairs. Slamming the front door, she yelled at her sister before going to the garage.

Emily came in, immediately clicking on the music. She purposely chose Cowboys from Hell by Pantera. The loud, raucous song was anything but sexy. She wanted to interrupt them, but didn't hold out much hope.

"Quick showers, five minute makeup and I'll be ready," Wynter said.

"It will take me a little longer," Emily confessed. "My hair is feeling this rain."

"It doesn't have to be slicked back," Wynter said, fluffing Emily's hair. "These curls are gorgeous. Give it a good brushing, it's fine."

"You think?"

"Go big, or go home," Obi said. "I think it would look good on you."

"And I have just the outfit," she said with a grin. Trotting up the stairs to her room, she banged on the wall, which was back to back with the master bedroom. "Time for church, you heathens!" she yelled.

Wynter trotted up behind her, adding her own banging. Obi stood on the stairs, hammering on the wall, singing along with Rob Zombie, who was now growling out the lyrics to More Human Than Human.

The door to the bedroom slammed open. Clive came out, naked and angry.

"What? You can't leave a man alone—?"

"Dude. Pants," Obi said, pointing.

Fortunately, Emily and Wynter were in their rooms.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for that. I didn't get to finish."

"Crying in my heart for you—not," Obi replied. "Go change the sheets, Wanda's going to want her room, when she gets home."

"Yeah, get over yourself."

"Never gonna happen."

Muttering and fussing, Clive went to the bedroom, slamming the door. Obi heard the water start in the shower. Rather than wandering around upstairs, he went to the foyer. He was intrigued by the house, so he walked around, looking. Built about the same time as his home, it even had a similar layout, though the reverse of his. He admired the furniture and pictures on the walls, pleased to see more than one family portrait. Hung chronologically, he saw the girls grow up. Captivated by Wynter's smile, he stared at her senior portrait for several minutes.

"Ah-hm," he heard next to him.

Wynter stood beside him, smiling and looking expectant. "I left off the lip gloss, so we won't make a mess."

Putting her arms around him, she gave him a kiss.

"Step away from the woman," his brother said loudly.

Jumping slightly, Obi stepped back, tripping over a hassock. Wynter grabbed his belt, keeping him upright. He froze. With her hand that close to his zipper, he suddenly felt a surge of lust course through him.

"You okay, Bro?" Clive said, rushing to his side.

"Yeah. Fine."

"You don't look fine." He extracted his brother from Wynter's hold.

"No. I'm good."

"Sure you are. Let's get you something to eat, huh?"

"Got food—in the car," he gasped.

"Let's go get it, shall we? The ladies are putting on the finishing touches."

"Is that—what you're wearing—to church?" Obi managed to ask as he walked the car.

Clive slid behind the wheel, after making sure his brother was settled on the other side.

"It's what I've got. Got anything I can wear, at the church?"

"Maybe a shirt, or pants."

"You sure you're okay?"

"A beautiful woman kissed me, then grabbed my belt. Do I look fine?"

"No. Which is why I asked."

"You had to do it," Obi muttered.

"Do what?" Smiling, he hopped out of the car when the women exited the house.

"You know perfectly well what," Obi grumbled.

"Yeah," Clive replied, not really looking at his brother. "Because she's gorgeous, and wanted a good man."

"I hate you so much, right now."

"I know, but you'll get over it." He helped the ladies get in the car. "Next stop, St. Pete's!"

Traffic wasn't too bad between Wanda's house and the church. They made good time. Once the ladies were settled up front, the men explored the vestry, to see if there was anything for Clive to upgrade his wardrobe. They found a pair of Obi's pants and a jacket. Technically, they were part of his uniform, which he kept for emergency changes. Paired with a plain white shirt, which they dug out of the charity donations, he declared himself fit. The shirt looked like it had never been worn, and was fairly wrinkle free. A quick swipe with an iron, and it was just right.

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Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 40

It was starting to get dark when they reached their destination, but there was a full moon. He'd driven to the river. A path wound from the parking area, down to the river bank. Turning off the car, he smiled at Wynter.

"My folks have a cabin up here. We stayed out here all summer, only going into the city for services. When I was making my decision to join the seminary, I came up here for a retreat. I fished for food, prayed a lot, and completely unplugged from life—no computer, no phone, no TV. It was bliss."

"Sounds like you enjoyed it."

"I did. Very much. This is my favorite place, of anywhere I've ever been. I feel most like me here. After the crash and burn with Cieran, I had decided to come up here for a few days. Then everything else happened, and that plan got postponed. Would you like to see it?"

"I would!"

"Great." He reached into the back seat, grabbing a battery operated lantern. "I put this in here a few days ago, and forgot about it. There's power at the cabin, but no lights along the way."

Helping her out of the car, he looped her arm through his, after opening the lantern. Blue-white light cast bright beams, creating eerie shadows. These danced and dipped as the lantern swung from Obi's hand.

Around a bend in the path, Wynter saw a cabin. It was split logs, with a low, red metal roof. The porch circled it on three sides. Low eaves dropped nearly to the ground, creating a comforting shade against the midday sun.

"Welcome to Rose Cottage," he said as he unlocked the door.

It was then that Wynter noticed that there was a beautiful stained glass panel in the door, covered in dozens of different colored roses. The shutters on the windows, were painted a dark rosy red. In the center of each shutter, someone had cut out intricate rose shapes.

"It's beautiful!" she gasped.

"Thank you. It was built by my great-great-grandfather. Initially, it was the family homestead. Eventually, they had enough money to move into town, but kept the cabin."

"This is wonderful. It's so homey!"

She admired the blond wood floors and rough hewn walls. The furniture was rustic in design, covered in colorful, handmade cloth which reminded her of Native American patterns from local tribes. On the wall, on either side of the fireplace, were framed shadowboxes, with a beautifully embroidered and beaded blouse and shoes.

"Is this Potawatomi work?"

"Yes. My great-great-grandmother was Potawatomi."

"No kidding! That's so cool! We have some Native blood, too. Also my great-great-grandmother. Only she was Tuscarora."

"Cool. Do you have anything from her?"

Sadly, she shook her head. "She died when her children were very young. Their father wasn't able to care for them, so they were separated and put in care."

"That's a shame. I hope they had good homes."

"Some of them did. There were twelve, and the older ones didn't fare as well as the younger ones. They were put into work camps, where they worked fourteen hour days."

"That's criminal!"

"Yes, it is. That's what happened then." Sniffling a little, she touched the frame, stroking the glass. "I can't get over how intricate those designs are. Simply stunning."

"Yes, they are. My grandfather had them hermetically sealed and put here when I was a boy."

"That was a good idea."

"Want to see the rest?"

"I'd love to. How many rooms is it?"

"Living room," he gestured. "Dining area," he pointed to the other side of the cabin, where a sturdy, circular table stood. "Let's go see the kitchen, because you'll love it."

There was a bar perpendicular to the back wall. The kitchen was snug, but well laid out. The sink overlooked the back yard—which was mostly trees. But the way that the house was sitting, there was a view of the river both from this window, and the front porch.

"This is beautiful!" Wynter sighed.

"Want something to drink? We keep it stocked. I've got coffee, tea, sodas and wine."

"Something cold," she replied with a smile.

He got a cold Coca-Cola from the refrigerator, handing it to her. "It's clean on top. I washed it before I put it in there."

"I thought I was the only person to do that!" She smiled, popping the can open.

"You've met my mother," he stated as if that made it all clear.

"Exactly like mine, apparently."

"In all the very best ways." Tapping his can against hers, he smiled. "Cheers."

"Cheers."

It was cool in the cabin, so he started a fire. They sat on the couch, snuggled closely, gazing into the flames. Wynter could tell that Obi was more relaxed than he'd been earlier. She felt calmer, too. The worries of her life slipped away, washing down the river.

They finished their sodas in silence. Obi slipped his arm around her, and she put her head on his shoulder. Turning his head, he tipped her chin, planting a soft kiss on her lips. Wynter sighed happily, smiling a little as they kissed. They spent a long time in one another's embrace.

Obi wasn't sure when they'd passed the threshold of friendship, to something more, but he was happier than he could ever remember being. Wynter filled a gap in his soul, he hadn't even realized was there. He'd heard Eagle yammer on about soul mates, since meeting Sarah. Obi hadn't really ever given it much thought, until the first time he kissed Wynter. It was as if his soul recognized hers, and vice versa.

His phone rang, piercing their solitude. "Yeah?" he answered, not looking at the screen.

"Sorry to bother you, Brother Mine," Clive said. "But Mom's worried."

"We're at the cabin," Obi said.

"Planning to spend the night?"

"No, why?"

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Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 39

 

"It's a job, like anything else," Obi said rather sharply. "Just because a man has Father in front of his name, doesn't make him less interesting."

"But it makes him an pawn in the great machine, which is organized religion," Eagle said.

"Excuse me?" Hester bridled at that remark.

"Admit it," Eagle said, talking over his mother. "You both believe the limited dogma you learned at seminary, not the way life really is."

"Explain how life really is," Obi said in a low voice. His tone was deep, dangerous. "No, I'll explain it, from my limited, dogmatic education."

Prescott started to protest, but Obi held up his hand to stop him.

"Let him, Dad," Clive said calmly. "I wanna hear this."

"Go for it, Bro," Eagle said, his attitude more confrontational. Even Sarah's hand on his arm, didn't settle him down.

"Life is full of pain," Obi said softly. "We're born from pain, we grow and live with our pain. Sometimes, it's worse than others. God can alleviate that pain—"

"You mean if you're strong enough, your body and mind do it for you," Eagle interrupted.

"I mean—" Obi inhaled deeply, slowly. "I mean, if you fully rely on God, put your faith in Him, trust and believe, your journey is easier. Your load is lighter. People need to believe in something outside themselves."

"What if I said I don't want to believe in God?" Eagle said, jutting his jaw defiantly.

"My reply would be—I hope you find something to believe in. Because it's pretty dark and cold out there, without faith."

"What if I want to be a Buddhist? A Hindu? Are you going to tell me those are false gods?" his voice grew louder, angrier.

Sarah's face was pale, her eyes wide. This was a side of Eagle she'd never seen.

"If that's what makes you happy, fills you with joy and peace – go for it."

"All those false gods? That doesn't bother you?"

"God has many faces. The Christian God is the same one that Muslims and Jews worship – each with a different name. The Hindu gods are manifestations of aspects of God, which we put under a Trinity umbrella. Their gods are separate personalities, but the power comes from the same place."

"What if I condemn your God as a fake?" He stood, challenging his brother.

"Eric!" his mother gasped.

"You're entitled to believe that," Obi replied, also standing. "And if you really feel that way, Eric, I'll pray for you." Dropping his napkin by his plate, he turned to go.

"You're just going to walk away?" Eric yelled as Obi's hand touched the kitchen door.

Pressing his lips together, Obi inhaled deeply. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his brother vibrating with anger. The family looked horrified.

"I love you, Eric. You're my brother. Say what you want, do what you want. But I'm not going to listen to it in my house. In deference to our mother, I'm not making you leave. I'm also not listening to you another second, or I'll lose my temper." Squaring his shoulders, he felt the anger bubble up like lava. Unable to stop it, he let it flow over. "You've been so coddled, sheltered. You've never been pinned down to this thing, or that. You've been free to explore and find yourself—that's great!" His voice rose in anger. "The rest of us—we've all got jobs. Whether we like them or not—that's immaterial. We're doing the best we can. For some of us, that's dependent upon our faith. A faith that people died to protect. A faith that put food on our table, a roof over our heads, and gave us a loving family. You can belittle what you want, but I won't have you do that in front of our parents. Mom, I apologize, but I have to get out of here before I say something I'll be really sorry for."

Grabbing his wallet and keys, he headed toward the front door. The kitchen exploded with noise behind him, but he didn't care. When he reached into the coat closet for a jacket, he heard someone behind him. Turning, he saw Wynter.

"May I join you?"

"Of course." He held the door open for her.

"You shouldn't drive."

"I'm all right. No pain pills for hours, and my shoulder feels fine."

"Still...I can—"

"Thanks, I've got it."

"Where did you want to go?"

"Anywhere but here."

Nodding, she got in the car. Taking a deep breath, Obi started the car. He had no idea where he was going, deciding to let the spirit guide him.

"I'm sure he didn't mean all that," Wynter said as they drove slowly down his street.

"Yes, he did. It's been coming for a while. Ever since he changed his name to Eagle, and started exploring," he made air quotes, "I knew he'd hit me with it one day."

"How did you know?"

"Sixth sense? I'm not sure, I just did. Maybe it's having our folks here. He feels threatened by our beliefs."

"Why?"

"He doesn't share them. He never has, really. I'm not sure what made him so cynical, but I pray he'll get over himself soon. But I'm not holding my breath."

He turned up the interstate on-ramp. Speeding up, he entered the steady stream of traffic without a care. Cars whizzed by on their left. Checking traffic, he moved left to the second lane. A destination now in mind, he sped up.

"Where are we going?"

He smiled, cutting his eyes at her a second. "You'll see when we get there."

"You're being very mysterious, Father Randolph."

"Obi. Please. When we're together, I'm not Father."

She inclined her head, accepting that. "You're still being mysterious."

"There's some beautiful country around here. I thought you might like to see something other than the city.

"I would, very much."

"Very well."

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Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 38

"And how much do you make for your healing hands?" Emily snapped.

"Nothing. We ask for sponsors, to cover travel expenses, nothing more. If someone wants to give us a gift, we donate it to a local charity in that community. We don't believe in taking money for what God gives us freely."

"Can you do that for my mother?"

"If she wants. I'll ask her." He put his hand on Emily's shoulder. "We're the real deal," he said softly, gazing into her eyes. "We have faith in God, and the skills he gave us. We heal people, Emily."

"Will you heal my mom?" she gasped, a sob escaping her.

"If she wants it. We can't do anything, unless the patient asks."

"Why not?"

"Because they need to believe they've received it."

"We'll ask her," Obi said, gazing into her eyes.

"You should consider joining us," Father Elvis said.

"I don't have the skill for it," Obi said quietly.

"Nonsense. You're a strong healer, you just don't know it. We'll talk."

Prescott was waiting by the front door. They walked out with Father Elvis, whose car was near theirs.

Obi got in back, sitting behind Emily, who scooted her seat up for him. She tried to get him to sit up front, but he refused.

"My mother would smack me, if I even considered getting in the front," he said with a grin.

"Fine. I don't want to be responsible for that."

"My cranium and I thank you."

Father Flannery bid them farewell.

"Thanks again, Father Elvis," Emily said, giving him a hug.

"You're welcome, Emily." He kissed her on top of the head, murmuring something.

Emily didn't seem to hear, but Obi did. It was Latin, asking for God's blessings and healing. He hung back a moment as Prescott helped her into the car.

"Healing?" Tipping his head, he repeated the phrase.

"We all need it," Father Elvis replied. "For Emily, it's not physical, but emotional. Not just her mother's illness has her upset."

"Thank you." He held out his hand. "I appreciate your help and prayers, Father."

"You're welcome—Father."

Back home, Obi walked into the sound of laughter and the scents of a delicious feast. No one was out front, so he assumed they were all in the kitchen. Kicking off his shoes, he wandered back. Clive was pouring Emily a glass of wine. He poured another for Obi.

"To family, friends, and good health," he said, raising his glass.

Repeating his toast, they clinked glasses before taking a sip.

"It was good to see Father Elvis," Prescott said with a smile. "How's he doing?"

"Very well. He helped me give Wanda the sacrament for the sick."

"He's a good man," Hester said. "He grew up in our neighborhood, but he was enough older, you boys weren't in school with him."

"He had to do a project on various religions," Prescott said, topping off their glasses. "He came to our service, and had a long chat with me afterward. He's a very astute fellow."

"I've always liked him," Obi said. "We served on a citywide panel of religious leaders, a couple years ago. He and I were seated next to one another, and found we had a lot in common. He kept offering to Baptize me into the Catholic faith." He laughed, shaking his head.

"You ready for your sermon tomorrow?" Eagle asked their father.

"I sure am. I expect you all in the front row."

"Like we were for our entire youths," Obi replied.

"Unless we were in the band, or choir," Clive added.

"I wondered why you all opted to be musicians," Prescott frowned, a smile tugging his lips.

"We could hide behind the partition, instead of having to be out front for everyone to stare at. I hated being on display," Eagle said with a shudder.

"Try being the man at the pulpit," Obi countered. "See how many people stare at you then."

"Woof—no thanks! I can't even imagine speaking in front of a bunch of people."

"Congregations aren't as bad as other religious," Prescott said. "Have you had to do that, Son?" he asked Obi.

"I belonged to a religious panel which required each of us to speak at least once a year. More often than not, the person assigned would cop out at the last minute, and I'd get a topic handed to me—as I walked in. More than once, I got up there and winged it. Luckily, I have my sermons memorized, and they cover a wide range of topics. Only one time, I got handed—" he paused, thinking. "What was it? Oh yes, Love Thy Neighbor – as applies to all those around you. I drew a blank, until I remembered Dad's Love Thy Brother Speech. I changed it up a little, and used it."

"What's the Love Thy Brother Speech?" Emily asked.

The brothers laughed.

"We had a tendency to smack each other around," Eagle said. "So Dad gave us that speech whenever we drew blood."

"So—roughly every other week," Clive added with a grin.

"It's a corker," Prescott said. "Calls upon brotherly love, Bible quotes, and a bunch of other good stuff. One of my best, if I may say so."

"The others thought so. Because of that speech, I got handed the job of preparing the next one, as well. It was good experience, though. And I met some great people. We had a sister city in Florida, and I got to fly down there to meet those priests. It was a good time."

"I can't imagine finding a bunch of other priests a good time," Eagle snarked, shaking his head.

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Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 37

Rebecca came out of the room, smiling. "Let me tell you what's going on," she said gently, taking Emily's hands. She explained briefly, her mother's condition.

Obi could hear her calm voice, and Emily's questions, as he walked off. He knew he should stay to help Emily, but sensed that Wanda needed the blessings he could give her, more than Emily needed the presence of a stranger.

Mass was over, and people filed out of the chapel. Some were walking, others were in wheelchairs, pushed by orderlies and aids. Waiting for the room to clear, Obi waved at Father Flannery.

"Come to the other side?" Father Elvis Flannery asked with a laugh. A man in his fifties, he'd always reminded Obi of the actor, Bruce Campbell. He had the same boyish looks and great hair.

Explaining what he needed, Obi was pleased to see that Father Flannery had it all. "I should have been prepared, but didn't think about it."

"I understand, it's not a problem. Mind a little backup? I'd be pleased to assist you."

"I'd be honored to have you. Twice the prayers can't hurt."

"That they can't. Mind if I ask how you got the shiner?"

Obi told him about his altercation with Edward Lancaster. Father Elvis nodded, hissing slightly.

"Yeah, he's a bugger. He was Roman Catholic, up until he had an argument with my predecessor. I was a lowly assistant priest at the time. Lancaster caused some big stink over something minor—oh, that retarded cousin of his—Abel? Albert?"

"Abner. Carr."

Father Elvis snapped his fingers, pointing at Obi. "That's it. The guy's got an IQ of a salad bar."

Trying not to laugh at the uncharitable comment, Obi snorted. "Dumber than a head of lettuce."

"The very one. He wanted Father Murray to give the idiot a job. Murray tried him out, but ended up firing him for incompetence. Lancaster got so mad, he left the church, vowing ruination."

"Did he succeed?"

Father Elvis shrugged, shaking his head. "We're still here. Murray retired sixteen years ago, and is happily living in Arizona. I left for a while, but was sent back to St. Winifred's ten years ago."

"I guess he must have come directly to my church, after leaving there."

"Probably. So, what did you do to piss him off so much?"

"I wouldn't get in a fight with him. He wanted to tussle, I told him no. The phone rang, I turned around to go to my office, and he jumped me."

"What a jerk."

"Believe me, I called him worse—in my head."

"The lovely thing about doing that in your head, is that no one can prosecute you for it." Father Elvis tapped his temple. "Got to think several steps ahead, in order to keep in front of him. He's a creep, he's probably crazy, and he's very connected."

"I imagine he's going to be someone else's problem from now on."

"You said you pressed charges?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe we'll be lucky, and the justice system worked correctly."

"We can pray."

Crossing themselves, the two priests made their way to Wanda's room. She was delighted to meet Father Flannery. "I think it's absolutely fabulous having a priest named Elvis."

"Thank you. Thank you very much," he replied, sounding exactly like the famous King of Rock.

Laughing, Wanda relaxed. Obi and Elvis gave her the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick. By the time they had finished, she was asleep. They contacted Prescott, and headed out to meet him on the ground floor. Father Elvis walked with them.

Emily had lost some of her sparkle. Trudging to the front entrance, she was very quiet.

Obi touched her arm. "I know it's hard to see her like that."

"It's terrible! Mom's always so bubbly and energetic! Nothing gets her down. Nothing! Now, she's puking every five seconds, and losing her hair. It can't be good to pump that poison into her!"

"It does work, Emily. You have to give it time."

"Why can't God just point and heal? Why doesn't He do that? Instead, he kills people with horrible diseases. Why does he do that, Father?"

The men weren't sure which of them she was asking. Exchanging a look, they tried to decide what to tell her. Father Elvis finally spoke.

"God gave us Free Will," he said calmly.

"Are you saying my mother chose to be sick?"

"Not at all. However, we make decisions which can affect our health."

"Maybe so, but she never did anything to deserve this," she sobbed.

"People rarely do. I think it's more a commentary on our world, than on the people affected by disease. We get around toxic people, and soon that wears off on us. Our bodies can stand only so much, before they fall apart."

"Does God engineer it like that?"

"Yes. Can you imagine if we all lived forever?" He shrugged, shaking his head.

"No. It could be quite horrible."

"It would. There's only so much room. When it's gone, it's gone. But being ill, growing older, it's not for the weak. Fighting something like cancer isn't easy. You've got the cancer eating at you, and the chemicals to kill it, eating at it. I have to keep my opinions to myself, a lot of the time. I don't believe in conventional treatments."

"Do you propose we all stop taking medicine, and rely on God?" Emily's temper flared.

"No, child. I propose eating well, exercising, and treating your body with respect. There are natural treatments for cancer, which need to be more fully explored."

"I agree," Obi said. "Sarah's father has talked about it. He's a doctor, Sir Lane," he explained for Father Elvis' benefit.

"He's a good man, an incredible healer. He and I are part of a team, who travel the country talking about how to be healthy. We also share the Godly perspective." He smiled, pointing to himself. "Afterward, we do a healing. Anyone who wants to, can come up and have hands laid on."

©Dellani Oakes 2023

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Old Time Religion ~ A Love in the City Romance by Dellani Oakes – Part 36

"Let Emily have her one on one time," Frankie said. "We'll pick you up later, and stop for a short visit then."

"Sounds good."

"I'll show you to the shower," Wynter offered.

"Take her to the green room," Obi said. At Wynter's blank look, he chuckled. "Make a left at the top of the stairs. First room on the left. It and the pink room, share an adjoining bathroom."

"Thank you. I'll get my overnight bag." She and Wynter headed upstairs.

"Sarah, dear, would you help me with the dishes, please?" Hester said. "And I want to start prepping dinner."

"Honey, dinner is ages away," her husband said, after a look at his watch.

"Making falafels," she replied. "It takes time."

"Yummy! I love those!" Sarah said.

Carrying the dirty dishes to the kitchen, Sarah rinsed while Hester loaded. The men offered to help, but were booted out. Only Frankie was allowed to stay. She started gathering the ingredients, lining them up on the counter.

"I didn't really want to do that anyway," Obi said as he, his father, and brothers settled in the living room.

The other men chuckled.

After showing Emily where to bathe, Wynter joined the women in the kitchen. Emily came down a little later, her hair in damp curls.

"I've got a hair dryer, if you need it." Obi made to rise.

"No, don't worry about it. It if I use a dryer, it frizzes."

"It's chilly at the hospital," Clive warned.

"Then we can wait a little while before we go."

"Just say the word. Randolph Cab Company awaits," Obi said.

"You aren't driving," Clive stated firmly.

"I said Randolph, not just me."

"True."

"I'll be happy to take you," Prescott offered. "Say the word."

"I will. Thank you all so much. I can see that you've been really good for my sisters." Her glance went from Obi to Clive. "I'll go see if they need me in the kitchen. I'm great for opening jars." She flexed and the men noticed she had well defined arms.

"I feel kinda took to shame," Eagle said. "Even I don't have that delineation!"

About an hour later, Prescott took Emily to see her mother. Obi went along, to lead her to the room and check on Wanda. Prescott decided to wait in the cafeteria.

When they got upstairs, the nurses smiled, delighted to meet Emily.

"So good to put a face with the name," Rebecca, the head nurse, said with a smile. "She talks about the three of you non-stop!"

"All good, I hope?" Emily said, looking a little worried.

"Absolutely. She loves you girls so much."

"She's the best mom ever," Emily replied.

"I'll drop in and say hello, then I'll go join Dad. You can call us when you're ready."

When they got to the room, he door was closed. Disturbing sounds reached their ears, like someone vomiting. Emily recoiled, her hand over her face. There wasn't an odor out there, but Obi knew some people were affected by the sound.

"I'll check," he said softly. "Go tell the nurse."

She scurried back to the nursing station. He eased the door open. Wanda sat in bed, a dishpan on her lap. Face white, hands trembling, she looked at him with sorrowful eyes.

"Can't seem to stop," she sobbed. "I tried to call the nurse, but the button—I can't find it."

Obi rushed over, digging the call button from between the railing and mattress. The door opened, and Rebecca came in.

"Are you okay, Wanda? Your daughter said you were sick."

"I can't stop—" Another spasm shook her. Opening her mouth, all she could do was gag over the dishpan. Nothing came out.

"Doctor prescribed anti-nausea meds. I'll be right back."

"I'll sit with her," Obi said.

"I'll let Emily know what's going on," Rebecca said as she left.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this," Wanda whispered. "I know chemo isn't easy, but I feel like I'm going to barf up a lung—I mean that literally. It's so—" she retched again.

Obi held her hair, talking softly to her. When she was done, he got a cool cloth, wiping her face. Rebecca returned with a syringe. She cleaned the IV port, injecting the medication.

"This should help right away. Emily's waiting outside, if you want to see her. I'll run a brush through your hair, and wash your face, shall I?"

"Please. Obi," Wanda gasped, holding out her hand. "Can you give me blessing of the sick?"

"I haven't got my bag, but I can still say the prayers with you."

"Thank you."

"Father Flannery, from St. Winifred's, is at the chapel for Saturday Mass," Rebecca said. "I know it's a different flavor of Catholic, but might he have the things you need?"

"I'll go see." He checked his watch. "Mass should be over shortly." He gave Wanda a soft kiss on the cheek, after washing her face.

Rebecca brushed her hair, tsking a little when some of it came out in her hands. Wanda sobbed again. Obi hugged her, talking quietly, saying prayers and singing to her.

"We knew this would happen," he murmured. "It's part of the process."

"I can't do this," Wanda whimpered. "I can't."

"We'll talk about this when you feel better," he said softly. "This is a big decision."

"I know. You're right. Send Emily in, I feel up to it, now."

"I'll do that, and go check with Father Flannery." Kissing her softly on the brow, he helped her get settled before going out to find Emily. "She's weak, and feels like crap," he said quietly.

©Dellani Oakes 2023

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