Resolution - First Year

by Jan Milnes

DAY SEVEN - ONE WEEK

Andrew looked in on his brother before heading off to work that morning. Peter was sound asleep for a change. However,
when Andrew returned home that evening, Peter was nowhere to be found. There was a very brief note saying that he may be
out quite late that night. Don’t worry about him. Andrew was concerned about that but could do nothing.
 

DAY TEN:

Peter was still in as tight a shell as Andrew had ever seen him. Peter was a tidy houseguest and helped out as he could. He
went for walks early in the morning just like he used to in Ballyk. Sometimes he was gone for hours. He never said where he
went or what he did. He probably didn’t know himself. But he did really seem to just enjoy their company, especially when
they weren’t pelting him with questions.

On Sunday, they asked if he wanted to go with them to Church. He declined mumbling something about how it wasn’t
appropriate. Andy and Liz just looked at each other but said nothing. Peter did not elaborate and went into the next room to
watch TV.

After Mass, Father Randall asked if they had heard anything from Peter.

"Well, not much of anything, Father. Why do you ask?" said Andrew.

"I have just been thinking a lot about him lately, how he’s getting on."

"Have you heard what happened in Ireland?"

"Yes. Is he with you now?"

"Yes."

"Good. I’m very glad to hear that. I heard that he was coming this way. Has he talked to you?"

"No, only that he didn’t want to get into why he left there. What do you know?"

"Something that he will have to reconcile himself."

"In other words, let him tell it… Did he do something wrong?"

"No. But it is good he is with you. He needs to withdraw and heal. He’s suffered a terrible loss but, hopefully, he will learn
much from it. Just give him your support and love."

"Of course. Why wouldn’t I? He’s my brother."
 

DAY TWELVE:

One evening, the three of them were finishing dinner. Elizabeth was relating a funny incident that happened at work. All three of
them were laughing.

"Liz, you better stop, my sides are really hurting," said Peter.

"Oh, I’m sorry."

"No, no, it’s OK. Don’t worry," said Peter who then fell silent and stared at his plate, wondering how long it had been since he
had just laughed.

"Penny for your thoughts, big brother."

"I hardly think they’re worth it."

Andrew just stared at him.

"Oh, all right. I was just thinking how long it had been since I’ve laughed."

"You’re feeling better, then?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"Good, it will be nice when you’re out and about again," said Andrew.

"You want to get rid of me?"

"No, big guy, you know that."

Peter went back to staring at his plate. "So, my thoughts is what you want, is it? OK…Where do you want me to
start?"

"Tell us about Ireland," offered Liz.

He knew that was coming.  "It’s a long story."

"OK. Tell you what, let’s clean up and then go in the other room and you can tell us."

That’s just what they did. Andrew followed them in with some wine.

Peter looked questioningly at him. Andrew caught the look and said, "What? You don’t want any?"

"You know me."

"Well, I used to. But the person that’s here now is a bit of a stranger."

"Yeah, I guess you’re right." He had to smile at that. He accepted the wine from his brother and sat down. Peter looked away
for a bit and then said, "It is a beautiful country. Ballykissangel is one of those quaint picturesque villages nestled in a river
valley. The townspeople were very friendly. There was one who became a good friend, Assumpta. She was the most intelligent
person I have ever met, beautiful, too. She ran the local pub…"

"Ah, I see the attraction…" teased Andrew.

"Yeah, right…Anyway, she hated the clergy. But, after the first few weeks, I think she realized that I was different. She would
always make caustic remarks when other clergy, especially Father Mac who was the parish priest I worked for, walked in. She
treated me different maybe because it seemed to her that I irritated Father Mac even more than she did." Peter chuckled to
himself at that. "In any event, we became friends --- just friends, guys. This wasn’t another Jenny and I wasn’t going to let her
become one. I’d learned my lesson about that…Jenny came to Ballyk shortly after I had arrived, did you know that?"

"What did you tell her?" asked Liz.

"Well, what could I tell her? I said that I had been transferred here and had no choice but to go…not a lie but not the entire
truth either and I think she knew it. I told her that there was no us and that, if I had lead her to believe otherwise, I was sorry.
She knew, though, even better than I did, what would happen." Looking at Andy’s and Liz’s face, he added, "She said it would
happen again."

"Becoming attracted to a woman?" asked Andrew.

"Yes. I, of course, knew she was wrong. I was God’s gift to the priesthood, after all, wasn’t I? But, really, Assumpta and I
were friends. She would occasionally date other men, which I had to say did bother me a bit but nothing came of it. I guess I
naively assumed that things would continue on like that.

"I loved Ballyk. I’ve told you that before. It was so different, so beautiful, so peaceful. I was accepted into the community and
made many friends. I know it would have been a lot harder if I had been anything other than a priest. I know that I was given a
lot of trust just by virtue of being the local priest. But I also believe they liked me for myself, as well."

"You can make friends with just about everyone, that’s for sure. I envy you that, bro."

"Careful, careful, now. Envy is a sin," teased Peter.

"Ah, so the priest is here finally." Andrew settled back in his chair.

"I really don’t know," Peter answered softly.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…"

"No, that’s ok. I’m getting to the priest part of it. You remember I told you about the statue incident? Well, I don’t think I told
you what happened afterwards.

"There was a development proposed for a lot just outside of town near the river. Some of the locals were dead set against it
and they tried to recruit me in their cause. Well, you know my opinion about those issues, and so I declined. Apparently, they
also tried to recruit Assumpta and she also turned them down but for other reasons. Anyway, they were planning on holding an
all-night vigil at the site. Well, around midnight, I thought they could use some hot coffee and sandwiches so I fixed some up
and drove out there. Not five minutes later, Assumpta drives up with the same idea."

"Great minds think alike."

"Yeah, right. The night was colder than the protesters, all three of them, had prepared for so they left to go get some warmer
attire. Like I said, it was cold so I invited Assumpta to sit in my car to stay warm."

"Alone with a beautiful woman late at night in a car? My brother the Priest gets all the luck." Liz threw a pillow at Andrew.

Peter just ignored him and continued. "We sat there for a time in silence. I was strongly affected by her presence and the
thought that kept going through my mind was how unfair the church was to condone idolatry but insist on celibacy. Dangerous
thoughts, huh? Well, it was cold. We started talking and I asked if she were cold. I took her hand. It was very cold. I held both
her hands in mine and, I guess I crossed the line. When she didn’t pull away, I drew her closer to me. At first, she was quite
rigid, but, when she saw that I stopped at that point, she relaxed and let me hold her." Peter paused as tears returned. "It felt so
right to be there with her, just holding her. I had never felt like that before. Not with any other woman I had ever known. I was
trying to put my feelings into words but I felt totally inept and didn’t know what to say and before I could think of anything the
others returned. We drove back separately to Ballyk. I should have left it there, but I didn’t.

"I went down to Fitzgerald’s…that’s the pub she ran. The door was unlocked, so I went in. She was in the kitchen, cleaning
up. I offered to help and we tidied up. Afterwards, she offered me a brandy and we sat by the fire, in silence. She got up to
tend the fire and, when she walked past me, I took her hand and had her sit beside me. I just wanted to hold her again, that’s
all, at least, that’s all I’d admit to then…I did hold her, but she started kissing me and I…er…I responded. Before it went
much further, I pulled away saying, ‘Assumpta, I’m a priest.’ She retorted, ‘That’s fine. Be a priest.’ She got up and I knew I
had better leave. So I did. I didn’t get the chance to say anything more and I was mad at myself for the stupid words I chose.

"It took me the longest time to go to sleep that night…and, no, it wasn’t for the obvious reason. I was just wondering if I could
remain a priest much longer, if I even wanted to remain a priest. I must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing I
know, a bell is ringing. I had forgotten I had a funeral that morning and overslept. Father Mac was there to assist me and read
me the riot act for being late. I deserved it. Apparently someone had seen me leave the pub late and reported it to him.

"Anyway, after that I just went down by the river to think. I finally decided that I needed to talk with Father Mac about being a
Priest. I told him I was having doubts about my vocation. He knew even better that I did that it was due to my feelings for
Assumpta. He told me in so many words that I had better get my priorities straight and stop cavorting with the local barmaid.
Anyway, he ordered me to go on retreat or leave Ballyk right then and there.

"I wasn’t ready to leave, so I had no choice but to go on retreat. When I told Assumpta that, she was disgusted and accused
me of still being on the fence. How right she was…I was too afraid. I never realized how vulnerable one feels when one is in
love and doesn’t know for sure that it is being returned much less whether it should even be pursued. I couldn’t tell her what I
was going through. She was the one person I should have been talking to. If I had, maybe things would be different."

"How so?" asked Andrew.

"Let me get to that. Anyway, I returned from retreat to find Assumpta gone, my house rented out, my car acting up and Father
Mac ill which meant that I had to take over the whole parish since the other two priests were both on retreat. I was being run
ragged. Then, Mom got ill and I came home.

"When I returned to Ballyk, I had made up my mind to talk to her, but wasn’t sure how to. When I finally did, I guess I came
on too strong and scared her off. The next day, though, we talked and I told her how I felt. I did tell her that I still wanted it
both ways but that I knew I had to choose. She finally respected that. She also told me how she felt about me, that she found it
impossible to get me out of her head. Afterwards, I went into the church and prayed and, finally, I knew what the answer was.
I had to have her in my life…I loved her…I would do whatever it took, whatever she wanted. I just didn’t want her to ever
leave me."

Peter buried his face in his hands. Finally, he continued quietly. "That night, after I told her that I loved her and wanted to marry
her, the lights in the pub went out. She went down into the cellar to fix it and was electrocuted."

Andrew and Liz both reached out to Peter who accepted their embrace as he let his emotions go. "Peter, I’m sorry. We had no
idea." Eventually, Peter let them go and went into the living room. He turned on the TV but wasn’t watching anything. After a
bit, the other two joined him.

"I hope you see why I had to leave there."

"Yeah…so what are you going to do now?" asked Andrew.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Don’t have a clue. I guess I’ll still be some kind of priest. What else can I do?"

"Probably lots of things. What do you want to do?"

"Dunno really. I feel lost."

Andrew thought about what brought his brother back to England. Although it didn’t surprise him that he fell in love, it did
bother him that he would leave the priesthood. His brother had just seemed like a natural in that role. Was there more to it than
he was saying?

"Peter, is it only because of Assumpta that you were ready to give up being a priest?"

"Not entirely, no," Peter quietly replied. He got up and went over to the window to stare off into space.

"Something else then?"

Peter remained aloof. Andy and Liz watched him, waiting. After a few minutes, Peter said, "Maybe Dad was right after all...
God, I don’t know what I want. I have been happy in the priesthood but it is so lonely. That’s what is becoming more and
more difficult to live with. "

"You’ve always been around people. You’ve always enjoyed helping people. What’s different now?"

"Yeah, I still enjoy that but, ever since my ordination, there’s been a barrier that wasn’t there before. No one cares about the
man wearing the suit."

"I don’t think that’s true for a moment, Peter," said Liz.

Peter differed with her and proceeded to vent about all the run-ins he had had with Father Mac. He also told them of his strong
feeling of belonging he got just from being in Ballykissangel. He did acknowledge that there was a lot of satisfaction and
pleasure from serving his congregation, by helping people and by serving God. Finally, he told them what it was truly like to be
a priest.

"If it were just a job like any other, I would be very happy and content. But it is not. There is one requirement that sets it apart
from any other job. And, damn it, yes, I knew celibacy was a condition of ordination. I thought there would be no problem."
He turned back to the window before continuing, "But it didn’t occur to me then that there was more to celibacy than just
abstaining from sex. It also meant having no one there for you. No companion. Each night I go home to my house and it is
silent, empty. No one there. Night after night after night. … For the rest of my life. … And I reached the point where I could
not stand the loneliness anymore." He fell silent. "Now, there is truly nothing for me but loneliness."

Peter was telling them things about being a priest that they never had thought about. They both knew of his strong faith but did
not realize its implications. Thinking about the priests they had known though, they were beginning to understand why Peter was
becoming more and more dissatisfied with his chosen life. His compassionate nature was a two edged sword.

"You’re leaving still?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know. I just want something to go right for me for a change. I just need to think. I don’t
know if I can stand in front of a congregation again. But, what else can I do? It is all I know. So, for the time being, I guess I
am still Father Clifford." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "For lack of anything better."

"What if it happens again?"

"What? I fall in love?" He shook his head. "I will never find another Assumpta."

"No. But you might find someone else. Then what?"

This raised Peter’s ire a little and he replied, "If it does, I will deal with it then. As for the other part, though, I guess I still don’t
know what I believe in anymore. But, until that gets sorted, what else can I do? What else should I do?" Peter was getting
irritated.

Andrew saw that he was getting upset and decided to push him even further. "First Anna, now Assumpta."

"What?" He just looked at his brother. The infamous Clifford temper was rising rapidly.

"Have you ever gotten over Anna?"

Peter lost his temper. "What in hell does she have to do with this? How dare you bring her up now." He stormed out of the flat.

"Andrew, you really tweaked his chain. Why?"

"I guess I was seeing him doing the same thing with this Assumpta that he had done before."

When Andrew did not continue, Liz prompted, "And that is?"

"My brother is a very caring person, but, when it comes to talking about his feelings, he is the tightest piece of work I’ve ever
known. This is the first time he’s ever let anything out. You would think nothing bothers him but, when he thinks no one is
looking, he lets his guard down. His temper just seems to be simmering below the surface. If he didn’t have his football, I
sometimes think he would explode. He keeps an awful lot bottled up inside. He always has even before he added a collar."

"I bet you and your brothers took turns aggravating him."

"Well, we tried but it was Dad who was the best at it."

"Why was your Dad on his case?"

"Not really sure. Dad always seemed to be harsher on Peter than the rest of us. He seemed to want Peter to be someone
different. Maybe he just never liked him at some level."

"How can you say that?"

"All parents love their children, Liz. It’s just, sometimes, they may not like the child’s personality. I think he thought Peter was
too easy going. He was always looking at the good side of people and things. Dad thought he was far too naïve."

"That doesn’t sound like the Peter I know."

"No. But they did have many arguments over everything."

"Wasn’t happy with him being a Priest, I suppose."

"Well, Peter didn’t bring that up to him until after he had applied to the seminary. No, they just argued about anything and
everything. The last time he saw Dad alive, he had come home for a holiday intending to stay a week. They had a huge
argument and he left the next day."

"What was that argument about?"

"You know, I don’t remember but I’m sure Peter does. It may have had something to do with becoming a Priest or something
to do with Anna. I’m not sure which. It may have been something completely different. They were home alone at the time."

"So what does this have to do with Anna?"

Andrew told her.

*****

Peter walked out of the flat in a fury. His brother was forcing him to deal with another painful incident in his life. He had just
shoved that aside in his typical fashion.

Anna. He had not forgotten about her. How could he? They were very close at University. She wanted them to live together,
but he, raised a good Catholic, would have nothing of that. It became an issue. She accused him of not loving her and finally
gave him the ultimatum that they would either live together or she would leave him.

He had loved her. Maybe he should have been clearer about his beliefs and why he did not feel he could sleep with anyone until
marriage. But there was something else that he could not bring himself to say to her. He had not yet admitted to anyone that he
was seriously considering becoming a priest. He didn’t think anyone would believe him, certainly not his father. No, he felt
rather embarrassed about his ‘old school’ religion, as she termed it, and left those words unsaid. You can’t explain to someone
what you yourself don’t fully understand.

It was late at night. They had been out to a concert that she was performing in. He enjoyed it very much. The concert had
gone very well and they both were in excellent moods. They had been dating for quite a while and were very much in
love. She invited him into her flat.

"Brandy?"

"Thanks." He followed her into the kitchen where she poured their drinks. He stood behind her and started nuzzling her
neck.

"If you want your drink, you’d better stop that," she informed him.

"Hmmm, let me think about that. Brandy or your neck." He settled for her neck. His hands went around her waist and
pulled her to him.

She stood there enjoying the feeling. His hands were creeping upward towards her breasts. Cupping them in his hands,
he hugged her. She melted into his arms, enjoying the contact immensely. He turned her around finally and kissed her.

She pulled away after a bit and asked, "Do you really want brandy?"

"What else do you have?"

She kissed him.

"I much prefer that." He led her over to the couch and sat down with her on his lap. After kissing for a while, she got off
his lap and took his hands to lead him to her bedroom. He did not get up. She pulled him. He pulled her back to him and
said, "I love you."

"I know. Come with me."

"No."

"I want to make love with you."

"I love you."

"Show me. Come with me."

"No. It’s just not right."

With that, she dropped his hands. The mood was definitely shattered. She was furious with him. "I don’t get it. We love
each other. Why can’t we sleep together?"

"It’s not right."

"Says who?"

He shrugged. "Me."

"You and your old-time religion."

"Call it what you will. I love you but I won’t sleep with you."

She gave up. "Then what will you do with me?"

She really believed Peter would be hers forever. It didn’t end up that way, of course. Although the reason why it ended
was something Anna did not expect at all.

The end of summer was approaching. Anna had been accepted in graduate school along with Peter. She fully expected
him to be with her come fall and the start of the new term. However, as the time for that approached, Peter was starting to
withdraw from her. She didn’t think too much of it at first.

For his part, he couldn’t stop thinking about what the coming fall would bring. He was unusually quiet. He knew what he
had to do and say but he did not want to hurt her feelings. He spent a long time trying to find the right words, but never
did.

One evening early in September, Anna asked him if he were interested in sharing a flat. He hemmed and hawed and
delayed answering that as long as he could. Finally, she pressed the issue. He turned down that idea which just amazed
her.

"Peter, I don’t understand you. You were talking about living together. You told me you wanted me always with you. Now,
I find a perfectly good flat and you’re telling me no. What is happening?"

"Nothing."

"I know you better than that. You’ve been very quiet these past few days. Tell me what you’re feeling now."

 "I do love you."

"I don’t doubt that for an instant. Why can’t we live together?"

"It’s just not right."

"When did you change your mind? Why did you?"

"I’ve told you why not before. It hasn’t changed."

"Well, maybe we should just get married then."

Peter was silent. Anna was watching him intently for some sign of what he was thinking. She might as well have been
looking at a statue. She was getting very frustrated at his silence. "Peter, what is the matter?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. He couldn’t figure out what words to say. He knew they needed to talk, but
he did not want to lose her just yet. He felt like he was sitting on a fence. So far, though, he liked the fence post. He did
feel a strong calling towards the priesthood as well as a strong love for Anna. But he knew which path he would take. He
just wanted to hold on to her as long as he could. He knew it wasn’t right, fair or proper by her but he just couldn’t let
her go quite yet.

She was really becoming annoyed now. "Peter, for God’s sake, will you tell me what in hell is going on in your head?

He muttered something incomprehensible while staring at his feet.

She thought she misunderstood. She got right up into his face and asked him to repeat what he had just said.

With much sadness, he took her face in his hands and said, "I’m sorry." Not moving she just looked at him and waited for
him to continue. He soon did. "I’m not going to University next month."

She was floored. Whatever she had been expecting, it definitely was not that. "Where will you be?"

He looked away, sighed and looked her square in the eye and answered, "At Allen Hall."

"What’s that?"

"A seminary."

The questioning look on her face changed to one of disbelief. "Seminary?"

He nodded.

She broke away from him and started walking angrily around the room. "So that’s it, then? We’re through? And just
when were you planning to let me know this? The day you left? I’m sure it wouldn’t have been the night before."

"That’s a cheap shot."

"Well, what do you expect? I thought we would always be together. It seems that it wasn’t that long ago that you felt that
way, too. What has changed?"

"Nothing."

 "Peter, are you turning into a liar now?"

"Anna, this has nothing to do with you."

"What in hell are you talking about?"

 "I mean, well, it is not because of anything you’ve done or not done. I don’t want to hurt you."

 "How long have you been planning this?"

"In truth, I’ve thought about it off and on all my life. It’s just that I feel a strong pull in that direction."

 "So, that was why we never slept together? You knew you were going to be a priest?"

"I wasn’t certain."

"And what was I? The final fling? What are you playing at? I thought you loved me."

 "I do." He quickly said.

"Then how can you do this to me after all we’ve meant to each other?"

"Anna, I do love you. It’s just..."

"I suppose this seminary isn’t Church of England."

"No."

"Roman Catholic."

"Of course. What did you expect?"

 "Tell me, what is your definition of celibacy?"

 "Anna, that is different."

"How can you want the priesthood, want to be a role model and be sleeping around?"

"I haven’t been sleeping around."

"So, I wasn’t your first but I’ll be your last, is that it?"

"I’m just trying to explain."

"This ought to be grand. I’m all ears."

Peter began. He told her of what he had been going through these past months. How he felt torn in two directions but
finally decided that the priesthood was the stronger way. He apologized for not being honest with her, but he just was not
sure before. Until he was, he didn’t want to jeopardize anything with her. He knew he had to make up his own mind. He
realized now how selfish he was but he didn’t know what else he could have done.

"You have every right to be angry with me because I should have told you earlier. I tried but I just didn’t know what to
say. I was being stupid and selfish, I know. I do love you, Anna. I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to
marry you. But, the more I thought and prayed about it, the more I came to realize that God had a different path for me.
How can I make you understand that?"

"Peter, what are you afraid of?"

"Fear has nothing to do with it. It just is something I need to do. As much as I love you, I can’t marry you. Maybe we
should have just stayed friends. It would make this so much easier because I know I’ve hurt you terribly."

"You have, Peter. You led me on. You used me."

"No, it wasn’t like that at all."

"We had talked about getting married."

"Yeah, I know."

"What was that all about?"

"Anna, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I guess I wanted it both ways."

"Yeah? What were you thinking when we were together then? Better get my fill now because I won’t be getting any for the
rest of my life."

"Anna, I do love you. I really enjoy being with you. You know that."

She ignored him. "No more women for the rest of your life . That’s what it seems like."

"Anna, celibacy isn’t the issue here."

"No? So if priests could marry, we would continue on as if nothing had happened? I don’t think so. Why are you
throwing away your education, your prospects of a decent job for a life of poverty? I don’t understand that at all."

"I’m not throwing anything away…"

"Besides me, you mean."

"Anna, I want to do this. It is right for me to do this. I believe it to be God’s will."

"And was it God’s will to use me? One last fling before stifling yourself in a suit?"

"Maybe we should talk about this later." He turned away and started for the door.

"Peter, walk out that door and I will never speak to you again."

"Ok, ok. But will you listen to me?" He went back towards her. "I am very sorry I hurt you. I never meant for this to hurt
you. You will find another man to love, to marry. I am just saying that I cannot and will not take that role. I do love you
but my future is with the Church. It is clear to me. To deny that would be impossible. Call me stupid, selfish, spineless or
what you will, I know what I’m doing."

"Some priest you’ll be, Peter. You’ll never last. The vow of celibacy will do you in."

Peter sighed and threw up his hands. "Well, if it does, then so be it. Anna, I have to try at least. I need to do this. Do you
understand even a little?"

But there was only anger. "I understand quite well how you used me. You’re no priest and you know it. What are you
running away from? Responsibility? Are you so uncertain of yourself that you need to hide behind a collar? Afraid of a
serious relationship with a woman?"

He looked at her in astonishment. "Anna, how can we have been together all this time and you think I need to hide behind
anything? You know how important my faith is to me. It has always been a large part of my life. It still is. You know that
this is true. I’ve never hidden that side from you. You have shared in it from time to time as well. Yes, I enjoy being with
people, partying with people, all that. I enjoy people. I also want to help people."

"Then be a goddamn shrink."

"That’s not the way I believe people should be helped."

"Peter the missionary, is that it?"

"This is getting nowhere. You are far too angry to listen to me."

"Well, that’s the first right thing you’ve said all night."

"Everything I’ve said is true."

"It may well be, in your opinion. I just wish your truth had been said much earlier."

"I tried…"

She cut him off with a gesture. "Get the hell out of here. I never want to see you again."

"Anna," he started towards her. She stood her ground. He came and held her face in his hands and said, "Anna, I do
love you. I always will love you. But there are many kinds of love. I can not be your lover, your husband. For that, I am
sorry. I do love you. I treasure our friendship. I always will." Tears were in his eyes and he was struggling to control
them. He held her face a little longer before he left. He stood on her porch for a while wondering if there was anything
else he could say to ease the pain he knew he had caused her. A few times he almost went back inside but, in the end, he
avoided dealing with the issue. He walked down the street towards his home. They never saw each other again.

He spent a long time walking around trying to sort out how he could have handled the whole subject better. She was
right. He should have talked to her about the priesthood. Why did he feel reluctant? Maybe because he had already had
enough arguments from his father and he just didn’t want to hear any more. Who knows? He got home early in the
morning. He finally went to sleep around 5 AM.

After his breakup, he withdrew from both friends and family. He tried several times to contact Anna but she would have
nothing to do with him.

The only interaction he had was with Andrew and his mother. She was trying to attempt reconciliation between him and
his father, but it never happened. His father just couldn’t accept the fact that Peter sought a religious life. My son, so
gifted academically, wants to throw his life away for what? If he wants to help people, he should be a doctor like me. Not a
priest.

"Dad, I must do this."

"All that money we spent on your education, to just throw it away."

"I don’t see how you can say that."

"I’m sure you can’t. What in hell are you afraid of? Just because you broke up with Anna, there will be other women."

"Anna has nothing to do with this. Dad, I made up my mind last spring to pursue this path."

"Why didn’t you tell me then?"

"Because you…because we would have been arguing the point all summer."

"I thought you had more sense. I guess you’re just too naïve to make it in the real world. Go on, live in a fantasyland."

"It is not a fantasyland. It is what I believe in. If you can’t accept that, it is your problem, not mine."

As was typical with Clifford arguments, especially between these two participants, the volume was tremendous. Both were
shouting at each other, to the vast amusement of the three younger brothers. Their mother was running an errand. She
arrived home and came between them.

"Will you both stop this? You’re not even listening to each other."

"Mom, he doesn’t understand."

"Peter is throwing his life away."

"With respect, I disagree."

"Can you two possibly agree to disagree on this? Peter, you have to understand your father only wants what is best for
you."

"And he knows better than I do?"

"He does have the benefit of experience."

"His experience, not mine."

With that, his dad left the room. His Mother turned back to him. "Peter, I know the strength of your belief. Your dad does
not understand it at all. I think I understand a little, but you have to recognize how hard this is for him."

"I know it is, but why can’t he at least not debate me every single time he sees me?"

"Because you both are very stubborn men."

Twenty-two days afterwards, he entered the seminary.

*****

Liz sat there stunned. Finally, she asked Andrew, "Why did you bring that up now? Doesn’t he have enough to think about?"

"Liz, I love my brother. But he never ever talks about himself, what he is feeling. He keeps everything inside and doesn’t ever
seem to deal with it. I saw how he was after they broke up. He never ever spoke about her again at least to me and shortly
after that he entered the seminary."

"Because of her?"

"No. He had already planned to do that. He even told me about it that July. I just assumed he also told her then. I guess he
didn’t."

"Was he leading her on?"

"I don’t know. Like I said, he doesn’t discuss his feelings on those kinds of subjects. He probably avoided it until too late."

"Did he think she would just go away? You said they were in love."

"Definitely. They made a great couple."

"How long did it take him to tell her that he was going to seminary?"

"Well, let’s just put it this way, he was accepted in April to start the following September. Want to guess when they split?"

She laughed. "September."

"You got it."

"He knew for five months?"

"Well, actually a year or more since there is a long admissions process or whatever they call it. But, in his defense, he didn’t
make up his mind until July."

"Did they, em…?"

"I would think so. He wasn’t born a priest."

"No wonder she was ticked off."

"Yeah. It sure sounds like he didn’t learn much from that, either."

"How can he be so good with others and so inept when it comes to his own affairs?"

"Well, who knows? Maybe it’s his way of avoiding temptation."

"He always seemed to enjoy being a Priest, Andy. He’s always been so happy and at peace with himself. If there were more
Priests like him, people would be pouring into the place. He is so personable that you can’t help but like him."

"People always like Peter, Liz. What I was going to say is that this is the worst I’ve ever seen him."

"I know what you mean. He wasn’t like that when your mother died."

"No, he was the Priest and the brother. Now, I don’t know who he is. He talks like my brother but he sure doesn’t act like
him."

"Andy, you’ve got to give him time. He obviously loved Assumpta very much and this loss has cut him to the bone especially
since it hasn’t been that long since your Mom died. If he feels he needs to hide away from life for a while, what harm is there in
that? Think how you would feel if I died. He needs to grieve. He probably hasn’t ever grieved in his life; not for losing Anna,
not for your parents and not yet for Assumpta."

He scoffed at that idea. "He’s not grieving. He’s hiding."

"Then let him hide for a while. He clearly needs to."

"But he of all people ought to know about grieving. He has counseled many, many people."

"Knowing about it intellectually is different than dealing with it personally, Andrew."
 

DAY THIRTEEN:

Peter got back to the flat in the wee hours of the morning. Later that day, Peter left the house and went to his old Church, his
first assignment. He had not been in any Church since he left Ballyk. As he had hoped, the place was empty. He went in and sat
at the rear. He stared at the altar and the crucifix hanging above it. He took his rosary out from his pocket and tried saying it,
but the words felt flat. He thought of other words but nothing helped. He bowed his head wondering if indeed Father Clifford
had died with Assumpta. How ironic would that be, he thought. I couldn’t shed the collar while she was alive, now I can’t
seem to find it after her death. Once again, unbidden tears came to his eyes. He felt so lost and alone. She was gone and it
looked like his faith was still missing. Nothing was left. What was he going to do?

*****

Mary walked through the sanctuary to restock some pamphlets in the racks. She got halfway there when she recognized Peter.
Mary immediately turned around to get Father Randall. Peter didn’t notice.

"Father Clifford? It’s good to see you again. May I join you?"

Peter looked up, startled. "Of course, Father." He turned his head and attempted to put up a brave front.

"Before you say anything, you should know that Bishop Costello has told me what has happened. How are you?"

Peter just slumped down in the pew. "I wish I knew, Father."

Peter’s posture of defeat really alarmed Father Randall. "You’re staying with Andrew and Elizabeth, I suppose?"

"Yeah."

"How are they?"

"Fine." Peter stared up at the altar. Father Randall waited for him to continue. Finally Peter turned to him. "I never knew love
could cause such pain, Father," he quietly said.

The two men sat there in silence. "The wound does heal eventually, Peter."

Peter nodded but said nothing.

"What are your plans?"

He shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to think about that subject. "I’m not going back to Ireland, if that’s what you mean."

"What are you going to do in England then?"

"Not sure. Not sure what I should do. Not sure what I can do."

"You know you are always welcome here, if that is what you want."

"I just am not sure if I can do this anymore."

"Because you fell in love?"

"Among other things."

"Nobody is perfect. Not even the clergy."

"Good thing."

"So why are you requiring it of yourself?"

"I’m not."

"No? You fell in love therefore you think you are unworthy of being a priest. You kept true to your promises."

"For all the good it did," Peter muttered.

"OK. I know you’re not perfect. You abandoned your congregation when you were under extreme duress. You abandoned
your responsibilities but you are human, Peter. For God’s sake, stop holding yourself to such high standards. No one can live
up to that."

He shook his head. "Father, that’s not it. I have never felt like a fraud at the altar before. When I conducted that Christening, it
felt like I was just playing a role, one I no longer believed in."

"Why did you do it?"

"Out of friendship for the parents."

"And now?"

"I don’t know what I believe in," he repeated. "My faith seems to be missing or transformed somehow, almost foreign."

"Have you been to church since then?"

Peter just looked at him for a moment then shook his head. "No."

"Perhaps it is time to come back."

Peter shrugged his shoulders but said nothing.

"Why don’t you come back for vespers tonight? You don’t have to participate, just attend. I think it would do you good."

"I’ll think about it." Inside, though, he knew he wouldn’t attend.

"If you don’t want to come here, go to Holy Spirit where you are less likely to be recognized. Just go somewhere, Father."

Peter turned his head sharply upon being called ‘Father’. He looked at his friend and mentor. "I don’t know if I am worthy of
that title anymore."

"If you really think about it, who among us is?"

That caused a brief smile to appear on Peter’s face. "OK. OK. I’ll grant you that point."

"You’ve had enough of being alone. You’ve had time to recover from the shock. You are not healed by any means. But it is
time to get your life going again. The Church has always been important for you. Let her still be."

That did cause Peter to change his mind. "OK. I’ll attend. You’re right, Father."

"I know, Father."

"I just don’t know if I want to be curate anywhere or go do something else."

"Well, maybe you should do something different for a while. Let me talk with the Bishop and see what we can come up with."

Peter knew he had to put what he had been feeling into words. "Father, I really have doubts about my vocation."

"Father, it will help you heal. It doesn’t mean you have to remain a priest forever. Just don’t give it up just yet."

Peter had to acknowledge the logic of that. "All right. I am open to suggestions."

"Good. I’ll give you a call soon."

"Thanks."

They shook hands and went their separate ways.

Mary was waiting for him when Father Randall returned to the office.

"How’s Father Clifford?"

"In a bad way. But, he will recover. He just can’t see how yet."

"What happened to him?"

"He lost someone he was close to and he is having difficulty coping with that."

"He doesn’t deserve that, Father."

"No one does, Mary. No one does."
 

DAY TWENTY:

Father Randall was waiting in his study. Father Clifford walked in. "Ah, Peter, it is good to see you."

"Thank you, Father."

"Have you thought about our conversation?"

"Of course. That’s why I’m here."

"Sit down, please."

"I am not ready to make any change in my life at this point in time. But, at the same time, I still have some issues about
remaining a priest. I’m not sure what to do exactly. I have felt much joy in being a priest, but there also is much loneliness. I still
feel in limbo. Do you understand?"

"I do. We want to help you. You’re an excellent priest and we really don’t want to lose you. I’m not saying that to make you
feel guilty for thinking about leaving your vocation. I’m just saying it so you understand it from our side. No one said the
priesthood was an easy yoke, Peter. You knew that going in and you really now understand just how hard a yoke it is. You
also have been under more stress than most people would tolerate and yet, you survived. That’s a true sign of character, if you
ask me. You have the strength of will for the priesthood, there was never any doubt of that."

"Thank you."

"That was not an idle compliment, Father. That was the truth."

"But…I was ready to leave the priesthood to get married. Now that she is gone…Well, all I have left is this collar, but I just
don’t know if I can continue to stand up there at the altar."

"To be frank, I think you shortchanged your congregation in Ballykissangel, Peter. I think they would have been very
understanding of what you had gone through."

He paled as he answered, "Father, I couldn’t face them. I don’t know if I ever will be able to again."

"Does that mean any congregation as well?"

"I’m really not sure."

"What do you want to do, then, Father?"

"Go somewhere where I can make a contribution outside of working in a Church. I’ve been doing nothing productive for too
long."

"There is a staff position available with Bishop Smythe in London. Interested?"

"Maybe. What is the job description?"

"Coordinator of youth programs."

"That sounds interesting."

"I thought it might. I took the liberty of discussing this with him already. He has invited you down to London to discuss it on
Thursday. Here’s the number to confirm."

"Thank you."
 

SEVEN MONTHS:

Peter finished the summary report and printed it. Getting up from his desk, he grabbed his tea mug to wash out. He had been
there almost six months now and was enjoying this job, seeing how a diocese was run. The business side of it intrigued him. He
did not have any problems with the politics that were present even in the Church but he most enjoyed working with the youth
counselors and the lads themselves. The best part was coaching the soccer team.

But part of his duties was to act as a substitute when needed. In the beginning, he had managed to avoid that. Nothing lasted
forever, though, and, after four months had gone by, he finally was called on that by the Bishop.

"I think it is time for you to resume some priestly duties, Father."

Peter felt his heart stop. "Such as, your Grace?"

"We need a substitute at St. Benedict’s next week to take over for three weeks for the curate, Father Jackson. I think you
should do it."

"I’m not sure I’m ready."

"Why not?"

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

"Father Clifford, you are a Priest."

"For lack of anything better," he muttered.

Bishop Smythe ignored him. "We need a Priest. You are a Priest. You are available. Therefore, you need to go to St.
Benedict’s."

Peter just looked at the Bishop unsure of what to say. "Your Grace, how can I face those people?"

"Easily. For one thing, they don’t know you from Adam. For another thing, you face people everyday with the youth ministry.
You coach soccer and are there for the lads. You’ve been providing counseling. You’ve been doing almost everything you
always have done as a priest. What is the problem here?"

"I just don’t know if I could."

"I think you should. If you are still on the fence about remaining in the priesthood, this will be a good indicator. You can do this
and you can do it well. I think you know that."

He continued to give Peter the details and schedule. Peter left there with very mixed feelings. Initially, he was quite reluctant to
take this. The more he thought about it, though, the better and better it looked. Ah,well, he thought, no one knows me. Tabula
rasa. Why not?

It turned out that those three weeks were very healing for Peter. His initial reluctance quickly melted away when he walked into
the Church. It had a very warm feeling about it. He got the same feeling from Father Jackson.

He said Mass, heard confessions, administered last rites and even found himself calling bingo one evening in the church hall.
Afterwards, he walked into the church where the choir was rehearsing. The piece they were working on was Mozart’s Ave
Verum Corpus. Peter stood in the back of the Church just listening to the elegant simplicity of the music. He was amazed of the
effect that had on him. As he listened to it, he felt a peace coming over him. A peace that he thought had all but vanished from
his life. He felt uplifted and free, somehow. When he went to the sacristy to do some paperwork, the feeling stayed with him.

That night, he had a dream of a radiant presence visiting him, forgiving him, releasing him.
 

MONTH TEN:

Peter was still working in the diocese office but was also spending more and more time going to different churches as a
substitute. He was beginning to enjoy himself again. His faith had returned and, along with it, a sense of his vocation. He had
accepted that he would no longer have been a priest if she were still alive but it was all right to remain in the priesthood at least
for the present. Life was finally healing.

One Wednesday, he was called upon to help out with confessions at a downtown London Church. This was the week before
Christmas when everyone was catching up on lost time and getting around to going to confession. Though he had not yet been
at this particular church, he had met the priest before and they chatted for a while before preparing for confessions. They
walked back to the boxes to begin. Peter did not pay any attention to the waiting penitents.

Even though there were many people there, the time went by quickly. Finally, there were no more people. He went into the
sacristy and put away the robe. He went back out into the Church to pray for a while before finally leaving.

The night was chilly and damp. Peter started walking quickly towards the subway to go home.

"I can’t believe you have the gall to come here, Father."

That voice stopped Peter in his tracks. He took a moment to compose himself and then turned around to respond. "What do
you want, Leo?"

"I just wanted to see you again."

"Why?"

"To look at your face one more time."

"Leo, go home."

 "Go home to what? You stole her from me."

"Leo."

In spite of himself, Peter was beginning to lose his temper. Leo noticed that and kept pushing him, accusing him of anything and
everything he could think of ending with, "You killed her."

Peter had had enough. "Leo, will you leave me alone?" He started to walk away.

"You duplicitous bastard. I can’t believe you are still a priest. How dare you wear that collar and say mass and hear
confessions?"

Peter walked away. Leo ran ahead of him and took him by the collar. Peter offered no resistance. The two men stared at one
another for a time before Leo finally let go. "How is it you can just go on with your life as if nothing had happened, Father?" The
bitterness in his voice was almost palatable.

"You mean why am I still a priest?"

Leo shook his head sadly.  "Did she mean that little to you?"

"Leo, you know I loved her. For God’s sake, this has not been easy for me either."

"You seem just fine now," he sneered.

"Outwardly."

"Then you hide it mighty well."

"Leo, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her. But I have my life left to live and I have to live it."

"But, how can you? Every day I think of her, too. And every day there are only tears. I would do anything to bring her back."
The pleading in his voice caused Peter to soften his.

"Leo, that is not possible and you know that as well as I do. Be angry with me and blame me for her death. That’s fine if that is
what you need to do to live your life. Yes, if I had told her my feelings for her months before, maybe she would still be alive
today. Maybe not. Maybe she wouldn’t have been ready to have me in her life and nothing would have changed. Who knows
what would have happened? The past is the past. I did not kill her, Leo. My only regret is the time I wasted and the hurt I
caused you because of it. Do you understand?"

Leo did not hear the apology. "But I still love her and miss her terribly."

"Leo, you have to get on with your life. You can do Assumpta no good by wallowing in your grief. You do need to move on.
Let someone help you. Get some counseling if you need to but get your life going again. Stuff happens. You have to deal with it.
It is what she would tell you as well, if she could. For the sake of her memory, if nothing else, you need to get on with your life."

Leo just looked at him. He shook his head and walked away.

Peter went back to his room. He was too distraught to do anything for a time. I thought all that was over. Now this…He had
not talked with anyone in London about his time in Ireland. They didn’t need to know, he felt. Besides, he was now rather
embarrassed about his behavior in the village. No way would he go back there, ever. As for Leo, he finally decided not to deal
with the lingering guilt he felt. He had done what he could after all, didn’t he?