Page 80 of Blame it on the Bet
“Uh…about five years ago.”
“Hennessy, child, a person doesn’t steal that kind of money from that many people and walk away five years later with a thriving business.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I remain silent. He tries another tack.
“Where did you get this information, anyway?”
“Jonathan Pettit. The loan trustee. He recognized Bryan from when it was in the news and in the papers. He said he thought I should know what kind of a man he was.”
“Okay…so, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” he says gently. “The man whose job it is to sell this place if you default on the loan—the one who gets a commission of the selling price if he does—he’s the one who told you Bryan Truitt?—”
“Broadmore,” I correct him.
“Fine, fine…Broadmore. He’s the one who told you that Bryan is trying to swindle you. Is that right, Hennessy? Have I got that right?”
Father Romance’s tone is kind and gentle, but his words feel hard to me, and I’m taken aback by how much it stings. I nod dumbly.
“Jameson, would you please give Hennessy and me a moment alone?” he asks, and she nods, silently going back to the office.
I clear my throat awkwardly and look down at the bar.
Dammit! Why am I the one who feels embarrassed and ashamed? I didn’t do anything wrong.
Father Romance pats the stool next to him. “Come here, my dear.”
I do as he says, walking around to the other side of the bar and taking a seat by his side.
“Tell me, Hennessy, do you recall your First Corinthians, chapter thirteen, verse seven?”
The popular verse comes immediately to my mind and my tongue.
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things,” I recite.
“Exactly,” Father Romance affirms with a kindly smile. “When the Bible tells us that love believes all things, it isn’t implying that love is gullible or ignorant. It means that if we love, we see the best in others. We do not think the worst. Do you understand, child? Love will not be deceived, yet it will always give the benefit of the doubt.”
I shake my head, my mind awash in confusion and conflicting emotions. Love. He keeps talking about love…
“You’re saying I should’ve listened to what he had to say,” I whisper at last.
“I am,” he agrees with a nod. “Or, rather, our Lord is saying you should’ve listened to what he had to say. Because there’s also Luke six, Henny. ‘Judge not, lest ye be judged.’”
I suck in my breath involuntarily. He’s right. I passed judgment on someone—someone I’d come to care about. Someone I’d come to maybe love…just a little.
“Have you prayed about all this?” he asks, his voice soft and kind in response to my clear anguish.
“Yes, Father,” I whisper. “Yes, I have. But God doesn’t seem to hear my prayers.” My voice breaks as the tears finally come. The tears that I’ve been holding back since I returned to Mayhem. The priest reaches across the distance between us and puts his large hand on my shoulder.
“Look at me,” he directs me, and I can’t disobey him. In this light, his eyes are black and shiny, like onyx. They pull me in, and somehow he’s able to calm and comfort me with just his expression. “The Lord always hears your prayers, Hennessy. But not every prayer is answered because not every prayer is His will. So, now you pray for God’s will to be done. You pray that Bryan will be blessed and guided, same as you. You pray that whoever ends up with this bar—whatever it becomes—that it will help bring the people of this community together.”
These last words send a fresh wave of sobs to heave and shake my body. Father Romance puts his hand to my cheek and wipes the tears with his thumb, the way my father used to do when I was a child.
“It’s all going to be all right, Hennessy. I promise you. Put your faith in God, and He will take care of you. Always, always, always.”
I jump to my feet and wrap my arms around my longtime confidant, spiritual advisor, and friend, reveling in the feel of strong warm hands patting my back with comfort and love.
And I pray.
Chapter Thirty-Four
