Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(41)

So instead of an interrogation, I gently ask, “Are you working on that electrical problem in the school again today?”

I turn into the church parking lot, and Chase continues to do what he’s done the whole ride to work. He stares out the side window, seemingly lost in thought.

I repeat the question, a tad louder this time, and he replies, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t hear you. Uh, I finished that project. But I think Father Maridale has something for me to do in the rectory today.”

“Figures.” I laugh. “The one time I won’t be in the rectory office, and you’ll be right down the hall from where I’d normally be sitting.”

“That’s right,” Chase says, stifling a yawn. “I forgot you’ll be in the school gym all day. Organizing stuff for the rummage sale, yeah?”

“Yep.” I place my dilapidated Neon in park and turn off the ignition. “Me and Missy, sorting and pricing all the things people have been bringing in.” I twirl my finger, and add sarcastically, “Woo-hoo.”

I don’t mind working with Missy, but sorting through a multitude of boxes and bags filled with donated items promises to be tedious.

“You and Missy, eh?” Chase chuckles. “Try not to kill each other.”

“Hey.” I smack his arm. “I think she and I are past that, smart-ass.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he murmurs distractedly. Chase’s attention is starting to waver again. “That’s good, babe.”

I know Chase is worried about Will, especially since we have to leave him all alone out at the farmhouse today.

“Hey, your brother will be all right.” I place my hand on his forearm. “He’ll probably just sleep all day. He has to still be hurting. Nursing a colossal hangover, I imagine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Chase replies. “But I’d just feel better if we could wrap up early and get back to the house.”

“Yeah, sure.” I nod. “Of course.”

Chase and I eventually go our separate ways, with him heading to the rectory and me meeting up with Missy in the school gym.

In the gym, Missy and I accomplish a lot in getting things ready for the rummage sale. Together, we sort through dozens of bags and boxes, each one overflowing with an assortment of items. Clothes, appliances, knickknacks—you name it, we come across it. We find a kind of rhythm of sort and price, sort and price, and then, at one point, as we’re kneeling on the gymnasium floor we come across a big box filled with baby clothes.

“Aw, Kay, check this out.” Missy shakes out and holds up a tiny blue onesie with tumbling and romping puppies adorning the soft-looking fabric.

I reach out and touch the material. It’s soft as can be. When I rub my thumb across a rolling-over puppy, I coo, “This is so precious, Missy.”

Missy folds the adorable onesie and places it on the floor. She continues to dig through the box. “There are so many cute things in here,” she gushes. “Damn, I wish I could have some of this stuff for when the baby arrives.”

I pause and sit back on my heels. “You know, I’m sure Father Maridale won’t mind if you set a few things aside. You know how generous he is. I bet if you ask him he’ll say, ‘sure, take whatever you want.’”

Missy shrugs and starts to put baby clothes back in the box. “Yeah, maybe,” she mumbles.

I assume her reticence means she hasn’t yet told Father Maridale about her pregnancy.

“Missy, you have to tell Father Maridale eventually. He’s bound to find out.” I gesture to her still-flat tummy, covered by a dress far more conservative than the strappy sundress I have on today. “Your stomach won’t stay flat like that for long, and he’ll know for sure then.”

“He already knows, Kay,” Missy replies softly.

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Confession,” she states. “I went last week. So, yeah, he knows.”

I reach over and touch her hand. “Speaking of confession, Missy, have you talked to Tony yet? Does he know he’s the father of your baby?”

She shakes her head and focuses back on the baby clothes.

“Missy?” I prompt, squeezing her hand before releasing. “Are you ever going to tell him? I think it might be better to get it over with as soon as possible.”

“Yeah,” she says on a sigh, “you’re right. And I’ll talk to him soon. I guess I’m still just not quite ready.”

Something is off with Missy. But since I have no clue what all she’s going through, I let it drop.

The rest of the afternoon flies by. Father Maridale stops in to check on our progress. He, of course, gives Missy the green light to keep the baby clothes she’s picked out. And since we’re pretty much done sorting and pricing, he tells us we can go home for the day.

I text Chase to let him know I’m done early.

Great, I’m outta here too. Meet you by your car in five.

Missy and I walk out to the parking lot together. I offer to help her carry the baby clothes she’s stuffed into a big plastic bag, but she insists she’s got it.

As we near my Neon, I notice Missy’s car is only a few spots away. I then notice Chase has arrived. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door of my car, looking delicious.