If I hadn't known that the father wasn't one for passive-aggressive questions, I would've thought he was fishing around because Nori had called him. Instead, I knew he was just curious.
“Fine.” I kept my answer vague. Father O'Toole knew that I didn't believe the same things he did, and that I definitely didn't lead a celibate life, but I sure as hell didn't want to tell him about what Nori and I had been doing. Those details would likely give the poor man a heart attack.
“You look like you're feeling better.”
Tactful, yes. Tentative, no.
“I am,” I admitted. “Nori said my bandages would all be off within the next week or so, and PT is going well.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And before you ask, yes, I have been doing my exercises even when Kipp isn't here.”
A pleased smile curved the priest's lips. “Excellent. I was right then, to bring her here.”
I raised an eyebrow as I reached across the table and snagged a grape from the bowl. “Careful, there, Father. Pride's a sin.” I popped the fruit into my mouth.
His eyes shone. “Do you know how long I've been praying to hear you make one of your smart-aleck comments?”
I looked away, feeling ashamed again. This time, however, it wasn't because of Nori, but rather the father. He'd saved my life, taken care of me, been the only family I had left. I'd known these past few months hadn't been easy on him, but there was a difference between knowing it and facing it directly.
“Hey.” He reached across the table and put his hand over mine. “You've been through a lot, kid. Don't feel guilty for taking time to get your head together.”
“It's still not completely together,” I admitted and glanced at him. “But I'm not at that place anymore.”
I knew I didn't have to clarify. He knew exactly what I meant.
“Good.” He pulled his hand back and reached for the cereal. “Since Miss Prinz hasn't contacted me about leaving at the end of the week, I'm hoping that means she's planning to stay permanently.”
“I won't need a nurse much longer,” I said, trying to keep my voice flat. “I doubt she'll want to stay on just to do the housework and cook. She'll probably leave when I don't need her anymore.”
I'd always need her, I knew that now, but it wasn't in a way she'd want.
The priest's eyes narrowed, and I mentally cursed myself for forgetting how observant he was.
“You care about her.”
I considered lying, but I'd been trying so hard to figure out what to do, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to ask for advice. “I do.”
Father O'Toole grinned at me as he poured milk onto his bran flakes. “It's about time.”
I blinked. Okay, not the reaction I'd expected. “What?”
The father shook his head, giving me that amused expression that he reserved for when I was being particularly thick-headed. “I knew she wasn't simply getting through to you because she was kind. I know you, kid. You've been falling for her almost from moment one.”
How the hell had he figured it out before me? I stared at him.
“Why do you think she was the one I called?”
“But she's my nurse.” I wasn't sure why that was the first thing I thought of.
The priest's smile widened. “Not exactly. The ethics of the thing might be a bit...murky, but you're both consenting adults.” He winked at me. “You know I don't condone that sort of behavior, but if it gets you out of that state you were in, I'm all for it.”
“But she...” Shit. My peaceful breakfast with Father O'Toole was quickly turning into something way too complex for first thing in the morning. “I mean, it's not like she feels the same way.”
“How do you know?” Father O'Toole asked. “Have you talked to her?”
“Hell no!” I flushed. “Sorry.”
He sprinkled some blueberries onto his cereal and took another bite. “Why not?”
“Why not what?” I asked. My food sat in front of me, but I wasn't hungry anymore.
“Why haven't you talked to her? How else are you supposed to know what she's thinking?”
“You're seriously going to give me romantic advice?”
“I'm giving you advice that's applicable to all relationships, including the romantic kind,” he countered. “Assumptions don't do anyone any good. You need to talk to her, tell her that you care about her, and give her the opportunity to decide for herself what she wants.”
My chest tightened as I shook my head. “I can't do that. If she knows, she'll leave, and I'd rather have her here and not knowing, then knowing and back in Texas.”
“But what if she feels the same way?” The father's voice was gentle.