Emily and the Priest Read Online Free PDF

podium there were two prominent statues, one of Mary holding a baby Jesus, the other of Jesus on the cross. There were a few other minor statues as well, and one on the left that caught Emily’s eye particularly.
    “Yes.” Father Mark smiled as she let go of his hand, wandering over to the statue, tall and graceful, a beautiful woman even though her eyes were painted black and two trails, like dark tears, flowed down her cheeks. “This is what I came here to show you.”
    “ Poor Lucy.” Emily touched the statue’s grey cheek, tracing the saint’s lovely tears.
    “She c an see, even though she’s blind.” Father Mark spoke in hushed tones. “ God has given her special sight. She can see things others can’t. Her name means light, you know.”
    “Does it?” She felt his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently, and she trembled at his touch.
    “I don’t ever want you to hide your light under a basket, Emily.” His kiss fell on the top of her head, along her hairline. “Let it shine. Like St. Lucy.”
    She sighed, leaning back against him. “You make me feel so good.”
    “The feeling is very mutual.” His arms went around her waist and they stood there like that in the multicolored pattern ed late afternoon light coming in through the stained glass windows above, neither of them wanting to break the hushed spell. It was the sound of the carnival that reached them—the faint clang of a bell and the roar of people. Someone had clearly won the strongman game and the crowd approved.
    “I’d better get you back.” Father Mark took her hand and led her down the podium steps.
    Emily walked slowly, not wanting their time together to end. “Your great-great-great grandfather really helped build this place?”
    “ My great-great grandfather was also a preacher. But my grandfather was a rebel. He split from his family, and the Baptists, and converted to Catholicism. He left his family to become a priest.”
    Emily stared at him. “He left his family?”
    “Yes. My father was a baby at the time.” Father Mark ran his hand along the back of one of the polished pews as they hesitated at the back of the chapel. “He grew up hating the church. He’s an atheist still. We don’t speak.”
    “He didn’t want you to become a priest?” Emily was beginning to understand his earlier comments about his father.
    “No.”
    “Why did you?”
    “Honestly? ” Father Mark led her out the same door they’d come in through, turning to lock it behind him. “ Someone broke my heart a long time ago, and I thought I could never love anyone else. The priesthood seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, becoming a priest was a direct rebellion against my father.”
    She watched him pocket the key , feeling slightly jealous of that long, lost love . “Do you think Catholic priests will ever be allowed to marry?”
    “Technically, it’s possible. It’s Canon Law, not dogma, so the law could be changed. Some day. But I don’t think so, Emily. Not in my lifetime. Not in our lifetime.”
    He turned toward her, taking her into his arms. It was so easy, and felt so right. If this was a sin, she decided, tha n she would burn in hell.
    “Do you really love me?” She lifted her face to his, searching his eyes for the truth, and finding it. She traced the cross she had placed on his cheek, like a brand.
    “I do.” His lips were warm, his words mumbled. “God help me, I do.”
    “What are we going to do?” She put her head on his chest.
    “I don’t know. ” His sigh was felt more than heard, his hand moving softly through her hair. “ What do you want to do?”
    “I want to love you.” Her arms tightened around him . “Even God can’t stop love.”
    He lifted her chin, his gaze falling to her mouth. “I don’t think he wants to.”
    They kissed, hungry for each other, sealing the promise of their love under a fading, dusky apricot sky, far too distracted to really notice the movement and flash at the edge of