My name is Sloane Kennedy McLean. I come from a strict Catholic family. We live in a small town near Mt. Hood. There wasn't much to do growing up and I didn't have much in the way of friends and so I was always tagging along after my brothers. We grew up spending most of our time hiking in the backwoods.
My brother's and I were endowed with tempers and wits to match my father's. My father, although stern, wanted us to be able to be ourselves. We kids were always very well behaved in public, never stepped out of line. Because of this, my father allowed us to have free reign at home, and boy did we.
I was the little sister, the only girl of seven children. Most of my brothers were all grown up and done with school. Finnegan Jr., the eldest, was twenty-eight. He was followed by Brennen, who was twenty-six and then, at twenty-five, Lennon. These three hated school and when my father told them there was plenty of money for them to go to college they refused. They asked dad for the money they would have received for school and started their own business. It wasn't a surprise when they opened an Irish pub. To my father's amazement they are doing very well.
Sullivan, at twenty-three, attends the local community college and is majoring in criminal justice. Then there is Regan and Rhyan both at nineteen. No one in my family, except for me, ever knew which was which because the boys never told the truth.
My father, Finnegan, and my mother, Tiegan, were born and raised in Ireland but moved us to the states when my brother Finn was a year old. My father works for the Roman Catholic Church. I was never quite sure how he got transferred to the States let alone Oregon state.
The twins weren't too keen on school, a family trait, and were held back a year in junior high. Because of this we were in the same class but that didn't mean anything. We attended a Catholic school and genders were kept separate except for mass every day and so I rarely saw my brothers. There were times when we could socialize between classes but we were closely monitored by the nuns.
"Sloane, you are making us late. Hurry up!"
"Sorry dad, I slept in."
My father stopped his truck in front of the church and turned a smile on me. "Another day in the grind, hey kids?" My brothers laughed.
"Yeah, living the American dream." My father and I had a close relationship, I was his only girl and it was no secret that I was his favorite. My brothers didn't care; they always said they felt the same towards me. Mom and I were the jewels of the family according to the boys; I looked like a smaller version of my mom. My brother's, except for Finn, were all dark like my father, with bright blue eyes. Finn was the exception; he and I shared my mother's emerald eyes and auburn hair.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and merged with the steady flow of kids filtering into the church. I could hear my brothers ogling girls that went by. I inwardly laughed at their open vulgarity.
Rhyan gave me a hug before he and Regan left to go sit in their usual pew with their friends. I went directly to the front and sat behind the nuns. I was considered the goody two shoes of the school. I found this odd considering the nuns hated me. Despite them I was the top student. My pew was usually left empty except for two other girls that were ostracized and Jess. Jess was the only person at Sacred Heart that I would bother spending time with.
We had mass every day, alternating between before and after lessons. There was a buzz in the air because old Father Patrick was finally turning everything over to Father McKinnon.
McKinnon was a younger priest from Ireland; he was around thirty years old. He had intimidating ice blue eyes that almost seemed gray at times. Well, I thought he was intimidating, anyway. That didn't stop him from entering my fantasies like all the other girls at school. I admit I wasn't as gushy about it as the other girls but I did harbor lustful thoughts for the priest. His dark features, blue eyes, and Irish accent must have seemed comforting to me considering my family.
Father McKinnon always left me feeling a little uneasy though; my heart always started fluttering when I was near him. We have confession on Friday and I had to confess to Father McKinnon for the first time last week. I had only ever confessed to Father Patrick before and so I was fairly closed mouth. Because of this Father McKinnon requested that I confess every day after mass.
"Not to worry. It'll just be 'till you become comfortable confessing your sins to the Holy Father."
"I'm not confessing to the Holy Father, I'm confessing to you. Isn't it natural to be uncomfortable?"
He shook his head. "I'm not asking for a debate, Miss MacLean."
Everyone stood and I was brought out of my head. When I finally stood, the procession was just passing and Father McKinnon's eyes locked on mine for a moment and then he smiled.
Father McKinnon made his way to the altar and faced us. His eyes met mine and locked there instead of scanning past. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."
The crowd responded with the sign of the cross and collective "Amen". I failed to do either as my discomfort grew.
"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all."
Oh crap, he was doing a long mass. There was a cumulative sigh of premature boredom before everyone responded, "Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ."
I simply said, "and also with you."
Father McKinnon was still looking at me and I saw the corner of his mouth twitch again with amusement at my shortened response. I tuned out much of mass and was only brought back to the priest's words when I caught him staring at me again.
"Oh, man, those eyes. He keeps looking this way. Do you think he's looking at me?" Jessica was staring at Father McKinnon with wide adoring eyes but she spoke to me.
"Sure, I guess." I wasn't committed with my response and Jess turned to look at me.
"You've been weird lately, ever since Friday's confession."
I didn't say anything. I was weird because after confession Father McKinnon told me he wanted me to come after every mass to confess. This wasn't something normally done and I felt singled out.
He was still staring. "Lord, we have sinned against you. Lord, have mercy."
"Lord, have mercy." I recited with the group.
"Lord, show us your mercy and love."
We all responded, "Grant us your salvation."
"May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life."
Again he looked at me and the "Amen" was lost on my lips.
"God, he is so hot. I wish he wouldn't wear his robe thingy all the time, though. I saw Father Patrick wearing pants and a black shirt this Saturday at the store, why doesn't Father McKinnon?"
"The robe thingy is called a soutane, Jess, and I guess Father McKinnon is just old school."
"Must be because he's from Ireland. McKinnon looks hot in the soutane, though, so it's all good. I had a meeting with him last Thursday about an English paper I wrote. His accent gets even stronger when he talks to you one on one."
"I know." I don't know why I said that but Jess shot me a knowing look before turning back to stare at Father McKinnon. I started to recite the prayer with everyone. "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth. Lord God, heavenly King, almighty God and Father, we worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for..." I trailed off, totally uncommitted.
The rest of mass was a blur. I barely paid attention to the readings. Father McKinnon spoke of growing our relationships with God and the usual stuff. Everyone got up and left after mass, everyone except for me. I waited for Father McKinnon to come back out. He was now out of the ceremonial robes and in his soutane. The church was quiet and his feet echoed through the cathedral hall. He motioned for me with his hand and I got up and walked over to him.
