The Saint

“Your body is a temple, Eleanor. You should treat it like the priceless and holy vessel it is. I learned one thing and one thing only from watching my father’s wife. If you’re going to redecorate, either learn how to do it properly, or hire a professional.”

He took his helmet off the handlebars and started the motorcycle. Its impressive engine roared to life and Eleanor felt the vibrations from the ground up to her stomach.

“You’re not a normal priest, are you?”

He gave her a smile that hit her like a slap to the face and a kiss on the mouth all at once.

“My God, I hope not.”

With those final words, he put on his helmet and kicked out the stand with his heel. Eleanor took three giant steps back. He rode out of the parking lot and left her standing there alone.

She watched him until he disappeared from view. And then she listened until the sound of his engine retreated into silence.

“I’m yours, Søren,” she said to no one but God, and didn’t know what she meant by it. She only knew it was true.

She was his whatever the consequences. She was his.

Amen. Amen.

So be it.

6 (#ulink_02398e4e-200a-5ec5-816c-5436f951c16d)

Eleanor

ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT, THE MIRACLE ELEANOR prayed for happened. Her mother had to go into work early. She’d be gone from five until midnight. Eleanor could leave the house for a couple of hours without anyone noticing.

She’d seen on the church bulletin that someone was holding a Lenten prayer service at six that night. Perfect excuse. For twenty minutes, she worked on her hair until it resembled human hair and not her usual lion’s mane. She put on clean clothes—tight jeans and a V-neck sweater. In all her life she’d never walked so fast to church.

When she arrived at Sacred Heart, she didn’t find anyone praying. She should probably ask someone where the service was. Maybe Søren would know?

Eleanor tiptoed up to the door and found it ajar. Inside the office she spied a lamp on the desk and shadows moving.

“Knock knock,” she said without actually knocking. The door opened all the way, and Eleanor took a step back.

Søren stood in the doorway clad in his clerics and collar. He didn’t seem displeased to see her.

“Hello, Eleanor. Nice to see you again.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

She peeked around his shoulder and peered inside. Books sat stacked on the desk and chairs.

“You’re moving in?”

“Father Gregory’s sister has asked for his things.”

Eleanor took a step back. Standing so close to him meant she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

“He’s really not coming back?”

Søren slowly shook his head.

“You have to understand that a stroke is a serious condition. Once he’s out of the hospital he’ll be staying with his sister and her husband.”

“Are they nice people?”

He seemed momentarily taken aback by her question.

“His sister and her husband? I haven’t met them, but she and I spoke on the phone. She seemed very kind and concerned.”

“That’s good.”

Eleanor bit her bottom lip while trying to think of something else to say.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry. I was going to go to this prayer thing but I can’t find it. I saw—”

“I mean with your lip.”

“I don’t know. I bite it sometimes. Habit.”

“Stop it. The only girls I’ve ever seen doing that are either not very intelligent or are trying to look not very intelligent. I refuse to believe you’re either.”

“Really? You don’t even know me.”

He smiled and took a step back into the office.

“I know you.”

Eleanor started to enter the office.

“What do you mean you know me?” she asked, but when she crossed the threshold, he held up a hand.

“Out.”

“Out?”

“Out of my office.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Eleanor took a step back into the hallway.

“I’m not allowed in your office?”

“No one under the age of sixteen is allowed in my office without a parent present. No one over sixteen is allowed alone in my office unless the door is open. These are my rules.”