The Good Left Undone(64)

“Don’t need them.”

“But you need to understand him—his father, the men in his family. The Ulianas. They have trouble being faithful.”

“One uncle! One uncle has a mistress in Foggia.” Paolo threw his hands in the air again.

“I would appreciate it if you would be upset on my behalf, Don Vincenzo, and defend me,” Anina insisted.

“What good would that do?”

Anina gasped. “I would feel supported.”

“I support you. But my job is also to support love. Your love for each other.”

“I’ve asked for forgiveness. I’ve not returned to the bar. I’ve not looked for the woman. I don’t care about her. I love Anina.”

“Ask him why it happened.” Anina kept her eyes on the priest.

“I think he knows. He’s trying to change.”

“I have changed!” Paolo turned to Anina. “You just want me to suffer. You want to control me. You have to be right.”

“I am entitled to my hurt feelings.”

“Entitlement is for kings. We got rid of the king of Italy seventy-five years ago. Besides, we’re all royal in God’s eyes. What do you think God wants in this situation? Paolo? You go first,” the priest said.

“He wants me to be better.”

“Pretty good answer. Anina?”

“He wants me to do what’s right.”

“What if I told you He also wants you to be better?”

“I would be confused,” Anina admitted. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That doesn’t help your case. Righteousness may make you stand taller, but you’ll be standing alone. I believe Paolo is truly sorry for having hurt you.”

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Paolo whined.

The priest took a deep breath. “Paolo, go get a drink of water. And please, stay in the foyer until I come to get you.”

Paolo did as he was told.

Don Vincenzo got up from his desk and sat beside Anina in Paolo’s chair. “Men will never understand that saying stupid things like ‘I didn’t sleep with her’ does not help the situation. In fact, that is not the point at all, is it?”

“It’s not. It’s the betrayal.”

“Anina, I don’t care if you marry Paolo Uliana.”

“You don’t?”

“Who is he to me? Another parishioner I have to love. I have to look past his faults and forgive him when he comes to me in confession. My investment in all this is the salvation of his eternal soul. And yours. So tell me about Paolo. Why did you agree to marry him?”

“He can be loving and compassionate.”

“But I can see he’s difficult.”

“I’m so glad! Sometimes I think I’m crazy. My friends only see the good.”

“Why are you still with him?”

“I love him.”

“Do you? What if I told you that most couples that show up here aren’t able to be honest with each other? They bat around the truth like a cat with a tinfoil ball, sometimes for years. The truth is what makes the difference between them and you and Paolo. He came straight home and told you what he had done.”

“What difference does it make that he told me about it instead of catching him?”

“A lot. He knew he did wrong. Paolo examined his conscience. He begged forgiveness and promises to change. That’s about the best you can expect from another human being in any situation. Ever.”

“How about he doesn’t do stupid things in the first place?”

“That wouldn’t work for me. It would put me out of business.”

Anina laughed. “You’re the worst, Don Vincenzo.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t get the fancy assignments. I’m the quick-fix priest, the bubble gum they stuff in the holes of a boat about to capsize, hoping it won’t sink.”

“I’m sorry, Don Vincenzo. You have a lot of pressure on you.”

“And so do you. And so does every person who tries to love. That’s my point. But that’s also the job. You want to be a wife? Get ready to work like a farmer. When you’ve solved one dilemma, here comes a new set of problems. When you’re serious about love, you’ve got to be just as serious in your commitment to work at it. No running away. No moving out. No disappearing. It wouldn’t help anyway. You can’t outrun your pain because it can be as stubborn as love.”

“Should I marry Paolo?”

“Only if you expect the worst. A wise woman once said that the bride should wear black and the widow white. The bride mourns the loss of hope and the widow is finally free of the pain.”

“I can’t get the picture of what he did out of my mind.”

“The memory is often the monster, not the transgression itself. Being unfaithful is not a part of love or a rejection of it—it’s a lack of will. I’m sure you have experienced a lack of will in your own life.”

“I have.”

“So then you know what he did was a failure of his will, but not of his love.” Don Vincenzo got up and went to his desk drawer, where he punched a tablet of Nicorette gum off the sleeve and popped it into his mouth. He chewed. “What do you want out of life, Anina?”