Cat In A Quicksilver Caper

“I told you he was smart. He figured out he’d entered the priesthood to be the perfect father because he was born out of wedlock. Then his mother married the most imperfect stepfather she could find.”

Sue’s encouraging expression had curdled with instant understanding. “Poor woman.”

“Girl. So there was”—Temple wouldn’t give away Matt’s name. Talking about him behind his back even with a stranger was bad enough—“my friend, dealing with all that. He says the attraction of celibacy was it was the only way in his church he could be a hero for not having children, which he’s still pretty conflicted about. He knows kids from abusive families can . . . abuse children.”

“And you?”

“Children? I don’t know! I’m single. I’m thirty. It’s hard enough to decide who you love, much less whether you want to add . . . cats-with-souls to the mixture.”

“So, the immediate issue is—?”

“He’s mentioned marriage.”

“Very serious.”

“Being a good ex-UU, I get that! He’s offered, actually proposed that we get a civil marriage here in Las Vegas. As a . . . test run. Then, if we’re compatible, we can remarry back wherever—my home, his home in Chicago—in a religious ceremony, probably ecumenical.”

“And your question is?”

“My question is a lot of things about marrying a devout Catholic and what it would mean to me, but I’m here to ask what this crazy idea means to him. I’ve never had to answer to a demanding religion like he has. I could get married here by Elvis and feel married. Or do a church thing and feel just as committed. But . . . I’m not sure where his plan puts him, in terms of his religion.”

Sue leaned back, tenting her fingers. “I can tell you that he’s seriously sincere.”

“I’ve always known that. It’s one of his best and most aggravating qualities.”

Sue chuckled. “You like him. You really, really like him.”

Temple nodded. “It’s my Sally Field Oscar moment.”

Sue was old enough to recognize the reference. “You could love him.”

“Yeah. Except I’m not mentioning my long-term boyfriend, who’s being pulled in directions he can’t help.”

“Which don’t include you.”

“Probably not.”

Sue inhaled deeply, lowered her head, then lifted it and asked, “Sherry?”

“Yeah.”

The glasses were tiny and exquisite. The sherry was the color of watered-down blood. Temple killed hers with one swallow.

Sue chuckled again. “At least you’re trying to figure this out. Listen. This man, the ex-priest, I don’t think he’s fooling himself. No, this civil marriage plan is not a way out for him. It is for you, if you don’t mind having a Reno divorce on your record. His church would never recognize the validity of a civil marriage. He’d have sinned. But both you and he could start over again, fresh. You’d be a Reno divorcee, not odd at your age. And he would have sinned but he wouldn’t have committed himself to a real marriage, the only kind his faith recognizes, a Catholic one.”

“All this for a free sample?”

“That was you, not him.”

“Oh, God. Oh.”

Sue shook her head and refilled Temple’s glass.

“You two. You’re like a pair of blind people trying to meet in some nonexistent middle.” She leaned forward. “You don’t have Doubt One about your sexual compatibility with this man. You have doubts about your religious compatibility.”

“It’s strange. I don’t want to think about some of these things in advance. I’m okay with sex, marriage, and what next? Who knows what I’ll want in three years? But my not wanting kids right away, or ever, would be a big religious no-no for him and his church. Yet he’s the one with a legitimate reason to worry about that.”

“There are options. Natural family planning, for instance, is accepted by his church. You know, it means abstinence on presumed ‘infertile’ days. It works a lot better these days than when it was take-your-temperature-and-hope forty years ago.”

“I don’t want to think about that. It sounds so . . . clinical. I want to think about who I love and could spend the rest of my life with.”

“What about who loves you?”

Temple smiled, shakily. “I’m lucky. I know two guys do. And I guess I . . . love them both. Is that possible?”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t work very well. I can see you’ll be conflicted no matter which way you go.”

“That sucks! Excuse me, Reverend.”

“The truth often does.”

“He said . . . my ex-priest friend, that he never wanted to confess anything that happened between us.”

“Nor should any seriously sincere person, no matter his religion. I’m afraid, Miss Temple Barr, that you also are a seriously sincere person. It doesn’t make life easy. But it will make it rewarding. Eventually. That doesn’t help, I suppose.”

“You’ve confirmed what I was afraid of. Ma—The ex-priest was thinking of me, not himself, when he came up with that civil marriage stunt. He’d still be in trouble with his faith.”

“You gotta love a guy like that.” Sue smiled.

“Yeah. But the other man has always looked out for me too, even risked his neck. It’s just that he’s been so . . . absent lately. I know he has good, even noble reasons.”