Part 3

"You've got it twisted!"

"Well, give me a chance to get a better hold of it!"

They didn't hear Peter as he walked up behind them.

"Just what are you two boys up to?!"

Donal jumped with fright and nearly lost his balance on his ladder.

"Father!  You shouldn't come up and scare a man like that.  I could have fallen and broken my neck!"

"Hold that banner up so I can read the thing.  Liam, straighten it out there."

They pulled the banner straight and taut, and Peter read:

FRIENDS OF FITZGERALD'S  TONIGHT -- COME TO THE REWIRING PARTY -- 5 pm to Closing FREE BEER! (limit two per customer) AND FREE CANDLELIGHT GOURMET DINNER COURTESY OF PEKING DUCKS R US CHINESE RESTAURANT !!LET'S HELP ASSUMPTA!!

Peter felt more than a bit angry.  "Where is he?"

"Quigley?  In the bar," Liam answered with a nod of his head.

Peter walked into the bar and found it crowded with neat sets of small dining tables and chairs set about the place.  The tables
were all covered in clean white clothes and decorated with Chinese fans and candles in holders.  Peter walked on through to the back and found Quigley in the kitchen with Shamie, the Irish/Chinese cook from his restaurant.

"Brian, what is going on?"

"Peter!  Good to see you.  Padraig is going to rewire the place for Assumpta.  I figured the more help he had, the quicker he
could get the job done.  Thought I'd create a little incentive for the helpers to show up."

"And a little business for yourself?"

"Now, Father.  Did you read the sign?  The dinner's free -- on me, tonight.  The restaurant's off to a slow start.  If this helps people to discover how good Shamie's cooking is, and they come back to the restaurant on their own next time, then that's good for business."

"For you.  What about Assumpta?  She doesn't know about this and I doubt she would like it.  Who's paying for the free beer?"

"Well, I could hardly ask her, now, could I?  It would spoil Padraig's surprise.  Besides, if the rewiring's costing her nothing,
don't you think she'd be willing to hand out a few free beers? You'll notice I'm limiting the number.  Any more and they'll have to pay for them.  That will bring money to Assumpta that she wouldn't get if the place stayed closed."

"You have all the angles figured, don't you, Brian?"

"Sure!  Now tell me it's not a good idea?"  But Peter couldn't.

"Are you sure Padraig wants the help?"

"Padraig's fine with the idea.  He'll find a way to put people to work, and if there's too many, they can stay here in the bar and
add to Assumpta's profits."

Peter just shook his head and smiled.  Brian Quigley truely never missed an opportunity, but this time Peter approved.  He couldn't see the harm in it, and if it benefitted Assumpta, then that was what counted the most.  He would make sure he was back tonight to keep an eye on things.

Peter went home to wash up, change into some clean clothes, and pick up his car.  During the drive into Cilldargan he was again alone with his thoughts, and once again he had to fight against nagging doubts. Assumpta had asked to see him, he reminded himself.  That was the most important thing -- but Leo was there.  Did he have a right to come between a man and his wife?  A mortal sin, in the eyes of the Church.

What would Assumpta have to say?  What more would Leo have to say?  What could he himself say to them both?  He had failed Assumpta so many times by backing down when they could have -- should have -- discussed what was happening between them.  Peter remembered once when Assumpta had needed to talk and he, not realizing her need and feeling a little
uncomfortable, had made his excuses and left her.  Had he sensed she was going to say something he wasn't ready to hear -- or couldn't handle? She had been angry with him afterwards.  Then he remembered the cold night they had sat in his car guarding the Kilnashee Wood for Brendan. Assumpta had a way of constantly disconcerting him.

"We don't really have a lot to say to each other do we?" she had honestly remarked.

Trying as always to keep it simple between them, to feign ignorance of her direct meanings, he had replied, "Don't we?"

"No." An owl was heard in the night. "The owl's quite chatty though." Then she laughed.

"What?"

"I was just thinking back to when I was 16.  There was this Priest in the parish who'd sneak up on parked cars and shine a torch through the window."

"Looking for..?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"Oh yeah."  He felt foolish.

She gave him a long intense look that made him uncomfortable.  "What?"

"Just thinking."

"What?" he insisted.

"What would you do if Father Mac shone a light through our window?"

"Tell him to mind his own business," he replied with certain conviction.

She gave him another look.  "You surprise me."

"Do I?"

"Constantly."

It was the perfect opening.  It was his chance to be as frank with her as she was with him.  They could have talked, expressed their feelings, come to some understanding.  But he didn't know how to begin and he was scared, unsure of himself, so he let the moment pass -- as usual. Frustrated, he saw her shiver and he asked, "Are you cold?" and took ahold of her hand.

"Yeah - no," she replied in surprise and confusion.

"You feel cold."
 
"No," she insisted, but he kept hold of her hand and she let him. He held her hand in both of his to warm it. He wanted to
press a warm kiss to her cold fingers but he settled for bowing his head and resting his forehead against their joined hands. He was aware all the time that she continued to stare at him, and for her part, Assumpta was too stunned to think clearly. She just waited -- and wondered what was going on inside his head.

So many confused and frustrated feelings were whirling around inside him. What should he say -- what dare he say?  He was trying to work up the nerve to say something -- to express some of what he was feeling, what was tearing him apart inside -- when Brendan and the others returned and the moment was lost.

With one last look, they both got out of the car. When Brendan teased Peter that maybe he hadn't been keeping such a good eye on the woods, he protested too strongly -- another attempt to deny what was going on inside of him. Assumpta said she was leaving and gathered up her things. Desperate to salvage the moment, Peter hurried to join her by her van. In his eyes was all the turmoil he was feeling inside. He strained to begin but the words wouldn't come and he got off to a bad start.

"Assumpta ..."

"Goodnight," she told him, but he moved closer -- so close that their bodies touched and their faces were only inches apart. She brushed the wind-blown hair from her face and waited, giving him another chance.

"I'm a Priest," he started, trying to convey so much meaning in those few words.  But Assumpta wouldn't make it easy for him.

"That's fine. Be a Priest," and she climbed into her van and drove away, leaving Peter aching with frustration and longing.

Finally in the last couple of days Peter had faced his reality -- with Assumpta's help. Last night he had finally expressed his
love. But Assumpta had not -- not in words. But could he be in doubt of them? He thought of the day when he made his decision to take Father Mac's advice and go on retreat to reaffirm his vocation. When he told Assumpta she said, "So, that's it, is it?"

And he replied, "Yes.  That is... it." The look that passed between them said all that he could not say: "It is over.  The feelings
that have been building between us must end. We can never be anything to one another but friends." But when he saw the look on her face and the struggle she was having with her emotions and the tears that threatened to burst forth, it tore at him and he struggled to maintain his own composure and determination.  Surely that had been evidence of her feelings.

The retreat had done for him what he had hoped when he left. He returned renewed and assured that he could control his feelings. He was determined to put some emotional distance between Assumpta and himself when she returned. He would throw himself into his parish work and be a less-frequent visitor to Fitzgerald's. Everything would be fine; he was strong once more.

But as soon as Niamh told him that Assumpta had run off to London and married Leo McGarvey, all his resolve had crashed around his feet. He had never actually put it into words, but the thought had been there: that he could remain celibate as long as Assumpta did like-wise. How selfish could he have been?! But at the same time he felt angry and betrayed. How could she do that to him? Was it possible that she didn't feel the same as he -- that she loved Leo? He gave Assumpta such a hard time when she tried to explain things to him -- and clearly put his anger and torment on display at the same time! The sleepless,
dream-filled nights returned with a vengeance.

He tried to stay away from Fitzgerald's (it was too painful to be there) and give Assumpta and Leo their space. He remembered the night of the Battle of the Bars. He was having a bad time of it, just being there. Then the words of Aisling's song, and the look that passed between him and Assumpta while she sang it, had shaken him to the core. He was shaken again when he stood in the dark outside the Garda Station and watched Leo arrive home late, knowing he was heading up to Assumpta's bed. That had cut Peter where it hurt the most.

Still, he thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding his feelings. But he was fooling himself. Leo stunned him badly when he made it very clear he knew how it stood between Peter and Assumpta. That's when he decided the dogs in the street must know! Going on retreat had resolved nothing. It had only made things many times worse. Bad mistakes had been made; misunderstanding had existed on both sides. But no more.

Peter remembered what Assumpta had once said: "When two people are meant to be together, there's no force on earth that will keep them apart. If it's meant to happen, it will happen." He was convinced now that they were meant to happen. God had brought him to Ballykissangel, had brought them together, and no force on earth -- no retreat, no Father Mac, no electrical fuse box -- nothing could keep them apart.

Peter pulled the car into the hospital carpark full of determination to face Leo.  But still, he approached Assumpta's room with
caution and waited just outside to listen for the sound of voices.  He heard nothing, and he looked around the door frame.

Assumpta appeared to be sleeping. She looked much as he had left her that morning -- then not at all the same. Instead of a
straight, still form with her arms to her sides, she lay with her head turned to one side and her bandaged hand on the pillow beside her face. Gone were the oxygen mask, the IV, and the heart monitor. She looked beautiful and peaceful. Peter was overcome by love for her. He moved quickly across the room and took her other hand in his. Assumpta immediately opened her eyes and turned to look at him with a smile.

"Peter.. at last." He sank into the chair beside her bed. Assumpta freed her hand from his and cradled his face in both her
hands. She saw the bruised lip and nose and smiled with under-standing. She leaned toward him while gently pulling him closer and said: "Peter -- I love you."
 
To finally hear the words that he had longed to hear -- had dreamed of hearing -- Peter was overcome with emotion.  He began to sob tears of relief and joy.  Startled by his reaction, Assumpta pulled him into her arms and let him cry against her shoulder as she had before, in Niamh's kitchen.  "Peter, it's okay.  Oh, Peter..."

As happened before, Peter was engulfed by a very sensual awareness of Assumpta.  As he abandoned his tears and gave into his feelings, he whispered her name and began to nuzzle, then to kiss her neck.  But this time there were no barriers between them.  This time she did not pull away but gave herself up to the enjoyment of his kisses and the racing emotions they invoked throughout her body.

Peter's mouth found Assumpta's, and their first kiss was all they had both dreamed of:  deep, full of passion, full of months of
suppressed emotions, longing, and desire.  As the kiss grew more urgent, Peter gathered Assumpta into his arms and held her so tight that she cried out in pain.  He immediately released her.

"I.. I'm sorry!  I hurt you!" he groaned, but Assumpta laughed and reassured him.

"It's okay, Peter, really!  I'm a little sore from the work-over Michael gave me, but I'll be fine in a couple of days.  Then you
can hold me all you want.  And I would definately like to be kissed like that again!  You certainly know your way around a kiss -- for a priest!  You sure you didn't learn a thing or two from that girl Jennie?"

"Never!  I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you, Assumpta Fitzgerald."  He leaned in and briefly kissed her again. Then his smile changed to a questioning frown.  "Assumpta, where's Leo?" he asked.

"Gone -- back to London."

"What...?"

"We talked.  I told him we should never have married.  That I'd married him for all the wrong reasons.  I told him I was sorry -- I hadn't meant to hurt him.  I asked him for my freedom, Peter -- and he told me he would let me go."  Leo hadn't protested, hadn't argued. He'd given up so easily that Assumpta had nearly cried.  She didn't love him as she loved Peter, but she did care about him and always would.  It hurt -- to hurt him.  Assumpta sighed.  "So... what happens next, Father Clifford?"

Peter made a face at her then smiled.  "Hmm...  First, we get you out of this hospital and back home again.  Then, after next
Saturday, I will no longer be Father Clifford."

"Saturday?"

"Kieran's christening."
 
"Oh."  Assumpta dropped her eyes and Peter grasped the moment.

"Did Niamh talk to you about Saturday, Assumpta?"

"Ah... yes."

"And?  You can do it, Assumpta.  It means a lot to Niamh, and you love Kieran."

"Of course I do, but to be his godmother, Peter... the Church..."

"Assumpta.  If you're going to marry me..."  He stopped and looked a bit stunned by his own words.  "Assumpta Fitzgerald, will you marry me?"

She smiled.  "As soon as I'm free to do so -- yes, Peter Clifford, I will marry you."  Peter returned her smile with a huge one of
his own and leaned in again to give her another warm, lingering kiss.

"I could do this all day!" he declared.

"Me too!" she agreed and laughed.

Then Peter gave her a serious look.  "We have to marry in the Church, Assumpta.  No registry office for us."

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath.  "I'll marry you in the Church, Peter -- on one condition:  Father Mac doesn't do
it."

Peter shook his head.  "I don't think he would agree to it, but it doesn't matter because I would never ask.  We'll find someone else to do it."  And in a slightly teasing tone he added, "It won't be so bad, Assumpta.  You can get through it."

She brightened and wrapped her arms around his chest, which felt warm and strong and comfortable.  "I believe I can get through anything, now," she said, "as long as I have you."  And just so there could be no further doubt, she added: "I do love you, Peter Clifford!"

With a heart so full that he couldn't reply, Peter again demonstrated just how much he loved Assumpta Fitzgerald!
 

"What plan?!"

"My plan to get this place rewired for Assumpta as soon as possible and have a bit of fun in the process.  It brings in the helpers and rewards them with a good dinner.  What's the harm in that?  Padraig approves and so does Father Clifford."

Niamh gave her father one of her critical, distrusting looks, which gradually turned to a smile.  "Okay Dad, but I'm in charge
of the bar."

"Fine."

The patrons began arriving almost immediately and Niamh counted heads as they came in.  When the number matched the number of places they had for dinner, she called them the "A" crew and asked the others to come back at 7.  The "A" crew was told they would work first and eat later.  Padraig found among them a couple of men who had done some rewiring and put them in charge of teams.  The three teams worked to pull all of the old wiring.  At six they sat down to a candlelight dinner.
Peter arrived shortly after six and made his way through the crowded room to Niamh at the bar (where she was keeping a close eye on the distribution of free drinks).

"Father Clifford!  How's Assumpta?"

"She's doing fine, Niamh.  The doctor thinks she'll be able to come home tomorrow."

Padraig overheard.  "Tomorrow?  What time tomorrow?  You've got to make it afternoon.  There's lots of work to be done here."

"I'll do my best, Padraig.  How's the work going so far?"

"Good.  I'm hopeful.  It's nice to see everyone coming together for a good cause.  Community spirit isn't dead in Ireland."

"I'm glad of that, Padraig.  I never really doubted it."

The "A" crew was moved out about 6:45 and told to come back at 9 for a wrap party.  The "B" crew sat down to dinner just past 7 and went to work about 8.  By the time the "A" crew returned at 9 for the party, the work was definitely progressing well, and Peter was delighted. In addition, when closing time finally came, Fitzgerald's had made a very good profit on the evening.  While Liam and Donal cleared away the dirty dishes and returned the extra tables and chairs to Brian's restaurant,
Peter helped Niamh with the washing up in the kitchen.

"Well, Father, Assumpta should be very pleased.  I think we made enough to give Dad something for all of the food, and still leave Assumpta more than she makes many a night.  What do you think?"

"I think -- your father had an idea I could actually support for once.  I think Assumpta will be pleased, too.  Thank you, Niamh, for looking out for her best interests."

"And ah... what about mine?"

"What?"

"Did you talk to Assumpta about Saturday?"

Peter nodded.  "I did.  She'll do it.  You might say she's taking a renewed interest in the Church!"

"Thank you, Father.  I'll miss you being the curate, when that time comes."

"Thank you, Niamh.  I'll... miss it too."

Niamh gave him a long look with concern.  "Are you sure... you won't come to regret your decision?"

Peter gave Niamh a reassuring smile in return. "I love Assumpta, Niamh." Though she knew it to be true, it was a bit odd to hear him say it, and it was a bit odd for Peter too, to be voicing it for the first time to someone other than Assumpta. He blushed and cleared his throat. "It's taken me three years to admit it to myself, but I think I fell in love with her from the first day I met her. Assumpta is incredible."

"That she is," Niamh agreed.

"I couldn't continue being a priest now, not after all that's happened. Our feelings are finally out in the open and its time for
me to move on. It will be an adjustment, I know -- a total redirection for me, but it's worth it to have Assumpta in my life, Niamh."

"Oh, Peter."  She was overcome with emotion to have Peter share his feelings with her, and so happy for Assumpta.  She walked over to him and gave him a big hug.

"I've worried about Assumpta for such a long time. I wanted her to have someone in her life, someone to love, like I have
Ambrose. She's so independent," Peter nodded his agreement, "but I felt she was lonely. You remember how I tried to get her together with Enda..." Peter nodded again and Niamh saw that it didn't please him to remember. "Well, bad choice, I know, but my intentions were good. I could hardly have pushed your cause, now could I?"

Peter smiled and gave Niamh back a hug.  "Assumpta has been very lucky to have you as a friend, Niamh.  Thank you for watching out for her."

"That's your job now, Peter."

"And thankful I am that God has seen fit to give me that chance. Things could have gone far differently last night, and I thank God for preserving her life. Now I just want to make her happy."

Niamh gave Peter a reassuring wink. "Oh, I believe you will.  I have no doubt of that. I've never seen Assumpta happier. You
either, for that matter."

"That's because I've never been happier."

Just then they heard Padraig and the last of his crew discussing the progress of their work as they came up from the cellar.
They were calling it a night. Niamh folded their dish towels and laid them aside. "Well, that's that, then.  Its time I got home to my husband and baby."

Padraig came into the kitchen.  "What time do you think you'll have Assumpta home tomorrow, Father?"

"She's checking out of hospital at eleven and I'll be there, but I'll find a way to delay her homecoming for a little while."  A
smile passed between him and Niamh.  "How would two suit you?"

Padraig shrugged.  "It'll have to do.  So... we'll be done."

"And I'll have the bar decorated for her homecoming," Niamh added.

"Then two it is." Peter gave them both another smile and they walked out of the pub together.

Amongst Friends Part 4 - Conclusion

"I do not need a wheelchair!" Assumpta snapped at the nurse.

"What's going on here?  What's the matter?" Peter asked before the nurse could reply.

Assumpta was greatly relieved to see him, but she didn't stand to greet him.  "Peter!  You're here -- finally!"  She reached out a
hand to him and he went over and took it in his.

"I'm sorry.  I had some business to take care of this morning." He didn't tell her that he had dropped by the pub to find Padraig and a small crew already busy at work.

"What kind of business?"

"Parish business.  I'm still a priest, Assumpta."  She gave him a 'look' and turned away to glare at the nurse, who looked to Peter.

"It is hospital policy, Father."

"What is?"

"That Mrs. McGarvey leave this hospital in a wheelchair."

With a look on her face that would make the Devil cower, Assumpta hissed at the nurse, "First of all, I have asked you to call me Miss Fitzgerald, and second of all, I will walk out of this hospital on my own two feet! Peter?"

Several years of priest's training and practice were not wasted on Peter. His natural gift for compromise and negotiation kicked in.

"Nurse, would I be permitted to push the wheelchair if Miss Fitzgerald consented to sit in it?"  Assumpta started to protest but
Peter pressed a finger to her lips and she was immediately silenced by his touch, which also brought a smile to her lips.

"Well, I suppose that would be alright."

"Thank you."  Peter walked around the chair, grabbed the handles and wheeled it closer to Assumpta.  "There you go, Miss
Fitzgerald, your chariot awaits you."

Assumpta started to stand but immediately sat down again. "My... one leg still feels a bit wobbly.  If you'd help me, Peter..."  He was immediately by her side and put his arms around her.  With his help she made it into the chair and he grabbed hold of the handles again.  He started to push her toward the door when the doctor appeared.

"Ah, Father Clifford."

Peter nodded.  "Doctor.  Is her paper work all complete? Can she go home?"

"Indeed it is and she can. But you have to mind my advice now, young lady," he told Assumpta. "You promised me that if I let
you go home today you would stay off of your feet for a couple of days. Take it gradually until your muscles get their full  strength back. Till then you'll be a bit unsteady and it would not do for you to take a fall.  Father...?"

"I'll see to it, Doctor.  She'll have constant care -- round the clock -- to be sure she does what you tell her."

"I'm concerned she'll be tempted to get behind that bar of hers."

"Don't worry about it, Doctor. I promise you she'll be well looked after. She has a lot of friends who care about her." He
bent his head to smile down at her and she looked up at him with a smile of her own, and he saw that his words had both touched her and embarrassed her. Assumpta had never been one to let people 'do' for her.

Peter wheeled Assumpta down the hallway after bidding the doctor thank you and goodbye. The nurse accompanied them all the way to Peter's car then walked away with the wheelchair once Assumpta was safely in the front passenger seat. When  Peter climbed in beside her, she let out a long sigh.

"I have never been so glad to be rid of a place.  That nurse was a dictator."

"She's just doing her job, Assumpta."

"Well, she can do it on someone else, now.  Oh Peter, I am glad to see you."  He leaned over and gave her a warm, lingering kiss.

"And I you.  You have no idea how much!  Assumpta, do you mind if we don't head straight back to Ballykissangel?  I'd like to
have you to myself for a bit.  There'll no doubt be a crowd at the bar when you get home."

"Do you think so?  Then, I would LOVE to have some time to ourselves, Peter.  Time away from others, well-meaning or not.  Time for just you and me."

"Hungry?"

"A bit."

"Let's get a bite to eat first, then we'll go park by the lake.  We can just sit and talk for a while -- or something..."

"Hmm.  I like the sound of that."

They had lunch in one of the nicer restaurants in Cilldargan.  When Assumpta saw where Peter was heading, she protested that it was too expensive, but he insisted that it was a special occasion.

"Today is a special day," he told her. "You are alive and well, and this is the first day of the rest of our lives -- together. Two
good reasons to celebrate." So they had their special lunch in a special restaurant, tucked into a quiet cozy corner, holding hands and sipping wine. And after lunch Peter drove them to the shore of the lake. Gray clouds were gathering over the mountain peaks to the west and a breeze was picking up and rippling the dark surface of the lake. He drove along a rough dirt
path that follows the shore until they were around and behind a bit of a rise that shielded them from view of the main road and
allowed them some privacy. Peter stopped the car and turned to Assumpta.

"Hmm.  I remember the last time we sat in a car alone together.  I feel completely different."

"How so?"

"I was nervous, tongue tied, emotionally torn.  I wanted to say so much to you, yet didn't dare. You have no idea what a relief it
is to have that indecision behind me!"

"I believe I do.  Its a relief for me too, you know.  But Peter..."

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure?"

"Sure about what?  Leaving the priesthood? --Yes.  Sure about my feelings? --Yes, I'm sure I love you and want to spend the
rest of my life with you.  Sure about you? --You tell me."

Assumpta looked at Peter and he looked back for one l-o-n-g moment.  He was just beginning to become uncomfortable, to feel a stab of uncertainty, when she finally and quietly replied.

"Yes, Peter.  I'm sure I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, too. But I admit I'm a little concerned for the
future."

Peter was surprised.  "Why?  How?"

"The other day you asked me what you were going to do for a job, after you leave the priesthood.  You asked whether you could help at the bar. I've thought about that, and I don't believe that will work."

"Assumpta..."

"No, let me say what's on my mind.  After you left the hospital yesterday I thought about it a lot.  Helping me run the bar will
never do for you."

"Assumpta..."

"Peter, let me finish!  You have been a priest all of your adult life. And you are a good one.  You relate to people and they to
you.  You aren't condescending and distant like Father Mac.  You would be wasted behind the bar, doling out advice to the regulars. You..."

"Assumpta, I agree with you."

"You... what?"

"That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about, why I  wanted to sit and talk for awhile.  I've thought about it too."

"And... you agree with me."  Assumpta hadn't expected him to agree, and it suddenly worried her to hear it.  But Peter smiled
reassuringly and took her hands in his.

"I have to be doing something I feel is worthwhile, Assumpta -- to feel like I'm contributing to the community -- helping people -- like I did with that girl from Cilldargan and her baby.  A family was kept together, and that was important.  That's the part of being a priest that I find worthwhile -- that I would miss.  The rest of it -- officiating, hearing confessions, dealing with church rules and regulations, keeping my superiors happy -- I really won't miss!"  Peter sighed and shook his head.  "Actually, part of the officiating I will miss.  I like marrying couples and baptizing babies, seeing the joy in people's faces.  The rest I definitely will not miss.  But, I want to continue helping people -- and serving God, Assumpta.  Those are the reasons I became a priest and
they will always be important to me."

"I know they will, Peter.  You wouldn't be you -- the Peter I love -- if you stopped caring and wanting to help."

"But there are other ways to help, and to serve God, besides being a priest.  I thought... maybe I could get into social work.
Catholic Services maybe.  And I could be a Deacon in the Church. You wouldn't mind that, would you, Assumpta?  I mean, for a marriage to work... for our marriage to work, we have to accept each other as we are and accept that there will always differences.  That's true of any couple.  Can you accept that -- accept me under those conditions, Assumpta?"
 
Peter waited for her to reply.  For another long moment she looked at him with a look on her face that was part concern and part -- sympathy?  He fought down the rising panic and willed himself to remain silent.  At last she removed her hands from his and placed them on his face.  She leaned forward and kissed him, sweetly, tenderly.  "I love you for who you are, Peter," she whispered.  "I wouldn't want you any other way."

She kissed him again, deeply and passionately, and Peter wrapped his arms around her and she wrapped hers around his neck.  For several moments they enjoyed the pleasure of each other's lips.  Then Peter broke away to bestow kisses on Assumpta's face, her eyes, her ears, her soft curved neck, on the soft spot behind her ear-lobe, and the hollow above her
collar bone. Then he kissed as much of her collar bone that was not covered by the scooped neck of the knit top she was
wearing.

Assumpta made soft sounds of pleasure and whispered his name. He felt disconnected -- apart from reality -- in a world made up of only the pleasures of Assumpta. Any will-power he might have had to control his rising passions fled from him and left him with only one desire. One hand began to roam her body then quickly moved to tug her shirt free of the restraint of the waistband of her jeans.

The distant rumble of thunder over the mountains reached Assumpta's ears and snapped her back to reality. She was immediately filled with concern for what was happening to them here and now. Peter's was a small car, and she had no desire for their first sexual encounter to take place in the cramped confines of his car. It was soon going to come down raining
and she wanted to be tucked into the cozy comfort of her own bed -- with her arms and legs wrapped around Peter's warm body! Assumpta broke free from his embrace and pushed him away. Peter was startled back to reality; a dazed look was on his face.

"Assumpta...!"

"Not here, Peter.  Not this way."

Peter shook the cob webs from his brain and took a deep calming breath.  "Of course.  You're right.  I'm still a priest."

Assumpta looked at him sharply.  That wasn't what she had considered and she wasn't happy that the thought had occurred to him.  As big drops of rain began to hit the car windows and rivulets to run down, they washed away the sweet thoughts from her mind and left her feeling petulant.

Peter glanced at his watch: it was ten minutes to two. With another deep breath, he started up the car and drove back along the dirt path.  Glancing in both directions along the empty road, he pulled the car on to it and headed again in the direction of Ballykay.

Back at Fitzgerald's, Niamh glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly two o'clock.  For the past half-hour a small crowd had begun to gather in the bar.  Padraig and his crew had been there all morning.  The other regulars -- Brendan, Siobhan, Michael, Liam and Donal -- were there, along with Ambrose, Eamonn, and Brian, and even Kathleen and Father Mac had just arrived.  And many who had been there to work and have dinner the night before were back.  Just about anyone
who knew Assumpta was there.  The place was crowded, drinks were flowing, and there was excitement in the air.  Cars had been parked down the street across from the church so as to not be too obvious.

Finishing touches still needed to be done to the electrical work in the cellar, but the work was done in the bar and there were
even new light fixtures.  A banner that read "Welcome Home Assumpta!!" hung high on the wall behind the bar.  Everything looked nice and Niamh hoped Assumpta would be pleased.  You could never be completely assured of her reaction to anything.

Niamh leaned over the open trap door to the cellar. "Padraig!  They'll be here any minute.  Come on up."  She heard him call back that they would be right up.

Donal was by the window where he could see the road over the bridge. Suddenly he called out above the noise of the crowd.  "Here they come! Here they come!" As Padraig and his crew scrambled up out of the cellar, Niamh ushered the crowd to the far end of the bar away from the sitting room, where she thought it most likely that Assumpta and Peter would enter. With lots of shushing, the noise dropped to whispers as the car pulled up outside of the bar.

Assumpta looked out the car window at the front of her establishment and home.  Everything looked quiet and normal.  She vainly hoped there wouldn't be a great fuss made.  She suddenly felt tired and wanted Peter to hold her in his arms again.  Peter pulled up in front of the pub, got out of the car, and came around to her door and opened it.  He reached in and took her extended hand.  As Assumpta stood to her feet, she was overcome by a sudden dizziness and began to sink back down.  But Peter moved quickly, slipped one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and picked her up in his arms.

Assumpta was annoyed by her weakness.  "Oh Peter.  Put me down.  I'll be all right in a minute."

"I will not."  He kicked the car door shut with his foot and carried her over to the hotel entrance to Fitzgerald's.  Shifting her
weight, he struggled to get the key into the lock and Assumpta reached out to turn the handle.  Peter shoved the door open with his foot and ducked as he carried Assumpta through the doorway.

Suddenly, from the far end of the bar, a great shout erupted.  "Welcome home, Assumpta!"  Startled, Peter and Assumpta looked in surprise and he laughed as the crowd surged forward toward them.  "Put me down!" Assumpta gruffly whispered.  Peter obeyed, but held her securely in his arms as Niamh reached them and planted a kiss on Assumpta's cheek.  One after
another, her friends came forward and gave her hugs and kisses and told her how glad they were to see her and how well she
looked.  Father Mac did not kiss or hug her but took her hand into his.

"Assumpta, welcome home.  You look much better than the last time I saw you.  How are you feeling?"

"Very tired, but glad to be home."

Padraig, who had been holding back, now stepped forward and kissed her cheek.  "Welcome home, Assumpta.  I have a little surprise for you."

He proceeded to excitedly tell her all that had been accomplished in the last two days as Peter guided her through the bar to admire the new light fixtures and wall switches. Assumpta was surprised and pleased, but the excitement was exhausting her more by the minute. Finally Peter guided to her to the stuffed chairs by the fireplace, and she gratefully sank down into one of them.

"Padraig, I can't thank you enough for all of this.  How can I ever repay you?"

"You don't need to Assumpta.  I should've done this long ago.  And you don't owe me anything.  The cost has all been covered -- by your friends."  He emphasized the last with a sweep of his arm that took in everyone in the bar, who responded with a chorus of "You're welcome" and by lifting their glasses to her.

"Thank you.  Thank you, everyone."  Padraig saw the tears that welled up in her eyes and so did Peter, who stood and raised a hand to the crowd.

"This has been a wonderful home-coming.  Everyone is welcome to come back later, but for now Assumpta has got to get some rest. Doctor's orders." Peter pulled Assumpta to her feet, and with Niamh on one side of her and Peter on the other, they made their way upstairs to her room.  The noisy chatter faded as the crowd filed out of the bar, and when Assumpta reached her bedroom, a peaceful quiet filled the room.  She looked at the flowered comforter on the bed and nearly collapsed as she
sank down on the side.

"Assumpta, you poor thing," Niamh said in sympathy. "Would you like some nice soothing herbal tea?  There's some downstairs that says its for helping you sleep."

"Niamh, I would love some."

"I'll go make some.  Peter?..."  She indicated that she was leaving Assumpta in his hands.

"Thanks, Niamh.  I'll get her into bed."

When Niamh left, Peter knelt at Assumpta's feet and slipped off her shoes.  Quickly, without allowing himself to think about
what he was doing, he unfastened her jeans and supported her body as she raised herself up and pulled them down over her bottom. Then he pulled them off her legs and threw them over the back of a chair.

"What do you sleep in?"

She nodded toward the bed pillows.  "Night shirt."

Peter reached under the pillows and pulled out a soft, over-sized, pale yellow tee-shirt.  When Assumpta started to pull her knit
shirt off over her head, Peter averted his eyes and mentally cursed himself for a coward.  When he looked back, she had the night shirt on and her knit shirt and bra lay on the bed beside her.  He added those to the chair then pulled back the bed covers. Assumpta slipped her tired body between the cool sheets and sighed with relief.   Just then, Niamh returned with the tea.

"Here you go, Love.  Nice and warm, but not too hot, I hope."

Assumpta sat up and Peter arranged the pillows behind her back.  She took the cup of tea and sipped it.  It felt so good and soothing going down.

"Hmm.  Wonderful!  I feeling positively spoiled."

"You deserve to be," Niamh assured her.  "Well, I think I'm going to go home now.  Kieran should be about finished with his nap. So, I'll leave you in Peter's capable hands."

"Thank you, Niamh."  Assumpta squeezed her hand.

"See you two later," she said, and left the room.

Peter took the cup of tea from Assumpta and set it on the bedside table. "Time to get some sleep."  She nestled back down into the covers and Peter tucked the comforter snugly around her neck.  He bent over her and kissed her lips, but when he started to pull away, Assumpta grabbed his hand.

"Peter, stay."

"Assumpta, you need to rest."

"I will, but I don't want you to leave yet.  Stay with me till I'm asleep.  Please."  She pulled on his arm and he sat down beside her.  She rolled over in bed, pulling his arm around her.  Peter laid down beside her on top of the covers, tucked his arms tightly around her, and rested his cheek against her soft hair.  Neither of them said another word.  He silently listened as her breathing relaxed and become the soft rhythm of sleep.

Peter was not tired. Lying beside Assumpta, feeling the warmth of her body through the covers, pressed against his own, he
couldn't have slept if he wanted to.  Thoughts filled his mind.  When had he ever felt as he did now?  When had he ever desired a woman as he did now?  Never.  His desire for Assumpta pained him and he had to fight to resist kissing her hair, touching her body, waking the desire within her.

He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again and looked around the room.  Gradually other thoughts intruded -- thoughts of Leo.  Leo had lived in this room, had slept in this bed, made love to Assumpta in this bed. A stab of pain shot through Peter at the thought.  But it didn't matter, he told himself.  Nothing mattered but now and the future.  The past was past forever, and Leo was going to free Assumpta from that sham of a marriage.

A question came unbidden into Peter's mind.  So, when? it asked.  When what?  When are you going to allow yourself the pleasures of love at last?  When are you going to allow yourself to share this bed with Assumpta, to enjoy the pleasures of her body, to give yourself to her entirely?  When, Peter?

Peter groaned within himself.  Next week he would no longer be a priest, but she would still be a married woman.  He knew she didn't care, but he did.  In spite of how much he wanted her, he cared.  How could he go from being a priest who professed to believe in the sanctity of the holy bonds of matrimony to one who openly flaunted those beliefs?  Gulping back a
sob that came to his throat, Peter carefully slipped his arm out from under Assumpta and got off the bed.  He looked down at her peacefully sleeping form for a long moment.  Then, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had begun to slip down his cheek, he left her.

When Niamh returned to the bar to open up for the evening customers, she first went upstairs to check on Assumpta and found her bedroom door shut.  She felt uncertain whether or not to open it.  She listened first at the door and heard no sound.  Carefully, softly, she opened the door and saw Assumpta still sleeping peacefully.  Peter was gone.  She quietly shut the door again and went back downstairs to put a 'Closed' sign on the pub door.

Peter was in the sacristy of the church, preparing for the 6 o'clock mass, when Father MacAnally walked in.

"Father Clifford."  Peter looked up but didn't reply.  "I didn't expect you to present the mass this evening so I came over to do
it.  I'm glad to see that won't be necessary."

"I'm still a priest.  As you requested, I will continue to act like one, until Saturday."

"What about Sunday?"

"No.  You'll have to get that one."

"Very well.  And will you be here, Sunday -- to say goodbye?"

Peter was thoughtful.  "I don't know.  I haven't thought about it."

"I think you owe it to your flock.  They need to know."

"I would think they all know by now."

"But they need to hear it from you.  Plan on being here Sunday, Father Clifford."  He turned and walked out.

The pub was quiet and cold.  Assumpta got the Aga going and it soon took the chill from the room.  She made herself some coffee and buttered toast, and sat down to eat her simple breakfast.  As she nibbled the toast and sipped the steaming hot coffee, she thought about yesterday.  Yesterday she and Peter had spent the whole afternoon together, walking and talking, making plans.  She had not been surprised by his expressed wish to not sleep together until after her divorce was final.  We'll see, she thought now, and smiled.  Yesterday she had been amused by the tone of his voice and the obvious difficulty he was having convincing himself that was what he really wanted.  Her heart had warmed to him.  Thinking of it now, she was filled with such love for him.

Assumpta was amazed at the transformation that was occurring in her.  She had never felt so happy, so satisfied.  Even in London when she and Leo were first married, before they returned to Ballykissangel, she had not felt this way; not close.  Nothing seemed to upset her since leaving the hospital.  Even Father Mac didn't get to her when he came into the pub last night and said that he would be sad to see Father Clifford go, as though Peter was one of Father Mac's favorite curates.  Assumpta chuckled and was suddenly filled with an overwhelming desire to see Peter.  She finished off her breakfast and left the pub.

Early Saturday mornings the streets of Ballykissangel are usually deserted.  Assumpta didn't see another soul as she quickly
walked up the street to Peter's house.  She didn't knock before trying the door handle and finding it unlocked.  She quietly slipped into the house and saw Peter in the kitchen.  He was standing at the stove with his back to her. Assumpta tip-toed across the room and slipped her arms around his chest to hug him.  Peter didn't even start.  He turned around in her arms and wrapped his own around her.  Their kiss was long and deep. Afterwards he rested his chin against her hair and Assumpta
sighed with satisfaction.

"This day is going to be beautiful," she said.

"Is it?"

 "Yes.  Its going to be the best day."  She looked up into his eyes.  "I love you, Peter Clifford."

Peter picked her up and swung a laughing Assumpta around the room, then sat down in a chair with her on his lap.  For several long moments they kissed until Peter forced himself to break away.  He was breathing hard and his heart was pounding in his chest.

"Assumpta Fitzgerald, you are making this so hard for me."

She started to say  "Its hard for me, too", but stopped when she saw the pained look of longing on his face.  "I know," she replied softly.  "I'm sorry.  I'll go and get ready for the baptism, " even though it was still nearly three hours away.  With another quick kiss, she was gone.

Peter remained sitting in the chair, staring at a shaft of bright morning sunlight streaming in through the window.  Feathery specks of dust drifted in the light and he stared so long and hard that his eyes started to tear up.

He spoke aloud toward the light, "God, I love her so much.  Thank you for bringing us together.  Thank you for preserving her life.  Thank you so much for what you have blessed me with in my life.  I know you don't begrudge me my choice to leave the priesthood.  Truly loving someone and making them happy is also a divine calling.  And I promise you I will make her happy."  Overcome with emotion, Peter buried his head in his hands and cried.

The baptism of little Kieran Egan went beautifully.  Far from seeming hesitant, Assumpta beamed with pride when she accepted her responsibilities as godmother to the boy.  Brendan Kearney accepted the responsibility of being godfather.  All of the remaining assembled congregation pledged before God to support the parents in their efforts to raise the boy faithfully in the Church, and Kieran was baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Following the ceremony, Peter stood in his raiment by the door of the church as the congregation filed out and made their way
down the street to Fitzgerald's where the christening party was to be held.  Father MacAnally was the last to come out, and he stood by Peter for a moment as they watched Assumpta walk away carrying Kieran, with one of his parents on each side of her.

"Well, Father Clifford.  This is both a joyful day and a sad day."

"How's that?" Peter asked, though he knew the answer.

"It is a sad day in that it is your last as an acting priest, of course."

"I would think you would be glad to see me go.  We have never seen eye to eye."

"I am never glad to see a priest abandon his vocation, Father Clifford.  And you are no exception.  We may not have always seen eye to eye, but as I have told you before, you have been a good priest.  I hope that you might consider serving as a Deacon in the church. You would be an asset to any parish in that capacity of service."

Peter was surprised, and he smiled a dubious, crooked smile.  "Why thank you, Father MacAnally.  I have considered doing just that."

"And how do you think Assumpta will take to the idea?" Father Mac asked.

"She knows of my feelings and my desires to go on serving God and the Church, and she would not have it any other way."

It was Father MacAnally's turn to be surprised.  "Well, Father Clifford.  You may be a miracle worker, indeed.  God works in
mysterious ways, his wonders to perform.  I will never cease to be amazed till I die."  He started to walk away but turned back.  "I will get the Bishop's signature on your release papers this afternoon then put them in the mail.  You should hear back within days.  See you down at Fitzgerald's."  And with a wave of his hand he walked down the sidewalk.
 
Peter watched him go and took a deep, cleansing breath of fresh air.  He felt no sadness, only joy.  The church stood on a rise, and from his vantage point he could see much of Ballykissangel, the River Angel -- a silver ribbon under the mid-day sun, and (from behind Kathleen Hendley's shop) part of the bridge that crossed over it.  His eyes followed the road as it wound its way through the green Irish hills toward Cilldargan, now and again disappearing behind those hills.  In the distance were the
mountains.

This country, this village, had become home to him, and its people his family. He knew that not everyone would accept his decision at first, but he believed they would come to accept it, just as over the past three years they had to come to accept him as one of their own.  He would always be the 'Englishman', but he would be the 'Englishman of Ballykissangel'.

THE  END