Author's Note: My warmest thanks to Ronnie Wachuka for his help and lending a male perspective to this entire story. My thanks also to my friend Gloria.
In this chapter, there are things that are not viewed as priestly demeanor. I do not apologize for these, but rather say that friends of mine that are Priests have told me that chastity, poverty and obedience are sometimes ignored as the challenges and temptations of life abound. These men are vulnerable in that they are human. They have the same wants, needs and desires that we all have. The difference lies in their strong commitment to the Church and to their vows.
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Frank stood on the porch of the stately old house and looked over the immaculate yard, flowering shrubs, and gardens. He turned as the door was opened and the maid asked, "May I help you, Father?"
He smiled down into the face of the woman and fleetingly thought of Mammy in Gone With the Wind. She was short, almost as broad as she was long, and he could envision a take-charge attitude, but with a keen sense of humor. He could see it in the laugh lines around her dark eyes.
"Yes, please," he said. "I'm Fr. O'Conner, and I would like to see Mrs. Thompson if she is available."
She motioned him in and closing the door, pointed to the room across from the foyer. "You can please wait in there, Father. I'll tell Mrs. Thompson you're here."
The room was sunny and bright with flowers and antiques. The furniture was quality, yet comfortable. Frank thought to himself, yes, this room looks like Rita; classic elegance, yet comfortable. He stood and looked at the picture above the fireplace. A lovely couple on their wedding day. She was in her wedding gown, he in his Air Force dress uniform. Her large bridal bouquet lay on an antique table next to a candle. He was holding her daughter in his arms and anyone could see the love and happiness on Rita's face. It tugged at his heart and he shook his head sadly. Then he looked at the photo more closely – especially at the small girl held in the man's arms. Could it be true? The cold facts over the telephone had only told him when the baby had been born. The dates were burned in his mind.
"Frank," Rita said softly as she walked into the room. "This is such a surprise."
"Is it?" he asked, turning to face her. "I told you I wanted to see you."
Rita was dressed in black as befit her mourning. Frank took in the black dress that covered her demurely, yet hinted of what was underneath.
She sat primly on the sofa as Frank took the chair opposite her. "How did you find me? I didn't tell you where I live or reveal any way for you to find me."
"I have sources," he replied. "I had to see you."
The maid appeared and Rita asked her to bring coffee and scones for them and then leave them alone. They chatted about her parents and the Church until the coffee was poured and the French doors were closed.
Frank looked up at the picture again. "Your wedding portrait is beautiful. Who is the child?"
Rita's hand shook as she set her coffee cup down. "That's my daughter." She didn't elaborate, or even mention her name, but Frank knew.
Suddenly the doors flew open and her children both spoke at once. "Mother, is it okay to invite friends this afternoon to swim for a while? We may go play tennis though if its not."
Rita smiled and looked at her watch. "Of course its all right. Just make sure its ok with their parents. Oh, and children, next time please mind your manners. I have a guest and we were talking. You both know better."
"Yes, ma'am," they both replied. "We're sorry."
"Now," said Rita, turning them to Frank, "this is my daughter Frances Anne and my son, Michael. Children, this is Father O'Conner. He is a friend that I knew years ago in Rome when I lived there with my parents."
"Its nice to meet you, sir," they both said and made a hasty exit.
"Teens!!" Rita chuckled. "No wonder I have gray hair."
Frank eyed Rita carefully. He hoped he wasn't wrong, and if he were, he would apologize profusely. He had seen her hand shake when he mentioned the portrait, and he knew, deep down after seeing the child up close, he was right. He settled deeper into the chair and spoke softly. "Tell me about my daughter, Rita."
Rita looked deeply into his eyes. She couldn't lie to him – not Frank.
"We made love several times without precautions, and one of those times we created our daughter. I found out that I was pregnant when I came back from Florence. But you were gone. No call. No letter. Nothing. I had no other choice but to have our baby. Daddy helped me get back to the United States and I stayed with his only sister in St. Louis.
He could see the tears brimming in her eyes and knew how hard this was for her, but at this moment he didn't give a damn. He was angry that she had kept his daughter from him.
I had our daughter all alone except for Aunt Jeanne. I stayed in St. Louis because the war was beginning and Washington, D. C was not a place for a young woman with a baby. During the war I did a lot of volunteering with the USO and the Red Cross. Aunt Jeanne would watch Frankie and I got out of the house for a few hours. Toward the end of the war I met Mike. He was a liaison with the Army Air Corps based in St. Louis. He stayed with the new Air Force when it was formed. We were married shortly after WWII ended. But then the Korean War started and as a Lieutenant Colonel, he headed up a squadron. He was killed in a raid about two months before I saw you at that reception. It was just over three months ago and I mourn him deeply. He was gone for almost two years except for a few days leave here and there and the ten days leave when I got to fly to Hawaii and we had almost a second honeymoon.
But you want to know about Frankie. What can I say? She looks so much like you, Frank, and she is so smart. The top of her class and just like you, she has an ear for languages. She loves science and math too. I think she will probably go to one of the top colleges –maybe even to Harvard like my father or to Yale like Grandfather Russell. But she has my temper and there are times when she can be a real handful."
Rita dabbed at her eyes with a napkin and gave Frank a shaky smile.
"She has your physical attributes Frank, but she has more of you."
"Oh?" he questioned. "Tell me."
