Remembrance (The Mediator #7)(41)
The priest looked amused. “I’m not the pope, Susannah. I don’t have the power to change what’s been official church doctrine for thousands of years.”
“Well, you’ve always performed same-sex marriages off church grounds, so you don’t seem to mind bending the rules of some church doctrine—”
I was surprised when Father Dominic’s expression changed, and he interrupted, in an animated voice, “Susannah, you’re absolutely right.”
“Wait . . . I am?” I could hardly believe my good fortune. “You’ll tell Jesse it’s okay for us to have sex?”
“No, of course not.” He looked horrified. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean you’re right it’s my fault about Kelly’s stepdaughter. And it’s high time I did something about it.”
“What? No.” I stared at him as he rose to his feet and began to rush about the office. “How is it your fault?”
“Susannah, I officiated at her parents’ wedding and did not notice the poor, tortured soul clinging to her then, nor did I notice her at any time this semester since Becca started attending this school. So you see, it’s my fault, and my responsibility.”
A feeling of dread closed over me. It was far different than the feeling of dread I’d felt when I’d seen Paul’s e-mail, or that the flowers on my desk were from him and not Jesse. But it was still there.
“Father D, I agree we need to do something, but don’t you think we should probably wait until we have more information?”
“Nonsense. Find out what homework Becca is missing in her classes today and I’ll drive to her house with the assignments personally. That way I’ll be able to speak with her as well as her parents, as I ought properly to have done several months ago before their wedding, or at least when they first enrolled her here.”
“Father Dominic, I get where you’re coming from. I really do. And I appreciate that once again, you’re trying to do the right thing. But I don’t think you have anything to feel guilty about. At their wedding you had no idea there was anything like this going on. You didn’t even see Lucia. Like you said, she revealed herself to me, not to you. So I really think I’m the one who—”
“Susannah, I’m not feeling guilty. I’m simply trying to do my job.”
“Right, I know. But remember what happened last time?”
He glanced at me, confused. “Last time?”
“The last time the ghost of a very angry girl tore up this school.”
He continued to look confused for a moment, then remembered. “The girl who desecrated Father Serra’s statue? What on earth reminded you of her?”
“You said she was the most violent spirit you’d ever seen.” And, uh, there was a rumor going around the school that I’d severed Father Serra’s head. “And look what happened when you tangled with her.”
“That was an entirely different situation, Susannah, as you well know.”
“Maybe. But I still think it’s a mistake to go out there. What makes you think you’ll even see Lucia today? You didn’t before.”
“Really, Susannah, you don’t seem to think very highly of my skills, as either an educator or a mediator.”
“That isn’t true.”
Except of course that lately, it was.
“I assure you, Susannah, I’ve been dealing with troubled children far longer than you have. May I point out that you were one of them once?”
Before I could protest that I was never “troubled,” only disruptive, he went on to say, “And you ended up far exceeding my expectations for you. Except for your somewhat colorful vocabulary—and your occasionally regrettable wardrobe, of course—you’ve grown into a wonderfully mature, accomplished young woman I’d be proud to call my own daughter. Well, granddaughter perhaps would be more apt.”
I hesitated. “Well, thank you, Father. That’s very nice. But shouldn’t you still let me—”
“Let you what?” He was putting on his black jacket, checking in the mirror to make sure his clerical collar was straight. “Let you come with me? Then who will do your job? Sister Ernestine will certainly discover Ms. Diaz and Mr. Gillarte’s affair if you are not here to make excuses for them. No, Susannah—” He turned from the mirror to look at me, not seeming to notice my astonished expression. I’d had no idea he knew about the Diaz-Gillarte imbroglio. “It’s my responsibility, not yours.”
“But.” I had to try one more time. “Supposing she does reveal herself to you. She’s not normal. Even you admit she’s insanely strong. So if you piss her off, you could get more than drowned, or the head of a statue thrown at you—”
“Susannah, I’ve been doing this quite a bit longer than you. I do think I know my way around a mediation by now. Besides,” he added with a grin, “believe it or not, children like me. It’s entirely possible that Becca, and even her spirit companion, will listen calmly to what I have to say. Most people do, you know.”
I tried my hardest to stop him. In retrospect, I should have tried harder. I should have called Jesse—even though he was back at the Crossing, catching up on the sleep he’d missed over the last forty-eight hours.
In retrospect, I should have made Gina or Jake wake Jesse up and drive after Father Dominic to stop him. Or I should have gone with him myself, especially after Aunt Pru’s warning.