Fuck.
Eleanor half walked, half ran down the hall toward the shadow. But when she reached the end, she saw no one and nothing. Being in love with a priest had made her paranoid. Who would give a damn about her enough to follow her around anyway? No one.
She thought about telling Søren she’d seen a shadow if only for the excuse to talk to him again. Through his office door, she heard his phone ring, heard him answer it. He spoke too quietly for her to make out the words, however, so she returned to the sanctuary.
Eleanor opened the doors and put the stoppers down in the hope that cooler air would start to circulate.
She found her bucket again and got on her knees as she dipped the rag into the pine-scented water. She’d only done about two square feet of cleaning when she heard footsteps echoing off the floor. Søren had apparently not tortured her enough for the day. Fine. Round two.
“If you come in here I’m going to make you clean,” she said, glaring at him. She expected a smile or a laugh but no. Søren wore the strangest expression on his face.
He sat down in the pew behind her and gazed upon the crucifix behind the altar.
“Søren?” Eleanor knelt backward on the pew in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. My father is dead.”
Eleanor’s hands went numb.
“Oh, my God. What happened?”
Søren shook his head. “I don’t know. My sister Elizabeth is coming here tonight to talk.”
“Are you okay?” She wanted to take his hand but although he sat only inches from her, he seemed too far away to reach.
“I am …” He paused for a long time. “I am ashamed of how happy I am that man is dead.”
Eleanor didn’t know what to say so she said the only thing she hadn’t said to him yet.
“I love you.”
Søren tore his gaze from the crucifix to her.
“Thank you,” he said. “I needed to hear that.”
Thank you? Better than “no, you don’t,” but not quite as good as “I love you, too.” Still, she was glad she’d said something right for once.
“There is a visitation Saturday, the funeral on Sunday. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“I’ll come with you?” she repeated, not sure she’d heard him correctly.
“Can you? Please?”
Søren sounded so humble with his quiet “please” that she would have handed him her own heart if he’d asked for it.
“I will. Yes. Definitely.”
“Good. We’ll leave tomorrow evening once you’re out of school. Kingsley can send a car. Pack for two nights.”
“Where are we going?”
“New Hampshire, to my father’s house.”
“That’s not going to seem sort of suspicious? A priest bringing a date to the funeral?”
“My youngest sister is about your age. I’m sure she’ll come. You can stay with her.”
“Sure. Of course.” Eleanor’s head spun. She and Søren were going away to New Hampshire for the entire weekend. He wanted her to meet his little sister and attend his father’s funeral with him. When she woke up this morning she hadn’t suspected her entire life would change by the end of the day. Apparently God didn’t like to give out any warnings on that sort of thing.
“You can go home. You need to pack. And I need to make some phone calls.”
“Can I do anything for you? Help with anything?”
“You help me by existing. And I promise, I’m fine. In some shock, but I assure you, this is good news.”
If anyone else had heard him call his father’s death “good news” they might have balked. But Eleanor wouldn’t mind if her own father fell off the face of the earth. She could hardly blame Søren.
“So what do we do?”
“Come by the rectory tomorrow. We’ll leave from there.”
“You mean I’m allowed in the rectory tomorrow?”
“Eleanor, the reason I made you stay away from me for so long is so you could grow up and be ready for the things I need to tell you. Are you ready now?”
“I’ve been ready for you since the day we met.”
Søren took her hand in his and pressed the back of it first to his heart and then to his naked throat, before kissing her knuckles.
A man had died.
She smiled all the way home.
Eleanor packed that night as ordered. She’d been to a few funerals in her day. Grandparents, one random great-uncle she didn’t remember. She’d gone with Jordan to her aunt’s funeral. But this was different. She had no right, no business going to Søren’s father’s funeral. She couldn’t begin to think of a single rational way to explain her presence at her priest’s dad’s house. She would have to get creative.