Am I allowed to use "y'all" if I'm not a southerner? I hope so.
Anyway. What you will read below may very well be The Next Great American Novel. Or simply literary genius.
Not.
But to give you a little background, Annabelle is a bookshop owner living in a small, New England town. When a seminarian comes to study at her local Catholic church, she finds herself instantly attracted to him.
Think modern-day Scarlet Letter.
Enjoy! :)
Oh, and I apologize for any weird formatting errors. Blogger apparently felt like being difficult.
-*-
That evening, I enjoyed one of my favorite parts about being single.
I gleefully turned on my television to TLC for a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress and set out a feast of Indian food across my coffee table. After mixing myself a gin and tonic, I snuggled deep into my worn sofa and proceeded to eat my glorious takeout and be a total slob while watching mindless TV.
“No way! That’s so tacky!” I exclaimed as a bride decided upon a wedding dress with a translucent corset. “It’s your wedding day! You’re not supposed to look slutty.”
I may have a bad habit of talking out loud to myself. I blame this on living alone, not on my mental health.
My phone buzzed on the floor beside me with a text message.
Whoa! Saw your priest at the grocery today. Total hottie!
Oh, God. That was so Margot. The last thing I needed to be thinking about while watching a show about wedding dresses was John Rodriguez.
He is also getting ready to promise his life to God. Stop eye molesting him. It’s a sin.
It’s not a sin just to look!
I beg to differ, Margot. In Catholicism it is.
Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined him carrying you off into a sunset. Shirtless. Obviously.
Stop being weird.
Stop being a prude.
-*-
“You’re looking much better this morning, Annabelle. Healthier, better-rested, less tearful…”
“Yep. I get it, Brian. Thanks.” I set my morning coffee down on the counter and looked around the shop. The door had already been unlocked, the lights were turned on, and it looked like Brian had just swept the hardwood floors. “If you weren’t so good at your job, I’d fire you for damaging my self confidence, you know.”
“What? I said you looked better today!”
“Implying that I looked disastrous yesterday.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “I was well aware of that actually.”
“Fair enough.” Brian walked towards the front window and looked towards the sky. “We’re supposed to be getting some pretty heavy storms today.”
I grinned, “We get to spend a rainy, fall day in a bookshop reading and drinking tea. Maybe even having occasional witty conversation.”
“God.” Brian shuddered dramatically. “Our lives suck.”
The morning passed by with most of our usual customers dropping in. Mr. Gordon bought his third book on the art of brewing his own beer. Patty Kleckner spent an obscene amount of time in the Self-Help section (as usual) before venturing over to the Cooking shelf and purchasing a Paula Dean recipe book (also as usual). Hattie O’Brien came in to flirt with Brian during her break from the coffee shop across the street, just as she did every day of the workweek.
“Hi.” She said shyly, gently placing a steaming mug on the front counter in front of Brian. Her chestnut hair was frizzy from the rain and matted against her head. “Caramel latte, heavy on the whip.”
Brian brought the mug up to his nose, the steam fogging up his thick glasses. He nodded graciously, “Mmm. Thanks so much, Hattie. You really shouldn’t have.”
“It’s no big deal, really.” She smiled, her freckled cheeks practically glowing. “How’s your day been?”
“It’s been nice! How about yours? Has the rain slowed down traffic over there?”
Hattie sighed good-naturedly, “Hardly! I think this weather has more people craving their hot coffee.”
“Well, don’t work too hard then,” he said, his voice softer than usual.
Hattie nodded and with a timid wave, headed back to the coffee shop.
“She’s sweet,” I remarked, searching through a back cabinet for a rag I could dust with.
“Yep.” Brian responded vaguely, as he did after every morning’s Hattie encounter.
Where was that box of old rags I put back here? I could have sworn I placed them in this cabinet! I hiked up my skirt and gently lowered myself to the ground on my stocking-covered knees before sticking my head inside.
“Where are those damn rags?” I called to Brian, an annoyed edge to my voice as my hand ran through a cobweb. Eck.
“Annabelle?”
My head involuntarily shot up at the sound of his voice, connecting with the top of the cabinet and producing a surprisingly loud thud.
“Shit!” I swore in front of a future priest, rubbing my head. “I mean, shoot! Shoot that hurt!”
John Rodriguez was sitting beside me in seconds, alarm in his eyes.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry to have startled you like that!” his voice was apologetic, worried. “Can I see your head?”
“It’s not your fault. I’m fine!” I feigned an air of indifference. “No big!”
“No, really, let me see.” He gently moved aside my hands and placed his own tanned hand on the top of my head. “Oh, man. I think you’re going to have a pretty big knot. I am so, so sorry.”
I looked at John Rodriguez in absolute wonder as he continued to massage the top of my head, unable to think of anything remotely clever or even normal to say to him.
“Annabelle? Everything okay back here?” Brian was suddenly standing above us, looking impressively tall from my current location on the floor. He eyed John Rodriguez suspiciously. “Do you know this man? What happened? Why are you on the floor like that?”
“Yes! Brian, this is John Rodriguez. He is in the seminary and studying under Father Michael. Over at St. Rita’s.” I made a gesture in the general direction of my local Catholic church. “And I hit my head inside the cupboard. Looking for a rag.”
“Okay then…” Brian stared at me and John Rodriguez, clearly still feeling a bit puzzled. “Um, nice to meet you, Mr. Rodriguez…I mean, Father? Father Rodriguez…?”
“John. You can just call me John. It’s nice to meet you, Brian.” The seminarian said kindly, taking his hand off my head and extending it towards Brian. “I’m sorry for almost having caused your boss a concussion like that. Terrible first impression.”
Brian softened, “It’s a shame you didn’t knock her out. I’m next in line to take over this place, you know.”
The two men laughed. I sat on the floor stupidly.
“Why don’t we get you to a couch or something, Annabelle?” John Rodriguez focused his glorious attention back towards me. “I think you should lie down. Do you have any ice, Brian?”
“Let’s get Annabelle upstairs. We just have arm chairs down here, but there’s a sofa in her apartment and plenty of ice, I’m sure.”
“You guys, stop it,” I rolled my eyes, finally snapping back into the current situation at hand. “I don’t need to lie down, and I’ll be fine without ice.”
“I really think you ought to lie down and ice your head at least for a moment.” John Rodriguez’s eyes looked directly into my own, and I am fairly certain that if there were ice already on top of my damaged head, it would have melted.
“Uh, okay.”
“Let me help you get to your feet.” Without a moment’s pause, John Rodriguez swiftly looped his arms beneath mine and lifted me to a standing position. “Is that okay? Do you need to hold on to my arm as we walk upstairs?”
“Yes, yes I think that would be best.” I replied dreamily.
“Allow me to lead the way.” Brian looked amused as he motioned John Rodriguez to follow him up the stairs to my apartment.
I held John Rodriguez’s upper arm, rubbing my fingertips around his toned muscle.
What was I doing rubbing his arm? Was I crazy?
Quickly, I disentangled myself from him, almost toppling down the stairs in the process.
“Whoa, there! Everything okay, Annabelle?”
“Oops! Y-yes. Just a bit dizzy, I guess.” How many times would I manage to lie to this man of God? Was I trying to set a world record of most fibs to a religious person?
Brian looked at me curiously.
“Wow, really? You have really got to lie down then.” John Rodriguez gripped me tighter for the remaining stairs before gallantly helping me lie down on my own couch. “I’ll go get you some ice.”
“Oh! Um, I actually used up all of my ice the other night. For a strawberry daiquiri.” I murmured in embarrassment. Brian snorted. “But I think there is a bag of frozen corn in there. Behind the Häagen-Dasz. And the chicken tenders.”
Could this be anymore humiliating?
The front door bell chimed downstairs, indicating a customer’s arrival.
“You can go on down. I’ll take care of Annabelle.” John Rodriguez looked at Brian.
“Are you sure? She is a handful…” Brian looked me over warily before winking at John Rodriguez.
Oh, so hilarious, Brian.
John Rodriguez smirked, “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
Brian retreated downstairs, and John Rodriguez began to rummage through my freezer until he pulled out the notorious bag of frozen corn. Carefully, he wrapped it in a clean dishtowel.
Instead of setting it on my head, he sat on the floor beside me and held the corn against my head himself.
“This would all be awfully romantic if there wasn’t a bag of corn on my head, and you weren’t a seminarian.” I blushed crimson. Did I just say that out loud? Maybe I did have some brain damage!
John Rodriguez laughed, “I apologize that this corn is not ice, and that I am far from being Mr. Darcy.”
“Nice Austen reference.”
“I am currently caring for the owner of Bingley Books. I thought it was appropriate.” His eyes gleamed playfully.
I smiled at him, “I really am alright now, John. Thank you for getting me upstairs and everything, but I think I’ll be okay on my own now.”
John Rodriguez slowly moved the bag of corn aside and felt my head.
“I’m not leaving until that bump stops growing.” He said gravely.
“It’s still growing?” I failed to hide my horror at the idea of a huge lump growing off the top of my head.
“Yes, but I imagine it will stop soon.” His voice was calm, peaceful. He was really going to make a good priest.
I looked down at my legs and subconsciously pulled my skirt down over my knees. I glanced over at John Rodriguez who had also diverted his attention to my legs. He caught my stare and blushed.
“So, when did you become so good at taking care of people?” I attempted normalcy, a daunting task for someone as totally weird as myself.
“My mom is a nurse. When I was three and still living in Madrid, I was hit by a scooter while playing outside. My shirt got caught on some part of his bike, and I was dragged for a while until he realized what had happened. Obviously, I was pretty badly banged up after the ordeal. My mom told me she had never felt so helpless as she did in that moment, and that’s when she decided to go back to school and become a nurse.” John Rodriguez looked somber but proud. He gracefully balanced the corn on my head before rolling up his shirtsleeve and showing me a long, dark scar on his forearm. “This is just one of the remaining marks from it.”
“Oh, John! That’s awful! I’m so sorry.”
“I can hardly remember it. But everything happens for a reason. I turned out just fine, and my mom became a nurse because of the accident. Think of how many people she’s helped since. Sort of crazy the way things work out, isn’t it?” Moving his hand back up to the bag of corn, he tilted his head at me, seeming to study every detail of my face.
“I don’t know if everything happens for a reason,” I said noncommittally, wanting to tell John Rodriguez how I think that saying is total shit.
He looked at me even closer before murmuring, “Who hurt you, Annabelle?”
“Annabelle! Hello! I heard you hit your head!” Margot’s voice preceded the sound of her light footsteps coming up the stairs. “It’s me! Your beloved friend, Margaret Anne Gardner! I hope you don’t have amnesia because-”
John Rodriguez and I both jumped. The bag of corn fell off my head just as Margot reached us.
“-we would have a lot of Glee episodes to catch up on.” She looked in disbelief between the two of us. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you had company! I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m-“
“Margaret Anne Gardner, Annabelle’s beloved friend,” John Rodriguez smirked. “I’m John Rodriguez.”
Margot smirked right back at him. I could tell she appreciated John Rodriguez’s humor.
“You must be new around here, John. What brings you to Winchester?” Margot lied effortlessly. “And why are you up here with a bag of corn and my best friend?”
“Margot!” I laughed nervously when all I really wanted to do was scream at her.
John Rodriguez was able to chuckle though. “Annabelle hit her head downstairs. I’m just playing nurse now.”
Margot’s eyes widened. Her mind had gone there, and mine was unfortunately following closely behind.
“I’m staying over at St. Rita’s for the year. I’m in the seminary and studying under Father Michael.”
“Oh! I see. That’s great! An entire year with us here in Winchester…” Margot trailed off. She sucked on her bottom lip, an indication that she was deep in thought. “What are you doing for dinner this Friday? My husband and I are hosting a few friends for a late supper, and we’d all love to have you join.”
John Rodriguez nodded, “That’s so kind of you. I’d love to come. You’ll be there too, right, Annabelle?”
“Uh, yes.” I looked in amazement between Margot and John Rodriguez. “Yes, I’m bringing dessert.”
Um, I'm going to need you to finish this pronto because now I'm dying to know what happens! I think you have the beginnings of a great book right here!
ReplyDeleteIt is so good! I can't wait to read more!
ReplyDelete