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Avery tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, and I wish it were me doing it.
“Great, do you want to get us two seats at the bar? I’m going to pop by Father Greg’s office on my way out.”
“Yeah, that works; see you there,” she replies.
Avery gathers up her belongings and leaves me alone in my office.
I let out a long sigh of relief.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
Thank fucking God she said yes. To this friend… hang out session? I don’t even fucking know what people call it anymore, but I can get excited a friend said yes to a drink. This is what people who are friends do.
Picking up my bag, I discard a water bottle in my recycle bin and lock up before making my way to Greg’s office.
Earlier this afternoon I found a note he must have left me the day before. Something about needing to take off Sunday altogether and basically demanding that I perform the first Mass on Sunday in addition to the later one.
Getting closer, I realize his door is closed.
“He’s been in there for over an hour with someone not on his calendar,” Patricia scoffs from her desk without facing me.
“Really? You don’t know who it is?”
That’s surprising. Nothing happens in this parish without Patricia knowing about it.
She snorts.
“I’ve been waiting for him to wrap up so I can leave. He needs some documents mailed,” she says, still without turning to face me.
Patricia clicks away on her computer.
If she has been waiting this long, I can’t wait around for him to come out. I just sent Avery to save us seats; I don’t want to worry her that I won’t show up.
“Right, well, I’ll just catch him in the morning. If you do speak to him, can you let him know I’ll do both Masses this Sunday? He left me a note, and I just found it.”
“Sure thing,” Patricia replies, still clicking away on her computer.
A short walk later, I find myself at Jackson’s, staring at Avery with a glass of champagne and a whiskey, sitting in front of the open barstool by her side.
“I see those wheels churning,” I say to Avery as I come up to claim my rightful seat.
She’s deep in thought. I know something is going on by the way her brows furrow together as she stares at her drink.
“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I’ve just been in another world lately with everything going on. You must be tired of me always in my head,” she quickly shares with a half laugh.
“I could never be tired of you.”
Her breath hitches in surprise.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” I grin at her before sipping my whiskey.
It’s perfect timing as the bartender comes by at that moment, interrupting our stare-down. Avery asks for another glass of champagne before turning her full attention back to me.
“Everything okay when you left?” Avery asks, attempting to change the subject.
“Great. I didn’t get to meet with Father Greg, but Patricia made it clear she wasn’t going to stop her day to speak with me much,” I respond with a laugh.
