Disclaimers - See Part 1 for disclaimers.

Chapter Eight

Rhiannon studied her bus schedule, then picked up the tattered city map that had been laying beside her on the stoop. Frowning a little, she worked out how to get to Lee's place on public transit. She was still amazed that she'd agreed to the unprecedented invitation. Rhi wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't ultimately back out, but decided she'd better check out the route just in case.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she glanced up to see a tall, gangling figure making his way down the street. An involuntary smile crossed her face as she watched Father David ambling toward her, but she quashed it before he entered her yard. Carrying a plastic bag, he sauntered up to the stoop and flopped down beside her without saying a word.

Eyeing him with a half-amused, half-irritated gaze, she said, "You never know when to give up, do you, Ichabod?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Nope." Opening the bag, he extracted a can of Coke and passed it to her before taking a second one for himself. Popping the tab, he tilted his head back and took a long drink. Rhi watched in fascination as his prominent Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow.

Sighing in relief, he lowered the can and pressed it to his face. "Hot one out today," he said casually. Then, gesturing at the unopened can in Rhi's hand, he assured her, "It's cold. I just picked them up at Joe's."

Rhi nodded. Joe's was the ancient neighbourhood store that had miraculously survived the arrival of the convenience chains. She pulled back the tab and took a small sip. "S'good," she conceded. The two sat in amiable silence sipping their Cokes until David pointed at the schedule she'd set aside.

"Going somewhere?"

She peered at him, but his pale blue eyes showed nothing but casual interest. Relaxing, she said, "I was invited to dinner tomorrow and I was just figuring out how to get there."

"You haven't been to your friend's house before?"

She couldn't help a small ironic laugh. "I barely know these people. Heck, I've only met Lee a few times, and I've never met her family." She shook her head in puzzlement. "I still don't know why she asked me."

"It's entirely possible that she simply likes you and would like to get to know you better," he suggested dryly. Rhi looked up at him sharply and wasn't sure she liked the amusement dancing around his thin lips, but before she could retort, he asked, "Did you meet her at work?"

"Sort of." Rhi told David the whole story of her initial encounter with Lee and how the big woman had intervened against the King brothers. She noticed his frown as she recounted the confrontation in the alley, but he held his tongue.

"So then when she's there to see my boss on Friday, right out of the blue she asked me to come to dinner." Rhi shook her head. "I thought maybe I heard wrong, but she really meant it." She fell silent, contemplating the unlikely invitation.

"She sounds like a good person," David commented lightly. "You'll probably enjoy a chance to get to know her and her family."

Rhi glanced up and pinning him with her gaze, said defiantly, "She's gay. She lives with her partner and her partner's son." She frowned when the priest just nodded affably and took another sip of his Coke.

"Isn't this where you're supposed to warn me off?" she challenged, not sure why she was pressing the issue.

"Warn you off what? Having dinner with a very nice woman who saved you from a couple of thugs? I suppose I could caution you to check the potato salad twice. You never know with that stuff. Won't touch it myself. I've heard a lot of horror stories about potato salad and ptomaine poisoning. I remember going to a church picnic one time in Fort St. John, and Old Aggie had brought her world famous potato salad. Well, it got left out in the sun too long and darned if it didn't end up sending a dozen people to hospital."

David's tone was tranquil and his body language relaxed. Rhi stared at him in exasperation. He never reacted as she expected he would, and it was frustrating. How do you fight with someone who won't fight back?

"Why are you talking about stupid salad?" she demanded. "Shouldn't you be launching into a sermon about the evils of homosexuality? God knows I've heard Aunt Hettie raving about homosexual offenders not being for the kingdom of heaven often enough."

The priest regarded her mildly. "Well now, I suspect your aunt and I may not agree on a lot of things. She strikes me as woman who adheres more to the letter of the law than the spirit." Sighing he pulled himself upright. "Let me tell you a little story, Rhiannon Davies. Many years ago, before you were even born, I arrived at the seminary as a green and gangling kid, wet behind the ears with hay stalks still sticking out of my hair."

Rhi couldn't help a spontaneous grin at the image and David smiled back. "Yup, I know it's hard to believe I wasn't always the suave and sophisticated man of the world you see before you." The giggle slipped out before Rhi could stop it and she focused her eyes on her Coke can, mentally rebuking herself for falling under his spell. However she continued to listen to his mellifluous voice, drawn unwillingly into the tale spun by a master storyteller.

"I was scared to death. I knew I wanted to be a priest—had known that for as long as I could remember--but I wasn't sure I had what it took. God must have been smiling on me that day because I got assigned quarters with another new seminarian. His name was Conor; and if ever a man was born to be a priest, he was."

David drifted silent and when Rhi peered up at him, she saw a faraway look in his eyes. After a moment, he shook himself and picked up his narrative.

"Conor was beautiful inside and out. It was like his soul was so brilliant it shone right through his skin. Even the strictest of our instructors weren't immune to his appeal. He was a few years older but he took me under his wing. Everything came easily to Conor but he never used that as an excuse to slack off, and he was always ready to help those of us less gifted." Looking ruefully at his companion, David said, "That would definitely include me."

Rhi smiled a little at that and nodded encouragingly.

"I've never been sure if I'd have gotten through seminary without Conor's help, but as it turned out, we were assigned to the same large inner city parish when we graduated and spent the next couple of years working closely together." David frowned and turned earnestly to Rhi. "He could've been or done anything, you know. If he wanted, he'd be a bishop today, heck, maybe an archbishop, but that wasn't Conor's way. He genuinely felt his calling was working with people in need. He once told me that he'd been torn between a career in medicine or the church."

David paused and, looking down, said sadly, "He should've chosen medicine."

Surprised at the melancholy statement, Rhiannon bluntly demanded, "Why? What happened to him?"

Clucking at her a little for her impatience, the priest smiled. "You read the last page of a book first, don't you?"

"I do not!" Rhi protested, and then admitted contritely, "Well, sometimes."
Nudging David, she prodded him to go on.

"Anyway, I was posted to a northern parish after a couple of years, but we stayed close friends. He was my best man when I got married, godfather to my kids, and he helped pick up the pieces when Hannah left me and took the kids back to Halifax."

David suddenly stood and paced back and forth in front of the stoop. Watching him, Rhi could detect anguish in his pale blue eyes. "About four years ago, a brother priest told me that Conor had left the priesthood and that he had AIDs. I couldn't believe it. I took a leave of absence and flew out to the coast. I found Conor on Salt Springs Island, living with a man he'd never mentioned to me. I was so angry. I yelled at him--said things I never meant to say, and he bore it all quietly."

"Why were you angry? Because he was gay?"

David shook his head. "In part, maybe. He was my hero, and everything I wanted to be as a priest and a man. More that that though, I was furious that he hadn't told me when we were as close as brothers."

Rhiannon regarded him steadily and had a sudden flash of insight. "You were scared."

He stared at her for a long moment and then collapsed on the stoop beside her.
In a voice so quiet she had to strain to hear him, he said, "Yes. Conor was the one thing in my world I depended on. He was my rock. And now this horrible disease was going to take him from a world that needed him—and from me."

Reacting on a long-buried instinct, Rhi reached for his hand, marveling at how small her hand felt as it cradled his. They sat in silence for a time until Rhi asked softly, "Did he die?"

"No, he's still alive, but he's so thin now that a good wind would blow him over. His partner died two years ago though."

"Did you make your peace with him?"

David cocked his head reflectively. "Eventually, but it took me a year. He put up with my nonsense until finally he came up to see me and made me sit down and talk everything out. He humbled me with his grace and he taught me, just as he's been doing for over twenty years. Since then I get out to see him every chance I can, and we talk all the time. He showed me how to live, and now he's showing me how to die. He's not bitter, and he's determined to make his life count right up to his last breath."

Rhi thought about his story and then asked slowly, "So how do you square Conor with what your church teaches? Do you think he's bound for hell?"

With a short laugh David shook his head. "If ever a human being was heaven-bound, Conor is. It's not like he's an isolated case either. I've read stats that say at least three hundred priests, mostly Catholic, have died of AIDs-related causes in the U.S. alone, and that's only the ones they know about. In fact, a Kansas newspaper did a study that showed that the AIDs death rate among priests was more than six times that of the general population in the U.S. I doubt our numbers are that much different in Canada."

Rhi stared at him, taken aback at the figures he'd cited.

Thoughtfully, David considered her question further before answering gravely. "It's like what I referred to before with your aunt. There's the letter of the law and then there's the spirit. God is a spirit and he wants to be worshipped in spirit and in truth, not with rules and laws made up by man. God's truth never changes, but how it manifests itself does. For example, the Bible says to be fruitful and multiply, but if anything, our world's overpopulated, so we don't need men married to four wives and we don't need to ensure that every marriage produces children. But underneath everything, the necessary truths of love, faithfulness and devotion endure."

Still trying to elicit the bottom line, Rhi asked, "So you wouldn't have a problem with Lee being gay?"

"Does Lee love her partner? Is she devoted to the woman and the woman's child? Are they a solid, faithful union?"

Rhi frowned at the hint of a smile that played on her companion's face. "How should I know? I've never even met them!" Then wryly she added, "But I get your point. Besides, from what little I know, I'll bet Lee is great with her family."

"You really like her, don't you?"

She considered that. "Yeah, I do. I bet you would too. She's got this warmth about her that you just can't help liking. You really feel like she's interested in you." She dropped her eyes. "I don't run into that much." She looked up quickly, ready to forestall any hint of pity but only found David regarding her benignly.

"I'm sure you'll have a terrific time tomorrow."

Scowling a little, Rhi recalled the worries that had been plaguing her ever since she'd accepted Lee's invitation. "I don't know if I should go."

Surprise evident in his voice, David asked, "Surely it doesn't bother you that Lee is gay?"

With an unladylike snort, she glared at him. "Of course not, Ichabod!"

"Then what's the problem?"

She could tell he was genuinely confused by her contrariness and she sighed. "I don't know what to say. I suck at small talk. I'll probably make a total ass of myself. I don't even know what to bring." With a hint of desperation she looked at the priest. "Am I supposed to bring something? Do people bring things when they're invited to dinner?"

David blinked at the flood of words. "Whoa, slow down. Yes, it's often customary to bring a small gift for your hosts."

"Like what?" Rhi shot back.

A grin lifted the corner of his lips and Rhiannon could see the amusement in his eyes. Before she could get riled, he lifted a calming hand and spoke soothingly. "A bottle of wine is nice, or some flowers."

"Wine?" Rhi gulped nervously. "I don't know anything about wine. I'd probably get something they hated and then they'll think I'm an idiot, but they'll drink it just to be polite and I'll see them forcing themselves to swallow; and if I bring them flowers, they'll probably be allergic to them..." She stopped when she saw David staring at her in amazement.

"It's an invitation to dinner, Rhi, not an audience with the Queen."

She fell into a sulky silence and heard him sigh beside her. "Why don't you just forget about bringing anything this time, and next time you'll know more about what they're like and what they enjoy?"

She glanced at him sideways and said wryly, "You're assuming there'll be second time."

David started to laugh and eventually Rhi joined him in acknowledging how paranoid she was being.

"Okay, okay, I'll relax."

David's chuckles subsided and suddenly he asked, "Why does your aunt call you 'Anne'?"

Startled at the non sequitur, Rhi took a moment to mentally switch tracks. Frowning automatically at the mention of her aunt, she explained. "When I came to live here, Aunt Hettie decided my name was too fancy and it would just give me airs about being better than everyone else, so she enrolled me in school as Anne, and insisted that everyone call me that. I tried to tell people my name was Rhiannon, but no one would listen to me. Eventually I gave up. Even my bloody high school diploma has Anne on it, but as soon as I left school and registered in Career College, I did so under my real name."

David shook his head in bewilderment. "Now why would she do that? Taking a child's identity is hardly going to help them make such a big adjustment."

"I think she hated my Dad and felt my Mom married way beneath her. He was a Welsh immigrant without a penny to his name. He named me after his mother and probably Aunt Hettie didn't want any reminders of his heritage in her house. I guess plain old Anne sounded more proper to her."

The priest grunted his disapproval and Rhi found herself warmed by the support. Her earliest battles, the beginning of half a lifetime of conflict with her aunt, had been over her insistence on keeping her name. She'd lost, mostly because every time she refused to answer to 'Anne' she'd been harshly punished, but somehow she felt that if David had been the priest at the time, she'd have had a staunch ally in her corner.

With another abrupt change of subject, a quirk Rhi was coming to expect from the priest, he said, "I have a proposition for you."

They looked at each other with identical grins, recalling their inauspicious meeting the previous week.

"The answer's still no, Ichabod," Rhiannon sassed him with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "You and the rest of the female population." They chuckled together and David continued. "No, I was wondering if you were interested in earning a little extra money helping Tupper and I with a church improvement project."

Her interest piqued, Rhi asked, "What kind of project?"

"Well, let me tell you a little story," the priest started. Rhi didn't even try to hide her smile this time. She was becoming convinced this man would still be telling stories on his deathbed. "Do you know Mrs. Kristen?"

Rhi nodded. "Yeah, she and her husband are the English couple, right? He always looks like a bird is nesting in his hair and she always bosses him around?"

"Right. That's them. Well, last Sunday they're in the congregation and I'm preaching on the Good Samaritan." He grinned sideways at his companion. "You can never lose with the classics. Anyway, I'm giving it my all, trying to show them how the old story relates to our lives today. I'm hammering it into their heads that the unclean and outcast of our society are our Samaritans and how we have a responsibility to care for them too, not just those sitting beside us in the pews. I've just gotten to the part where I'm talking about how dealing with people you don't normally like makes us deal with ourselves and our own prejudices, when all of a sudden I hear a shriek that darn near broke the stained glass windows."

David paused and Rhi realized she'd been hanging on his words. "What?" she demanded. "What was it?"

"The very thing I asked myself," the priest said soberly, but Rhi detected the twinkle in his eyes. "I looked out over the congregation and Mrs. Kristen was jumping up and down in a rear pew, batting at her husband who appeared to be pawing her rear end."

Rhi could feel the grin begin to split her face and saw a matching one on David's. "What did you do?" she asked, trying to muffle her giggles.

"For a moment I thought I should ignore it and go on, but honestly, having a lady jumping around in the middle of your sermon tends to distract your audience; so I was about to ask what was wrong when Mr. Kristen pipes up, ''Ere, not to worry, Father. The old girl just 'ad a splinter in her arse.' He's waving something triumphantly in the air and she turns and hits him over the head with her purse. He starts cussing her out in very descriptive Cockney, and by that time I've completely lost control of the situation. He's ducking and trying to get away and finally she chases him right out of the church."

Convulsed with laughter, Rhi wiped at her eyes, entertained as much at David's dead-on mimic of the old Englishman's accent as the mental image of the Kristen's staging World War III in the pews. Trying to get her breath, she gasped, "I'm surprised she even felt it!"

David tried to look reproving, but Rhi could tell he agreed with her. "Well, she is a lady of substance, to be sure. I still don't know how I made it through the rest of the sermon but after the service, when the church had cleared, Tupper and I went back to check on the pew she was in. It really wasn't in great shape. It looked like someone had taken out their boredom one day by carving chunks out of the wood. I guess Mrs. Kristen didn't notice when she sat down, and she must have moved at just the wrong angle and been impaled."

Rhi's laughter had subsided to the occasional chuckle and she asked, "So how does this relate to me earning some money?"

"Well, Tupper spent this week sanding and smoothing that pew and a few others that needed it. They just need to be stained now, but the problem is that Tupper can't do that part because his asthma acts up when he's exposed to the smell of paints and lacquers. I don't want to leave it and I won't have time this week to get it done myself, so I wondered if you'd be interested in doing it."

"I've never done that kind of work," Rhi told him.

"How hard can it be? Besides Tupper will show you what to do. He just can't stay in an enclosed space once you start."

Regarding him shrewdly, Rhi asked, "So what's the pay like?"

David laughed. "I had a feeling that would be one of your first questions. I'm afraid all my budget allows for is minimum wage, but I'll throw in a meal allowance too."

"Huh. When would you want me to start?"

"Monday after you've finished work, if that's good for you. They'll take a couple of coats, but you should be done in a few days."

He looked at her hopefully and Rhi was reminded of a basset hound she'd seen as a child. Her mind drifted back over the years to that 'wrinkle dog' that she'd begged her parents to get, even though she knew they couldn't afford to feed another mouth. The mutt had had an almost identical look in his big soulful eyes. She found herself wanting to say yes, but her ingrained caution compelled her to say, "Let me think about it and I'll let you know tomorrow."

He nodded and pulled a card out of his shirt pocket. Handing it to her, he stood and said, "Well, I'd better be going. Give me a call when you make up your mind."

She lifted her hand in a half-wave as he strolled down the path and out to the sidewalk. Then glancing down at the card, she turned the business card over and saw that he'd scrawled 'David' and another number on the back. Comparing it to the official church number on the front, she realized he'd given her his private number.

Bemused she stared at the card for long moments before shaking her head. Why do I feel like my life is being turned upside down right now? But there was no unpleasantness attached to the thought, and she carefully tucked the card in her back pocket before picking up her bus schedule again.

***************************************************

Dana rode the elevator up to Marika's floor. She was later than she'd anticipated returning Lee's keys but when she'd called earlier, all she'd gotten were heartfelt moans on the telephone, so she decided to give her mate more recovery time while she got the grocery shopping done.

She walked down the hall to their friend's door, amusing herself picturing the two lushes this morning after. Tapping loudly when she reached her destination, she grinned as the door swung open to reveal a scowling Marika.

"Good afternoon," Dana said brightly, enjoying the wince her brisk tone elicited.

"Yeah, yeah," Marika muttered, turning back into the condo. "Here to pick up that bad influence you call a partner?"

Dana trailed after her friend, and entering the living room, heard her partner grumble, "I'm a bad influence? Who invented tequila roulette?" Spooky chose that moment to saunter by, rubbing up against the arm dangling off the side of the couch. Lee pushed him away and without opening her eyes, growled, "Can't you do something about your damned cat stomping around in combat boots?"

Marika mumbled something under her breath and gingerly lowered herself into the chair opposite the couch.

Dana registered her partner's loose-limbed sprawl on the couch, forearm over her eyes even in the shades-darkened room. Stifling a smile, Dana observed her lover keenly, noting that at least Lee appeared to have showered though she was still in yesterday's clothes. The place had been tidied since her last visit, and a couple of empty coffee mugs sat on the table. Mercilessly, the stocky woman pushed Lee's feet off the couch and took a seat beside her mate.

"Well, you two look like you survived," Dana observed cheerfully.

Lee grunted. "Barely." Then uncovering her eyes long enough to peer at her partner she said plaintively, "I'm not going to get any sympathy today, am I?"

"Nope, not in the least. Self-inflicted injuries, my love. You know the policy on that." Dana laughed at the mournful look on Lee's woebegone countenance. "Don't worry. I'm sure by this time tomorrow, you'll almost be feeling human again."

With a tiny disbelieving shake of her head, Lee wordlessly slid her arm back over her eyes.

Marika spoke up quietly. "About tomorrow..."

Before she could finish the sentence, Lee dropped her arm and pinned her with a fierce stare. "Don't even say it! You are coming, and that's that!"

Dana looked between the two in puzzlement, but noticed that Marika dropped her eyes first and gave a little nod. Before she could ask, Lee swung herself upright and growled, "Let's get going."

The large woman stopped by Marika's chair and dropped one hand on a slender shoulder. The blonde looked up and gave a half-hearted smile. Lee patted her gently and smiled back. "See you tomorrow, right?"

"Okay. I still think it's a bad idea, but I'll see you tomorrow."

Dana followed Lee out of the condo wondering about the exchange she'd witnessed. As soon as they were out in the hall she asked, "What was that all about?"

"She thinks it's a bad idea to fraternize with Lady Mouse outside of the office," Lee said with asperity. "Frankly, I think that little girl scares her."

"Lady Mouse? You mentioned that name last night. What or who is Lady Mouse?" Dana asked curiously.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I invited Marika's assistant to dinner on Sunday." Lee looked at Dana apologetically. "Hope that's all right."

"Of course, you know you can always invite anyone to our home that you want," Dana assured her. "But why is Marika upset about it?"

Lee slung an arm around her partner and hugged her as they waited for the elevator. Nuzzling her a little, she whispered, "You really are the best, you know." Straightening, she continued, "Rhiannon is the one I told you about who faced down those thugs in the alley. She also happens to be Marika's new and temporary assistant. She's not the most sociable person in the world, but I'd like us to give her a chance, love."

"Okay," Dana shrugged. "Is Marika upset because you're fixing her up or something?"

Lee started to laugh and then flinched. "Ouch! No, that's not it at all. Hell, I don't even know if Rhiannon is family. I just think that it'd be good for both of them if they got to know each other outside of the office, and we're the perfect people to help that happen. God knows Marika will never take the initiative on her own and neither would Rhiannon." Looking at Dana seriously now, she added, "They're both good people, my love, and I just have this gut feeling that they'd be friends, given half a chance. I'd like to see them get that chance."

The elevator arrived and the two women entered. After punching the button for the lobby, Dana leaned against the back wall and gazed up at her partner affectionately. "You really are a big marshmallow, you know."

"Marshmallow?" Lee growled indignantly. "I'm no marshmallow."

"Yup, you are," Dana assured her, poking her mate's stomach. "A big, lovable, soft-in-the-centre marshmallow."

"Cut that out," came the gruff answer, but Dana smiled as Lee pulled her into a hug. Contently, she wrapped her arms around her lover as they rode the rest of the way down in a peaceful silence.

Continued in Chapter 9