A Beautiful Sin (22 page)

This was going to be a fun night, no matter what I had to do. I swayed against him and his hands tightened on my hips. He dipped his head for a kiss and I allowed it. My lips molded to his and it wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t Canaan. I surprised myself, though. I wound my arms around his neck, proving to myself that I could do this.

He broke away and his half-hooded eyes told me everything I needed to know. He wanted me. But was I willing to go through with it?

“You’re so sexy, Haven.” Then his mouth grazed mine again.

Being brazen, I pulled on his hand, leading him off the dance floor, and down the hallway toward the back where the restrooms were. There were people scattered about and I hunted a place with a little more privacy, when he said, “Follow me.”

I can do this.

He opened a door that appeared to be a supply closet. He flicked the light off and it was so dark I freaked a bit.

“Too dark?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s this?” he asked. There was another switch he flipped that cast the room in a dimmer light. It hit me that he must’ve been in here before, but I didn’t care. I was testing myself more than anything.

“Better.”

His index finger touched the hollow in my neck and went to the first button on my blouse where it stopped. Then he unbuttoned it and his mouth followed his finger. He unbuttoned another one and kept going. I couldn’t lie. It was heating me up somewhat. Until…until his hand reached into my bra to free my breast. All I could imagine was Canaan’s accusatory glare.

“David. Stop. I…I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.”

A confused expression met mine, and I only shook my head.

“You were the one who initiated this,” he said.

“I…I know, and I’m sorry.” I tugged my bra over my boob and buttoned my blouse up. “There’s someone else.” It was all I could come up with, and even though it wasn’t quite true, it also wasn’t a lie either.

He rubbed his hand over his face and nodded. Not saying another word, he whirled around and left me alone in the closet. I could understand why he was pissed. I had led him on and it wasn’t right. Damn Canaan for giving me a guilty conscience.

Macie was sitting at the table when I got there, so I mentioned to her I was ready to leave. She gave me the thumbs up after getting her friend’s number. David was nowhere in sight so we left.

“That was fun, yeah?” Macie asked.

“Yeah. You seemed to hit it off with your guy.”

“He was cool. He said he wanted to go out again. We’ll see. What about David? He was totally into you.”

“It was a disaster,” I explained, but left out the part about Canaan and my guilt.

“Damn, Haven, he’s cute and super sweet. I don’t understand you.”

Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t know. I thought he was nice and all, but I just couldn’t get into him.”

She stopped and grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at her. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Him who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Macie, it’s nobody. I just wasn’t into him.”

“Okay, it was Wilson, the doctor, and now David. How many are you going to go through before you admit it?”

I shook her hand off my arm and walked toward home again.

“Haven?”

I stuck my hand in the air. “Listen, this is my cross to bear and I’ll deal with it.”

“Nice choice of words,” she snickered.

When I realized what I’d said, I busted out laughing. We walked the rest of the way home talking about the music. We decided to get some snacks and nibbled a bit before heading to bed.

After Macie went to bed, I disappeared into my room and found I wasn’t tired enough for sleep. My encounter with David flustered me more than I cared to admit to Macie or myself. The antidote for that was staring me in the face, the cause of my agitation, so I fell into my painting once more. The next image I painted was one of Canaan in his priestly vestments as he said Mass. He was posed in prayer over the altar and his face was a mixture of many things—joy, sorrow, peace, consternation, but as I dug deep, the thing that stood out the most was conflict. Could he possibly be as conflicted as I was?

It was well past two when I finished and I was very pleased. Canaan the priest was completed, and I was on to Canaan ministering to the sick. I pulled from my memory how he looked at Aunt Kathy’s bedside, praying. Black shirt with his white collar, head bowed, holding my aunt’s hand and it was then I realized how much love this man shared with others. He was no ordinary human being. God had gifted him with so much spirituality that he was compelled to offer it up to others.

When I finally crawled into my bed, I thought how fortunate he was, that God had blessed him with such gifts. Those were my last thoughts as sleep took me away.

It was a funny thing, but Canaan’s painting inspired me to finish Macie’s painting. The following day in my studio was frenzied. I painted like my brushes were running on electricity. By day’s end, the piece was near completion. Jonathon was amazed.

“This is stunning,” he said. My first thought was,
He should see what I’m working on at home.
But no one would ever see that. It would never leave there, and never be for sale.

“Yeah. I love it. And Macie will too.”

“Does she know?”

“Sort of. I’ve hinted, but this is her dedication as my best friend ever piece.”

Jonathon stared at me. “I take it you have her permission to sell it.”

“I haven’t asked.”

“Haven, it’s sold already.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t as worried about it as he was. If Macie wanted it, I’d figure something out with the buyer.

He bumped into my thoughts. “You’re not worried about this, are you?”

“Nope. I can give them something else.”

“Haven, they want this.”

“They haven’t even seen this.”

He shifted about and glanced away, which alerted me immediately. “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.

“They have seen it.” He actually had the grace to flush.

“When? It’s been in my studio the whole time. I thought we had an agreement. All work in my studio was off-limits.”

“Yeah, well, about that. It was a high-paying client and they asked. I broke the rule. I apologize. I should’ve told you about that.”

“Yes, you should’ve. You have a lot to explain to them, then. If Macie gives her approval, fine. If not, it’s a no go. I’ll be happy to paint them something else.”

“Come on, Haven. You’ve got to help me out here.”

“I’m sorry, Jonathon. You should’ve told me about this. I’ll talk to Macie, but I can’t make any promises. Macie is her own person.”

“Tell her she can have my commission.”

I laughed. “Do you think I was going to take the money I earned off this? I planned on giving it to her anyway.”

I got a huge kick out of watching his jaw drop. I had lived on very little for so long, giving up the money from one painting wouldn’t hurt me at all.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” I went back to painting. But he’d destroyed my concentration, so after a half hour, I decided to call it a day.

I unlocked my door, walked into the apartment, and went directly to my room. When I looked at the painting, it conjured up a memory of Canaan from long ago—as an altar boy. And it wasn’t long before that piece of the puzzle was on its way to being completed.

The next evening, when Macie came home, I told her about my confrontation with Jonathon. “This is the second time he’s fucked with my shit.”

“What are you going to do?”

I looked at her pointedly. “It’s not up to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Were you not listening to me? This is your painting, so basically you hold all the rights to it. If you don’t want to sell, we don’t sell. My idea was to give you the option and if you decided to, then the money was yours.”

She laughed. Crazy laughed. “I want the money. You can always paint me again.”

“Listen to me first. I won’t be able to paint exactly that. And if I become super famous, that painting could be worth triple that someday.”

Macie laughed, “You’re my friend. I can get another one. I’ll sell.”

“Don’t you want to see it first?”

“No, because then I might change my mind. Oh, and I will not take all the money. We’ll do a fifty-fifty split.”

“I’ll let Jonathon know, but I’m going to tell him he owes you his commission because I had to beg you to sell.” I winked at her.

“Oh, Haven, that’s the best. He doesn’t deserve to make a cent on this one.” Then we high-fived.

When I told Jonathon about Macie’s decision the following day, it was like I’d handed him the world. He grabbed and hugged me. This was one of the rare times he ever did this.

“Thank you, Haven. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if she had said no.”

“It took a ton of begging and you won’t make a dime on this one.”

His smile didn’t waver. “It’s worth it to keep that client pleased.”

“Whoa. This must be some client for you to say that.”

“It is. You’ll see when you meet him.”

“If you say so.” In reality, I was grateful that I had admirers such as these. But Jonathon’s behavior still pissed me off.

When the weekend hit, Macie gave me hell on Saturday. “You’re not going to church for the right reasons. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. You’re going for all the wrong reasons.”

“No, I’m not,” I argued. “I want to go and I want to get to know him as a priest. I can’t do either if I don’t go to church, right?”

Her raised brow only emphasized her skepticism. “You can try to convince yourself all you want, but this chica isn’t stupid.” She pounded herself in the chest with her thumb. Then she stomped away in a huff.

I checked the time and knew I had to get a move on if I was going to make it in time. So I hurried over to the train station and impatiently waited for the L. By the time I got to the church, I’d barely made it to the pew when the music started playing. I wasn’t going to lie to myself—seeing him walk down the aisle made my heart beat faster, and I hoped I didn’t look like a lovesick idiot because that was exactly how I felt.

Mass was finally ended and pangs of remorse hit me. Instead of my soul being filled with the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, all I thought of was Haven as she occupied one of the seats in the front pew. Afterward, I was brief with each of the parishioners as they spoke to me. At all the other services with Haven not in attendance, I engaged in conversation with as many of them as I could in order to expand my knowledge of them. Not today. The Clarks approached me, and in good conscience, I couldn’t avoid them.

“Father Canaan, we wanted to let you know that the therapist you recommended is excellent. We’ve had one session and will continue to see him,” Greg said. The absolute terror he’d worn on his face the first time I saw him had lessened. His wife nodded and gave me a tight smile. They would have a long road of recovery, but I was relieved by this piece of information. A small weight had been lifted off my shoulders. They left and others approached me.

Haven’s stare bore into me. Or that was the excuse I gave myself when I found I was more rushed and a bit short in my conversation with those who waited to speak to me. Finishing up with those duties, I entered the church and saw her seated a few rows up, but one of the altar servers stopped me. In my haste, I almost didn’t notice him.

“Father Canaan, I’ve brought everything from the altar into the sacristy. The only things left are the consecrated hosts, and you have to do that.”

I chuckled. This boy was always a bit overeager to please. “Thank you, Joey. I’ll take care of that. You’re free to leave.”

“Okay, Father. See you Monday at school. My dad’s taking me to the Cubs game tomorrow. Have you ever been?”

“Yes, I have, but it’s been a while. I hope you have a great time. Let me know how you like it.”

His big eyes lit up, reminding me of spotlights, and I had to stop myself from chuckling.

“I will, Father. Well, see ya.” With a wave, he was out the door.

My attention back on Haven, I saw her head slant and her body shook with silent laughter. She must’ve overheard Joey talking to me. I slid into the pew next to her.