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“So it has nothing to do with making you jealous?” he asks with a smirk.
I shrug as I pull out of his driveway. “Technically, it began in middle school. But that’s a longer story.”
“We’ve got time. Mass doesn’t start for ten minutes.”
“Not sure this story’s fit for church,” I mumble, and he barks out a laugh.
“Then it’s exactly the kind you should be telling. Except God and Father Conrad are the ones who need to hear it.”
I roll my eyes. “You would say that.”
Truthfully, I can’t even remember the last time I participated in the sacrament of reconciliation, at least a decade ago? I’d have to go behind a screen if I confessed now. I can’t imagine the look on the priest’s face while I subjected him to my comings and goings over the past twelve years or so. Besides, I may not be much of a churchgoer or even a decent Catholic, but my parents made sure JD and I were well catechized. And I know I’d need to actually feel contrite for my sins and vow to avoid committing them again in order to receive absolution, so there’s no point in wasting anyone’s time. I’m only here now because JD’s insisted on us attending and offering a Mass for our parents’ birthdays and anniversaries since they’ve passed away.
“Stop pretending you don’t care,” he says dryly, bringing me back from my thoughts. “You wouldn’t be sneaking off to church at six in the morning if you weren’t worried about your soul.”
I blink away my surprise, because my brother isn’t usually this bold with his attempts at evangelization. Persistent, sure—but not confrontational. “I’m not here for my own soul,” I retort after a while.
“And I’m not stupid enough to believe you don’t think you’re at least saving Mom’s,” he holds as I turn into the parking lot. “Or that a man of your intelligence doesn’t recognize the truth for what it is. You’re just pretending to live in denial because it’s more comfortable there.”
I huff, because he’s wrong. It’s not comfortable here at all.
“If you say so, kid. Then again, maybe I’m just here so I don’t get fined,” I reply, turning to smirk at him as I put the truck in park.
His lips twitch, but he points a finger at me. “That’s borderline sacrilegious. You’re lucky it’s funny.”
I smile to myself as I close my truck door, and we walk into church together. I’m plotting on one of the back pews when JD waltzes up to the front, greeting people along the way as if he owns the place. Naturally, he slides into the third pew from the altar, and I reluctantly genuflect and fall in behind him. He kneels to pray for a minute while I sit back.
“Didn’t Tenley want to come this morning?” I whisper once he’s done.
“She offered, but the morning sickness makes it tough for her right now. Besides, I thought this was our thing.”
Then the bell rings, and everyone stands as the priest walks in, and I’m left to consider those words for the rest of the Mass.
We stop to chat with a few of the older Camellians on our way to the parking lot. Some of them offer prayers on our mom’s behalf, and one of her former book club friends mentions how nice it is to see both of the Bourgeois brothers in church today.
“What a perfect birthday gift for your mama,” Mrs. Prejean declares. I detect JD’s satisfied smile from the corner of my eye.
“All right,” he starts once we’re back in the truck, “before you tell me the rest of that story, I’ve got something important to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“How do you feel about going to Mass more regularly?”
I cock an eyebrow. “The same as I did before this morning,” I fib. “Why?”
“Tenley and I were hoping you’d be willing to be our baby’sParrain.”
An instant warmth fills my chest. I guess I hadn’t expected them to consider me, especially with Ethan in the picture. JD’s beaming with pride when I glance over at him.
I clear the unexpected emotion from my throat. “I’d be honored. But I’m not sure I’m fit to be a godfather.”
He furrows his brow. “What makes you think that?”
“Probably the constant reminders from you and everyone else that I’m not exactly father material,” I blurt out.
His shoulders slump, and he’s quiet for a second. “I’m sorry, man. You’re right, I have been doing that, but I never meant to make you feel like you’re not good enough to be a father or have a family. I guess I thought I was steering you down the right path, although in hindsight, it seems pretty judgmental of me to criticize you and your life choices. Hypocritical, too.”
I swallow hard. How the heck am I supposed to respond now? JD’s nagging has been one of the only things I could hold against him, and this apology is already turning into another example of how much better he is than me.
