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Father John’s evening was going fairly well after a very busy day at the church. He’d had two baptisms, a funeral, and an hour of hearing confessions along with the 8am mass.
To say he was a bit tired would be like to say his junior year of high school was a bit rough, or Florida was only a bit hot in the summer.
After finishing paperwork in the parish office and finally making his way over to the rectory, he ate dinner and said the liturgy of the hours(his prayers interrupted periodically buy the crashing of thunder from the storm that had blown in) and was now lounging on the small couch in the living room and reading a book.
Normally, father John shared the rectory with a brother priest, but he was away with the middle school youth group on a retreat, so after such a long day it was nice to have it to himself. He expected to spend the rest of the night with maybe the occasional phone call from the hospital about patient spiritual care and visits, but other than that be free to read his book in peace.
What he was not expecting was for his doorbell to ring at 9:53 at night, followed by several sharp knocks. After all, it was pouring rain outside and thunder rumbled and cracked several times a minute. Who would visit right now?
Father John closed his book and stood, making his way over to the front door. He swung it open to reveal a sobbing, shaking, soaking Mariam.
Mariam had begun school at a local university, so she was still a regular attendee at masses. She’d stayed true to her agreement of coming to him to talk whenever she needed, showing up in his office on several occasions. She’d even managed to go nearly three months so far without cutting herself. But this was new.
Mariam’s clothes were soaked from the storm and clung to her body. Locks of her long deep brown hair stuck to her face messily, and despite being completely drenched, tears were clearly making their way down her cheeks.
For a moment, both parties stood still, just looking at each other. Then Mariam let out a sob and practically lunged at father John, wrapping her arms around him and crying into his chest.
“Woah, hey, Mariam, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” He asked, concern obvious in his voice.
Mariam didn’t answer and just continued sobbing violently into his arms. Father John’s cassock was quickly becoming soaked from holding Mariam, but he wasn’t especially concerned about that at the moment.
He held her for a few more moments before pushing her away slightly to pull her inside the rectory. Once she was inside and in better lighting, he could make out the shape of a small bruise blossoming on her cheek.
Father John reached out and cupped her face, examining her.
“Mariam,” he started again, “what happened?”
Mariam sniffled a few times before managing a response.
“I…I told a friend I didn’t want to date him, and this morning a customer at work screamed at me in front of a bunch of people, and then I accidentally deleted an essay for my English composition class that was halfway done so now I have to start over again, and- and-“ she let out several sobs, falling back into father John’s arms.
“I’ve just had a really bad day.” She whimpered out.
“Sounds like it….” Father John replied. He stood there in the rectory entrance hallway for a few minutes, just holding her and affirming her pain in an effort to make her feel at least a bit better.
It seemed to work a little, her sobs lessening and reducing to occasional sniffles as she stayed curled up in his arms with her head tucked under his chin. Father John figured it would be best to get her-well, both of them now, really- out of their wet clothes so they could speak more comfortably.
He gently pushed her away a few inches, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Mariam, do you want to go dry off and change? I can grab some dry clothes from the donation box and make hot chocolate while you change.”
Mariam looked up at him sadly before nodding and following him as he led her to the bathroom, stopping at the linen closet to giver her a few towels before grabbing a shirt and sweatpants from the clothes donation box for her and setting them on the bathroom counter.
“Feel free to shower if you’d like, I’ll be out here if you need anything.” Father John stated. Mariam nodded and he stepped forward and kissed her temple before turning and leaving her in the bathroom. He then made a beeline for his bedroom to change into dry clothes.
It was getting late anyway, and contrary to popular belief, priests did not sleep in their cassocks, so he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt not dissimilar to what he’d given Mariam. As he passed the bathroom he heard the shower running, so he had a bit more time to get the hot chocolate made for them.
A few minutes later the drinks were made and Mariam emerged from the bathroom, still damp from the shower, but no longer cold. Father John looked up at her from the couch where he’d returned to his reading from earlier as she approached and picked up a cup of hot chocolate and took a sip.
“Feel better?” He asked, setting the book down and patting the space next to him for her to sit. She nodded and settled into the couch beside him.
“A bit better physically. My head doesn’t hurt anymore, but that was probably just from the crying.” She said, a faint breeze of humor in her words.
“That’s good to hear. How about emotionally?”
Mariam gave him a side glance, sipping more of her drink before responding.
“About the same as earlier, but not as….intense, if that makes sense. It’s like when soda goes flat; it still tastes pretty much the same, but it isn’t trying to bite the inside of your mouth anymore.”
“I will truly never understand your affinity for flat soda.” Father John stated with a slight shake of his head. Mariam scoffed and rolled her eyes slightly, setting her now empty mug down.
“That’s not the point. The point is, I feel more….stable, I think. Like, I’m still not great, but I’m better than earlier.” She explained. Father John nodded understandingly.
“That’s good to hear. You….you are welcome to stay here tonight if you’d like.”
Mariam raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Is that even allowed?”
“Technically….probably not, but I’m concerned about you. I’d much rather have you here and know that you’re safe and doing better than not know how you are.”
Mariam smile and rested her head on Father John’s shoulder. “Thank you. That would help a lot, even if it’s just not being alone.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Mariam resting her eyes and curling up against father John’s side while he sipped his mug of hot chocolate and ran his hand through Mariam’s damp hair.
“Mariam?” He asked. She cracked an eye open and made a noise of acknowledgment.
“How did you get that mark on your cheek?” Father John asked gently.
Mariam tensed up against his side a little bit and curled closer before responding.
“I was…one of my friends and I were talking, and then the topic shifted to relationships. He tried to ask me out but I said no…I didn’t tell him it was because I’m not interested in men, but he kept trying to get me to say yes. When I told him to stop he said….he said all the other guys who were friends with me also only wanted to sleep with me….I tried to walk away but he grabbed me and when I pushed him away…..” Mariam trailed off and gestured to her cheek.
“Did he hit you?” Father John asked, concern evident in his voice. Mariam nodded shamefully.
“Maybe if I’d just said yes, just to a date, he wouldn’t have done it and I could still be friends with him…..” She whispered.
Father John’s pulled her closer against himself and reached to gently tilt her face toward his so she was looking at him.
“Mariam, that wasn’t your fault. If you had gone on a date with him, he might’ve tried to pressure you into more. You said no and he responded the wrong way. You did nothing wrong.”
Mariam was silent as he spoke, her lip trembling slightly like she was about to cry again.
“But….what if it’s true?” She asked, voice small.
“What if what’s true?”
“What if all my other male friends only hang out with me because….because they want to sleep with me? How do I fix that?”
Her tone conveyed the confusion and concern she felt. While she didn’t want to lose a large chinch of her friends, she also didn’t want to be around people who only stayed for the impossible possibility of a chance to use her body.
Father John sighed. “I can’t tell you if that’s true or not. But judging by the people you tend to attract and who you enjoy being around, they don’t stay around you because they want a physical relationship with you.”
“But my friend who tried to ask me out did….”
“And his ego was bruised when you declined, so he wanted to make you feel like you don’t have a genuine connection with any other man.”
Mariam looked up at father John with wide eyes, the way a doe looks at an oncoming car. “You’re a man…and I have a genuine connection with you…” A smirk pulled at Mariam’s lips before she spoke again, “He must’ve forgotten about that vow of chastity you took at ordination.”
Father John chuckled, ruffling her hair, “Yes, but even without it, to see someone only for what you can get from them, be physically, emotionally, financially, or anything else is just….empty. It’s next to impossible to form genuine and meaningful relationships with others when all you’re concerned about is how much the other person can benefit you.”
“Animals are so much better than people….” Mariam muttered, “if they hurt you, it’s usually be abuse you did something wrong. People will hurt you for fun.”
Father John sighed at her words, knowing she learned that from personal experience in her short but painful life. “But even they understand connection past what one can provide them. A dog will still listen to and defend its owner, even if they are too poor to feed them.”
Mariam nodded, “They’re so much easier to be around….they’re so simple to understand and respond to, and they don’t really hide things the way people do….people can make things worse, even when they mean to help.”
Father John went quiet for a few moments, considering his next words. Mariam could have gone anywhere for comfort and safety tonight, but she chose the rectory.
“Why did you come here? You could’ve done back to your dorm and talked with your roommate about this, or gone home and spoken with your parents….why the rectory?” He asked.
“Because I knew you’d be here. You don’t make things hurt more. My parents…..they can be helpful, but usually it stings more than it’s worth. My roommate can relate to me, but she’s a bit….chatty shall we say. I love her, but I know she’ll just be focused on the dramatic aspects of it. But you…..”
Mariam looked up at father John’s face, tilting her head inquisitively, “It doesn’t feel costly to talk to you. Your advice and comfort and presence feel free. I just….I knew it wouldn’t hurt me more to be with you….I knew you wouldn’t make it worse the way others might’ve.”
Father John looked down at her with such affection he didn’t know what to do. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, tucking her head under his chin and burying his nose in her hair.
To know she felt so incredibly safe with him was….beautiful. That she didn’t see him as a threat in any sense, and believed without a doubt that he would never hurt her. It made him tear up a bit as he thought about it. This girl had been nearly to hell and back, just within her own mind and not even considering outside events that had happened, and she’d come to trust him completely.
“Thank you, sweetheart. You…you have no idea what that means to me…” His voice broke on the last few words. He pressed a few kisses to her forehead and temples and ran his fingers through her soft hair, just savoring the moment and Mariam’s presence.
They both went quiet, so comfortable in the space they’d created with each other. The storm continued to rage outside, but the constant thunder didn’t stop Mariam from dozing off in father John’s arms. He didn’t even notice until he looked down to ask her a question and noticed her eyes shut and mouth slightly open in a way he knew she wouldn’t be caught dead doing awake.
He sighed and adjusted both of them so they were laying down as opposed to sitting up on the couch and pulled a blanked over them both. Mariam stayed cuddled against Father John’s chest and he continued to play with her hair.
In joining the priesthood, he came to accept never having children of his own. But Mariam, with all her problems and baggage and pain, came to be a daughter he loved and cherished as if she were his own. And as long as she needed, he would always be there for her.