Then the moment passed. As Assumpta faded into the distance, the feeling of dread inside of Peter grew. He felt as if he had to have her within his sight. Where he could protect her? Perhaps, but Assumpta had always been the stronger one. Having been raised as a Catholic, he was accustomed to guilt. It was part of him. But, this was not guilt.  He had no doubts about his
decision, no question that this was right. Why then, did he have this odd feeling that was gnawing away at his bliss?

Bliss. Had he ever felt true bliss before? His first reaction to this was that, of course he had. When he prayed, he felt a peace unlike anything else. Peace, but not bliss. This was new, he thought. Grasping for a reason behind this feeling, he rationalized that this must be a part of being truly happy and that he should rejoice at finally being able to give up "the game". As the old judge had so astutely observed (what seemed like so long ago), he never was very good at it.

He wished that the judge was there right now. There to talk to and to impart his wisdom. Wisdom that came from experience and from knowing, not from seminary classes and theology. He wished that he had a friend to sort through all of this with. But, priests don't have that kind of friends.  But, he thought, what am I now? Officially a priest, yes. But, in reality, he hadn't been a real priest since he had taken refuge from the rain in a blue van, in a different life.

A life that had changed when the bus stopped on that road. When he chose to walk. When it started to rain. As he walked he had felt that the decision to send him to Ballykissangel had been a wise one. He believed, of course, that his involvement with Jenny had been innocent enough. He made himself believe this. Here, far away from her, he thought that he could continue to deny the truth, even to himself. The truth that he did have feelings for her. That he COULD have feelings for a woman.  Here, he would be "safe". What could make him face reality in a tiny little town in Ireland? Here, he could go about his duties, say Mass, hear confessions, say the words. Here, he thought, I can focus. I can make my mother proud. I can be a priest. Then,
it started to rain.

Peter blinked as the raindrops hit his eyelashes. Deep in thought, he hadn't heard the rumble of thunder. Shaking off the dark thoughts running through his mind, he again felt the happiness that his decision had brought him.  He pushed aside any thoughts that clouded that happiness. He started to walk back to town. It was nearing dark now and the rain was falling steadily. He
stopped on the bridge, where he had often stood deep in thought. Pulling a coin from his pocket, he threw it into the river. For luck, he told himself.  In a way, the bridge was taking him from one life to another. He turned and looked at Fitzgerald's there on the other side.  Had the paint always been that bright shade of blue? Had the pansies in the flower boxes always been so beautiful? Smiling to himself at the giddiness he felt, he stepped into the road to cross to Fitzgerald's. It was time for the food fair.

It seemed to Peter that he had blinked and there he was, walking up the hill from the lake. Assumpta's ashes had scattered from his hands over the lake, blown away gently by the spring breeze. What had transpired over the past couple of days, he could barely recall with any clarity. But, he at last had a home for that gnawing feeling of dread. It was now at home in his soul. What had happened to that bliss, he thought. Had it ever been real? No. This was reality. This empty, lonely feeling. He had prepared for this his whole life, he realized now.

As he reached the top of the hill, he was made aware, again, that while his grief was unique in a way, it was not alone. He allowed himself to be comforted and to comfort in return, thankful that he did have friends like these, afterall.

Over stories and wine, and chinese food, Assumpta's friends laughed and cried and remembered. What would she think, indeed. And where would they go when the day had ended? Facing this together was one thing, but to go home and face it alone was quite another. So, they stayed. They stayed until dusk had fallen and the stars rose in the sky. Peter watched his friends intently, trying to imprint their faces in his mind, knowing that these special people were becoming a part of his past even as he sat there with them.

Peter looked at the town in which he had lived a lifetime in 3 years. He looked at St. Joseph's. It was still beautiful, it was he who had changed. His eyes moved down to Fitzgerald's and held, the tears welling up in his eyes. Fionh's barking snapped him out of this gaze and back to reality. He made himself turn his back to the little village and put every ounce of strength that he had into putting one foot in front of the other and walking away from that world.

He didn't know where he was going until he arrived a few days later. Knocking on the familiar door, he was startled when a young child answered. Of course, he thought, this is Marie, Jenny's daughter. So, that's how much time has passed, he realized. When Jenny appeared from the next room, Peter could not hide the look of surprise on his face. She was obviously pregnant.  Peter stammered that he could not stay, had just stopped by while in town to visit his mother. Jenny would have none of it and insisted that he stay. Over the next couple of hours, they talked over tea. Jenny told Peter about her husband of 1 1/2 years. She told him that had it not been for Peter's caring about her enough to be honest with her, she could never have let go of her feelings for him and could never have allowed herself to love someone else. She had Peter to thank, she insisted, for the tremendous happiness in her life now.

Walking to his mother's house, Peter felt grateful for Jenny's happiness. That was one area of his past that he could now put to rest without the guilt that had been gnawing at him.  Speaking of guilt, here he was at his mother's door. She would be so disappointed in him, he knew. His mother had not expected to see Peter so soon after his last visit. It seemed to Peter his
mother was feeling particularly well, considering the condition she had been in when he had seen her last. But, his memory of the events of the past few weeks were still hazy. As a matter of fact, he still felt as though he were going through his days in a fog.

His mother held his hand as Peter related the whole  story of his life in Ballykissangel and of his love for Assumpta and of what had happened in one terrifying instant. Peter cried for Assumpta and for what he felt was his mother's disappointment in him for leaving the church. His mother, however, was not disappointed in him. She was proud of him, she said. He had been a
good priest, but, he could not deny his heart. That she knew. She only wanted for him to be happy. He did the right thing by allowing his feelings for Assumpta to take precedence, she said. Your feelings for her are honest and true, she said and I know that she feels the same way. I can see it when you're together.

Peter was listening to his mother and a wave of relief washed over him. For months he had worried about how it would affect his mother if he left the church. Now he knew. He could not disappoint her, or God, if he was being true to himself and to his feelings. As this realization struck him, he heard his mother's words, "I can see it when you're together." But, his mother had never met Assumpta, had never been to Ballykissangel, had never seen them together.

Setting up the tables for the food fair, Assumpta had looked out the window just in time to see Peter step off of the curb.  Apparently deep in thought, or blinded by the rain, he had never seen the car that hit him.

The red flashing lights of the ambulance outside of Fitzgerald's blended with the rain for an eerie light show. Dr. Ryan put a coat around Assumpta's shoulders and insisted that she ride in the ambulance with Peter to the hospital. Assumpta stepped up into the ambulance just as Peter was coming to. He blinked at the bright light inside of the vehicle and blinked again when his eyes focused on Assumpta's. He again felt her small hand in his and suddenly realized that the feeling of dread he had had earlier was, in fact, guilt. He also realized that the feeling was now gone.

Assumpta gripped Peter's hand and realized that, despite the minor scrapes and bruises, he had a look of true happiness in his eyes. He started to speak and she leaned down to hear him.  "I love you", he said.

"Would you take that thing off when you say that", she said, smirking at his collar. He reached up, took off the collar and handed it to Assumpta.  Before the driver closed the back door of the ambulance, she stepped out and threw it into the river.