grace master

8/14/2019 Grace Master

1/79

Title: Grace

Author: StephRating: R

Character: Dr. Anthony Girardeau

Disclaimer: The following story has been written with no intention of claiming ownershipor solicitation, nor does the author claim the movie character(s) as his/her own. The

movie character(s) have been borrowed solely out of a love of the particular movie and is

not intended for any other purpose but amusement and entertainment.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Part One

"But mamma, what if Santa comes while we're here? You said if I wasn't in bed...."

"Santa will know that you are in church."

The little girl voicing her concern dug her patent leather shoe into the snow, refusing tomove forward until her fears were appeased. "But mama-"

Dr. Anthony Girardeau turned his head slightly to the right, glancing at the woman besidehim to see if she had caught the exchange. Her smile revealed that she had.


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"I'd better get you back early too..." Anthony said in a whisper. "You won't get any

presents if you aren't asleep."

Stephanie Bailey spread her lips into a grin."I don't think that Santa is bringing me

anything this year." she answered, "I haven't been a very good girl..."

Better than you think. The doctor thought to himself, trying to ignore the nervousness that

churned in his stomach and concentrate on negotiating his way through the throng of

parishioners moving toward the church.

He swallowed hard, as he thought about the present waiting for Stephanie beneath his

tree at the Clinic, wondering if he would have the courage to give it to her tonight. It's too

soon...He worried. Biting his lip, he slipped his hand into hers. The easy familiarity withwhich her fingers blended with his own reminded him again of how magical the past four

weeks have been. Or maybe its not...

"The building is really incredible...I didn't get a good look when we were in town to seethe lights. "

The sound of the woman's voice brought Anthony's attention back from his thoughts.

"What?"

"The church...the decorations." Stephanie gestured toward the paper luminaries that linedthe sidewalk to the front steps, and the boughs of evergreen and holly that adorned the

churchyard wall. "It's like a Christmas Card with the snow."

Anthony nodded his head absently, drawing Stephanie closer as they reached the line to

enter the building. He crossed in front of her, purposefully placing the woman between

himself and the priests who were greeting the congregation inside the door. Maybe theycould slip past...

He was a minute too late.

"Good evening Anthony." The Doctor froze almost guiltily as the pastor's voice reached

his ears. The tone was warm and even, but the doctor could not prevent the grimace that

formed automatically on his lips. Was the minister trying to be ironic? Insinuatingsomething? It's all in your head. Anthony soothed himself, but to no avail. In spite of the

calm, unquestioning manner with which he had always been treated, the doctor could not

escape the feeling that, behind their cool eyes, the priests here were judging him. Theyhad to know about Girardeau's former vocation. They would have read it the file when

the doctor transferred into the parish. What must they think of me? Anthony chastised

himself for allowing the question. Why do I even care?

"And this is Miss...?" The assistant priest, asked brightly. Once again, Anthony stiffened.

I didn't concern them if he chose to bring a date.


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"Bailey." Stephanie supplied, seemingly oblivious to her escort's sudden tension. She

smiled at the man, noting that he was even younger than Anthony."Merry Christmas,

Father." She said sweetly, then, noting that their pause was creating a traffic jam, tuggedon Anthony's hand to lead him inside. She paused beside him at the baptismal as he made

the sign of the cross, and then turned to peer into the main hall of the church. "Where do

we sit?" She asked as her eyes roamed the crowded room.

"Wherever we can find a seat."

"Are we supposed to do anything before we sit down?"

Anthony frowned, not understanding the question.

"Cross ourselves or...kneel?" The woman looked around purposefully, trying to find

someone's behavior to copy. Anthony knew that Stephanie's mother had taken her to

church every Sunday for the first eighteen years of her life but she had been raised

Pentecostal. From the expression on her face, he could see that she felt completely out ofher depth.

"You don't have to." He said quietly, steering her to a seat along the left wall. "- and I

promise that nothing happens if you don't get it right...." She was worried about

embarrassing him. He placed a light peck on her cheek to let her know that he

appreciated her efforts. "Besides, I'd bet that actual Catholics are in the minority tonight."

The statement drew a look of relief.

"Thank you for bringing me with you." Stephanie whispered as they slid into a pew.

"Thank you for agreeing to come." Anthony squeezed her hand tenderly, swallowing therest of his words. Because I couldn't do this alone... Not tonight.

Anthony toyed with his tie, wishing there was some way to hold back the flood ofmemories that had threatened to overwhelm him since they had stepped inside the

sanctuary. I wonder who is standing in my place at Holy Family tonight... ? This church

was so like the one in costal Maine at Christmas: the same red tapered candles in every

window, the same scent of cinnamon in the air... I wonder if Mrs. Eaton had another babythis year....Charlotte is nearly two now, would she remember me? Only last year it was

Anthony standing in a doorway, greeting parishioners.

A year? It had to be more. It was another world. Another life-

A life that he was trying to forget.

"...For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him

should not perish but have eternal life...This is the gospel of the Lord."


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"Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ."

Stephanie mumbled the response along with the rest of the congregation, then sat downagain. Her eyes remained respectfully on the priest, even though it was a struggle not to

turn them toward Anthony.

"Our presence in this church is itself an act of faith, a profession of belief in God's

promise...We have made our way here as the shepherds made their way to Bethlehem so

that as they, we too might look upon the Christchild, the Word made Flesh, the allpowerful God who for us has become a tiny infant..."

What was he thinking? Stephanie found it hard to concentrate on the words of the homily.

The doctor had been acting edgy all night. Was something wrong? Had she displeasedhim in some way, or was he simply concentrating on the service?

"...God reveals Himself in the humility of a baby. His beauty and splendor shine from this

Child and we learn that God does not force His glory upon us. He invites us gently togaze upon this Child and believe His promise..."

She was in love with him. He was in love with her- she knew the truth even if he had

never spoken the words, but he did not belong to her completely. Here, within the walls

of the church, was a part of Anthony that she had never seen, a part that he had never

offered to show- a part that she was half-afraid to question...

"...The manner in which God reveals Himself is the pattern of our own lives for in Him

we

live and move and have our being. God's Son was born in a traveler's inn so that we

might learn from His example that we are travelers on this earth and that our homeland isin heaven.... "

She tried to imagine Anthony in the somber robes of the pastor, his gentle voice carryingthrough the night.

"...The Son of God was put in a manager. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes that we

might be content and satisfied to have just enough to cover us. The worst that we mightdo is to remain indifferent before this Child, full of grace and truth...."

Her Anthony- but not really hers at all- God's Anthony, surrendered to a cause above hislove for a woman. Sacrificed for it. Broken.

"The Son of God was put in a manager. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes that we

might be content and satisfied to have just enough to cover us. The worst that we might

do is to remain indifferent before this Child, full of grace and truth...."


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Stephanie let the words of the priest melt in to incognizance as her eyes drifted around

the church,

drinking in the hushed beauty of the night. The lights had been dimmed, but the yellow

tongues of candles burning in the windows and at the altar illuminated the room. The

gently wavering pinpricks of light were like a starscape reflected in the hardwoodpaneling of the walls and floor, and in the smooth brass pipes of the organ. In the semi-

darkness, the colors of the pine boughs and poinsettia that decked the room were muted,

but their heavy scent permeated the air. It was so lovely here....so peaceful...

"Let us pray...."

Stephanie's eyes jerked forward once more as the worshipers began to speak as one, herunpracticed lips stumbling over the words of the prayer. It had been so long since she had

spoken them-so long since she had been to church even for Christmas Eve.

"...He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead..."

She turned to Anthony at last, seeking guidance as the prayer progressed beyond thewords she knew. Stephanie frowned to find that the man's lips were still. He was staring

forward, his eyes resting on the priest, but looking through him in the wavering shadow

of the cross that the candlelight had cast against the wall. His stare was distant and

unfixed, focused on something that Stephanie couldn't see- a ghost- or the shade of amemory from long ago. She shivered as a sense of foreboding dripped along her spine.

What did they do to you, Anthony?

When would she ever know?

Stephanie leaned drowsily against Anthony's shoulder as the truck wound the final curve

into the Point. The snow had begun to fall again, covering the road with a fine white

powder.

"Can we stop at the Clinic before I take you back?" Anthony's voice broke the stillness of

the night. "I want to give you your present..."

The woman smiled, at the suggestion. The physician had been silent since they left the

church. He seemed lost in the same trance that had gripped him during the Mass, and not

knowing his thoughts had troubled her.

"I'd like that, Anthony." She said quietly, trying to banish the sleepiness from her voice.

"-But I left your gift in my room. I thought that we were going to exchange them

tomorrow at the party."

"That's alright." The man said gently, lifting his hand from the gearshift and lightly


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patting her hand. "I'd just rather give you this one in private."

At last, the Clinic came into view. It had snowed harder at the Point than in the outsideworld, and the drive leading up to the building was blanketed in a layer of white. The

doctor found the road by memory. The heavy tires of the truck crunched solidly over the

gravel until they finally came to a stop directly in front of the medical facility.

Anthony shifted the vehicle into park, and then came around to lift Stephanie from the

cab. "Careful." He murmured, maintaining his grip around her waist as they walked to thedoor. "The steps are icy."

"I'm fine." The woman insisted, but secretly pleased at the excuse for physical contact.

The doctor's grip tightened into a quick hug. "Well, with your ankles, I don't want to take

any chances."

After fumbling for a moment to find the right key, the door to the clinic slid open, and thepair slipped inside, welcoming the rush of heat that met them at the door. Stephanie stood

in the dim hallway while her companion checked his answering machine for messages,then followed him through the door that led to his apartment.

Stephanie was struck by the difference between the appearance of Anthony's kitchen this

evening, and the way that it had been a mere month ago. The sterility of the space- onceas pronounced as in the Clinic proper- had been softened by the thousand tiny touches

that the frequent presence of a woman had inadvertently carried with it. Stephanie hadn't

set out to transform the apartment. She had learned long ago the dangers of insinuatingoneself too quickly or too deeply into a man's life, but the "I had two canopeners and

thought you could use one", "I found these pictures in my basement and didn't have

anywhere to hang them", and "these curtains were on sale and I knew that you didn't haveany." had gradually accumulated, so that the dwelling was slowly transforming into a

home.

In the far corner of the room was one of Anthony's newest acquisitions: A weary, but

serviceable artificial Christmas tree, rescued from the basement of the Inn. Stephanie

grinned to recall the Saturday afternoon, that she and the doctor had spent draping the

tree with surgical gauze and ornaments that they had fashioned from paperclips,aluminum foil, and string. The homemade trinkets were so different from the delicate

Belleek china, Waterford crystal, and Radko glass ornaments that hung on her tree at

home- but they were more precious than the expensive baubles because of the memoriesthat they represented.

The doctor walked toward the tree, and Stephanie noticed, for the first time, the packagethat was sitting beneath it. The physician retrieved it gesturing her into the living room.

The woman and the doctor sat side by side on the couch. Stephanie tried not to appear too

curious about the present. She could tell, from the heavy, embossed wrapping paper and


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velvet bow that the gift had come from an expensive boutique. It didn't matter, of course,

how much he had spent, but it was still a thrill- and it pleased her to know that he was

willing to go to so much trouble.

"I didn't want to give you this with everyone standing around." He mumbled, the box

sitting in his lap as though the doctor still hadn't decided whether or not he was willing tohand it over. "I mean...this may seem a bit soon and....if you don't like it....."

Too soon. The lawyer swallowed, trying not to let her imagination run away with her.Anthony had been awfully preoccupied tonight, had he really been thinking of asking

her...? No! She refused to let the flight of fancy carry her away. There was no sense

getting worked up before she knew what the present was.

"I'm sure that I'll love it." The woman reassured him, looking at the doctor expectantly

until he handed her the gift.

The blue velvet ribbon slid away easily, and Stephanie lifted away the top, parting thetissue paper only to discover another box.

A blue box.

From Tiffany's.

Stephanie's heart was hammering in her chest as she lifted it up, removing the smaller lid,

and extracting the velvet case that it contained.

What would she say? It was soon. He was right - this was unexpected- but she was so

sure that she loved him. You were sure before... She reminded herself sadly...but Anthony

is different. He would never hurt you. He would never go away.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Anthony's voice was almost as breathless with anticipation

as her own, and she nodded her head quickly.

"Of course."

Yes. I'm going to say yes. Trembling hands eased open the box.

Stephanie blinked.

Earrings.

It was earrings.

The woman released her breath slowly. "Oh, Anthony. They're beautiful." She said

quickly. They were exquisite:: sterling sliver and gold, twisted together around a single

pearl.


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"It isn't too much?" He seemed genuinely concerned. Stephanie shook her head, blinking

her eyes rapidly even as she berated herself for the disappointed tears that the action heldat bay. "They're perfect." They were appropriate- the perfect gift for a man to get a

woman that he had been dating for a month.

"I want to try them on." Thank God for law school. The Kentuckian's mouth had retained

its ability to keep talking even in the absence of thought. She took a few deep breaths,

calming herself as she removed the gold hoops that she usually wore and fastened thenew earrings into place.

"How do I look?"

Anthony smiled sweetly, leaning forward to run his fingertip along the ridge of her ear.

"Beautiful, as always-surely you don't think that my earrings could ruin that?"

Stephanie warmed to the teasing, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his forehead,

admitting to herself that an engagement ring wasn't really what she wanted. She hadrushed into a marriage before. It wasn't commitment she craved- it was reassurance. In

spite of Anthony's tenderness- or perhaps because of it- she still wasn't sure how he really

felt about her. There were moments- like this evening at church- that he seemed so far

away. He was new to everything. She understood that she had to be patient- but thatrealization did nothing to quell her fears.

The doctor accepted her friendly caress, and then turned his green eyes toward theceiling. "Look! A mistletoe!" He said in mock-surprise. Stephanie laughed, her doubts

melting as she felt his warm arms thread around her waist, and draw her tightly against

his chest.

The first brush of his lips against hers was like a whisper- a cool brush of soft skin

against her own- but the second touch was more pronounced. His left hand traced the lineof her ear again, and then traveled along her jaw and under her chin, lifting it to draw her

mouth more fully against his own. His other hand rested briefly against her neck. Then,

easing her forward so that her weight was against his body, it trailed downward along her

spine to the small of her back.

Making a sound of approval, Stephanie slid her own arms into place- one beneath his

shoulder, and the other settled lightly on his hip. She spread her lips beneath the doctor'sown, inviting him to taste her more deeply. The offer was accepted, the moist heat of his

tongue invading her almost instantly and she closed her eyes to brace against the quick

stab of longing that pulsed through her core. Anthony worked in slow, deliberate strokes,unwittingly mimicking the object of her craving. His hand moved along her back in

synchronization with the rhythm and then, as she twisted in his arms, slid along her belly,

aggravating the furious longing that churned beneath her skin.


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Don't rush. Don't rush. Don't rush. Stephanie fought the urge to seize his hand and draw it

to her aching sex. She needed him. Every touch made her desire more fevered- but she

knew that Anthony was offering nothing more than a kiss. It wasn't time to press him formore, in spite of how badly she wanted to.

The doctor released her mouth, and moved his kisses along her jawbone, making a trailalong the soft plane of skin until he reached the hollow beneath her ear. He lingered there,

nuzzling the indentation tenderly, before parting his lips to draw her earlobe into his

mouth.

Stephanie groaned as she felt him suckle the tender skin and again as the muscle of his

tongue slowly circle the new earring with its wet tip. The hand on Anthony's hip clenched

in frustration. How could he maintain such damnable control?

At last, Anthony's mouth drew away from her ear, and she sat up, letting his hands slide

down along her sides, his fingertips trailing over the ridges of her ribs, then up again, as

close to her breasts as he dared.

Touch them... Her nerves cried out against his restraint. Even without his contact, theywere on fire. Her nipples strained against the slick satin of her bra. Take me...

The doctor could resist, but she could not. Ignoring the self-admonition of restraint, the

hand that had settled on his hip moved forward, grazing the front of his pants.

He was hard.

A growl of equal parts triumph and fear formed in the back of her neck as she lightly

caressed the bulge of his erection. At last she knew that she was not alone in her

longing...Her strokes grew firmer, and she was gratified when his hips rolled forward toreceive the pleasure, then crushed with disappointment when he finally pulled away.

"Stop!" Anthony's plea was breathless but firm. "Stop..." He slid from beneath her,gasping as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry..." Stephanie began timidly, but the doctor patted her knee to dismiss the

apology.

"It's okay..." He panted. " I just.. got a little carried away."

"I did."

"We both did." Anthony reassured her with another kiss, and then rose unsteadily to hisfeet. "It's getting late."

Stephanie bit her lip in frustration. "Yes." she acknowledged reluctantly. "I have to be up

early tomorrow to help with dinner." Moving to a stand, she arranged her clothes and


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looked around to collect her belongings. "My purse is in the kitchen..."

Anthony nodded his head, still looking flushed and addled- and grateful for a temporaryescape. "Go and get it. I'll bring the truck around back to get you."

Stephanie walked back to the eating area, retrieving her bag and donning her coat. Shestepped toward the door to wait ,frowning as her eyes noticed an envelope taped to the

screen. It was plain yellow manila- the sort that Michelle used to file receipts at the Inn.

Scribbled across it in the proprietress's handwriting was a brief note: "Received today.Looked Important so I brought it down."

The rumbling engine of the truck caused Stephanie to look up. Debating for just a

moment, she plucked the paper off the door and then raced off the deck into the snow.

"Did you see this, Anthony?" She said as she climbed into the seat beside him. She

offered the envelope for inspection. "It was taped to the back door." The doctor shifted

the truck to neutral, then scanned 'chelle's words.

"I must have missed it since we came in through the front." He murmured as he openedthe package. A smaller envelope slid onto his lap.

The lighting in the truck was dim, but Stephanie could make out the dark script of the

return address. "The Josephinium." It said in bold, archaic looking print. Curious,Stephanie squinted over Anthony's shoulder to scan the rest of the envelope. "Father

Anthony Girardeau. Personal and Confidential. Return address requested. Please open

immediately."

The Josephinium- wasn't that where Anthony had gone to seminary? Stephanie felt a

shiver of foreboding as she waited for the doctor to read the letter. Her brows knit whenhis hands remained still.

"Anthony?" She asked quietly.

The doctor didn't answer. He tucked the letter above the sunvisor and shifted the truck

roughly into gear.

"It's late." Anthony mumbled at last. "We have to get you home."

Part Two

Anthony's hand hesitated in midair above the door to Stephanie's room. She had been

exhausted when he had dropped her off, and it was still insanely early. He should eitherleave her a message about where he had gone or wait until she woke up on her own- but

in his heart, Anthony knew that neither proposition was an option. He couldn't leave

without telling her goodbye- and he didn't have the time to wait until morning. He had

wasted enough of that precious commodity already.


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It had to be now.

Anthony knocked lightly, leaning his ear against the door for any sound of movement

within the room. Hearing none, he rapped louder.

"Stephanie?"

At last, he heard the groan of mattress springs, and the padding of footsteps across ahardwood floor. The doctor stepped back as the lock was drawn back, and the door was

pulled open as far as the security chain would allow.

"Anthony?" Stephanie's voice was heavy with sleep. Her pale grey eyes took in hisappearance and then flashed with concern. "Are you alright?"

Before he could answer, the door snapped shut, reopening a second later with the chain

removed to let him inside. "Has something happened? Is someone hurt?"

"Everyone is fine." Anthony said quietly. "At least, everyone here." He took a deepbreath, looking nervously at his hands. "I came to tell you goodbye?"

"Goodbye?" The word hung in the air between then, seeming to echo in the stillness. "I...

I don't understand."

Anthony opened his mouth, his words rushing forward like an un-dammed stream. "I

have to go. I have to see... someone in Columbus. A friend."

"On Christmas?"

"Christmas?" The doctor had almost forgotten. After realizing her meaning, he continued.

"Yes. Today. Now." Agitation was evident in his voice. "I spoke with NJ on the phone.

She and Mannie are going to come down after breakfast so that she can watch the clinic.Dr. Gussler in town is on call if there's an emergency, I don't know if she'll understand

this place, but...."

"Anthony?" Stephanie interjected, her features still twisted in confusion. "Why?" Sherubbed her eyes, looking suddenly helpless and lost. "Is this about the letter?"

The doctor bowed his head, nodding after a pause. "Yes. It came from... the seminary inOhio." He stopped speaking for a moment, as if the revelation had been difficult to

muster, and he needed a moment to gather his strength. He chose his words carefully.

"A... friend- a dear friend- is very ill. He's dying, and he asked for me. I have to go... Ipromised."

"But... today?"


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"Immediately." Anthony's tone was unwavering. "They- the school- tried to reach me in

Maine but...." His face fell ashen. "But I wasn't there." His mouth remained open for a

moment, as if he had more to say, but thought better of it.

"Do you even know that he's still alive?" Stephanie asked tentatively.

The doctor nodded. "Yes. I called the hospital this morning. He's weak, but conscious. If I

hurry..."

Stephanie nodded her head, finally seeming to understand the situation. "You're going

alone?"

His jaw twitched. "I have to go alone."

"No, Anthony, you don't." Her grey eyes met his evenly.

"I..."

"Don't." Stephanie blinked as though she were surprised with the forcefulness of her ownvoice. "Don't tell me 'no'. You're in no state to drive- and I promise to stay out of the

way." She took one of his hands in both of her own. "Please."

Anthony sighed heavily, looking at the clock, and then over his shoulder at the door.

Thank you for agreeing to come with me... Because I couldn't do this alone... not

tonight... His thoughts and words from a few hours before returned to his mind. It wasgoing to be a long journey. Perhaps he didn't have to make all of it alone.

"Alright." He said at last. "But we have to hurry..."

Stephanie regained consciousness slowly, her senses awaking one by one. First, her ears

focused on the steady thrum of the windshield wipers and the *shusshh* of melted snowbeneath the wheels. She noticed that the surface her head rested against was soft and

warm, but firmer than the pillows of her bed. It was scented faintly of... Drakkar? Her

eyes opened slowly.

She was in the passenger seat of the Maxima, her head leaned against Anthony, and a

winter coat draped over her shoulders like a blanket. She had been asleep. What time was

it? Without moving her head, the woman's eyes turned to the clock in the center of thedashboard. 8:43... They had been driving for nearly five hours.

"Anthony?" Stephanie sat up slowly, grimacing at the stiffness in her neck from resting atsuch an awkward angle. The man's eyes flickered briefly to the side, acknowledging that

she was awake, but nothing more. "Merry Christmas." She said brightly, but her features

fell as the comment drew only a distracted pat on the knee.


13/79

Frowning, the woman turned to peer outside the window, her eyes drifting over the dreary

piles of dirty snow pushed into banks on either side of the road. What was she doing

here? The memories of the night before returned in a rush, a sense of nervousnessgrowing as she recalled their destination. She should be at the Point, opening presents...

or at home in Kentucky fixing breakfast before church.Stephanie sighed. No, that wasn't

right. She should be here, with Anthony- only it shouldn't be like this. His expressionreminded her eerily of the one that he had worn in the church- vacant and serious, his

attention fixed on something far away. But on what?

They continued in silence for half an hour, before Anthony finally spoke. "There's a sign

for a rest area. Do you want some coffee? I don't think that there's going to be any place

else to stop..."

Stephanie nodded her head, grateful for the chance to go to the restroom and stretch her

legs. She rummaged a brush and lipstick out of her purse, trying to put some order to her

appearance as the doctor eased the car onto the exit ramp.

The stop was deserted, and from the thin layer of snow that coated the parking lot, it was

clear that they were the first travellers who been there for hours. Even the commercialtrucks were gone. Pulling on her coat, Stephanie went to the ladies room, pausing in front

of the mirror to apply some fresh cosmetics and clip her hair into a casual updo before

returning to the car. She lingered in the lobby to consult the highway map that hung on

the wall. The "You are Here" sticker indicated that they were just outside Pittsburgh.There was still a long way to go.

I wonder what they're doing at the Point right now? Stephanie smiled wearily as shethought of the presents that she had tucked beneath the tree in the main hall, wishing that

she could see the faces when they unwrapped them.On an impulse, she took her cell

phone out of her purse and dialed the front desk. After a dozen rings, she was about togive up, and was in the process of flipping the phone closed when she head a familiar

voice ask "Hello?"

Stephanie concentrated for a moment, trying to place the voice. Finally, she answered.

"Lisa?"

There was another pause, this time from the other end of the phone. "Stephanie?" thevoice said at last. The Kentuckian could hear the puzzlement in the other woman's voice.

"Where are you?"

Stephanie's grey eyes drifted back to the map. "In Western Pennsylvania."

Lisa's breath hitched a little in surprise. "We thought you were sleeping in...."

"Well, that's what I was intending to do." She peered through the windows as she made

her explanation. "Something came up. Anthony's had to go to Columbus, Ohio and I've

come with him."


14/79

"Ohio?" Lisa echoed. "Where did the Point let you out?"

"Philadelphia."

The unspoken "oh" in the woman's voice only aggravated the attorney's sense of unease.It was... peculiar. Usually the Point magic worked so that a person's destination was only

a few hours away. It had been as close for her to go to Scotland with Lady in search of

Kaz when Terry was injured as it had been to drive from Ashland the week before. Butthis time things had been different. They had emerged only a couple hundred miles from

the seaside Connecticut village where she and Anthony had attended Mass- with their

destination still a hard day's drive away...

It was as if they weren't supposed to go.

Stephanie tried to shake off her apprehension, nodding into the receiver. "I don't know

how long we'll be gone. One of his friends is very ill... he's spoken with NJ and a doctorin town, so there's coverage for the Clinic..." Stephanie's voice trailed off.

"Did you need something?" Lisa asked plaintively.

"No." Just the sound of a friendly voice. "I just didn't want anyone to worry... tell Tina for

me, will you?"

"Sure thing... Steph?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Stephanie swallowed, "I'm fine, just tired." And Anthony has me worried sick... "Tell

everyone that we said Merry Christmas."

"I will."

"Goodbye."

Stephanie closed the phone and hurried back outside. Anthony was already in the driver's

seat again, the motor purring like a cat. The woman tapped on the window. "You want meto drive for a bit?" She asked when he opened the door.

"I'm fine."

"You're exhausted." Stephanie was firm. "Try to take a nap, or at least rest your eyes. You

may not get a chance when we get there."


15/79

Reluctant, but cognizant of the truth in her words, the Doctor moved to the passenger's

seat. Stephanie slid behind the wheel and closed the door. Sitting in the driver's position

of her own car made her feel instantly more at ease. She flicked on the seat warmers,turned on the wipers, and moved back onto the road.

"Can you tell me who we..." She chewed her lip before rephrasing. "Who you are goingto see?"

"Father Hardesty." Anthony replied.

"And he is...?"

"A teacher at the seminary." The words were polite, but pointedly brief. Anthony didn'twant to talk about it.

Fine... Stephanie had used all of her courage to invite herself along. She would let the

matter drop for now.

Using the controls on her steering wheel, she turned on the radio and scanned to a stationplaying Christmas songs. If she had been alone, she would have been singing aloud, but

in the circumstances she merely hummed them in her head, tapping her fingers against

the steering wheel in time. Anthony had bought her a coffee and a packet of powdered

donuts. She ate her breakfast eagerly, grateful for the rush of sugar and caffeine.

It wasn't too long before a low buzzing sound caught her attention. Turning her head she

found that, despite his protests, the doctor had in fact fallen asleep.

At the border with West Virginia, the weather began to break, and by the time they

crossed back into Ohio, it had stopped entirely. Coming out of the Mountains, theinterstate was surrounded by endless plains blanketed in white. Overhead, the sun was

trying to peek through the clouds, its rays almost blinding where they sparkled on the

snow.

From a distance, Stephanie could occasionally see little towns and farmhouses, smoke

was curling cheerily from the chimneys and snowman-building children frolicked in the

fields. The terrain began to look familiar. Without looking at a map, Stephanie knew thatshe was no more than a hundred miles from Kentucky. On the exit signs she recognized

towns she had visited in the past. This was where, unknowingly, the couple's lives had

first overlapped.

They were getting close. Stephanie debated whether she should wake Anthony or let him

sleep. She knew how to find the Josephinium on her own. She had travelled U.S. 23 toMichigan a hundred times - and the towering brown-brick spires of the college had

always marked the midpoint of the journey- but perhaps he needed time to prepare.

Glancing over at his exhausted features, the woman chose the former course of action.

She didn't have the heart to wake him now. She had a sense that, no matter what the


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outcome of his visit with Father Hardesty, Anthony would not find sleep easily that night.

It was better to leave him in peace while she could.

The final hundred miles passed quickly, and at last the lawyer made the turn onto the

campus. She didn't have any idea which building they were going to, so she drove to the

church parking lot and pulled into a space.

Removing her seatbelt, she twisted in her chair for a final look at Anthony. He seemed so

peaceful and content that she hated what she had to do. Leaning forward, she planted alight kiss on his cheek.

"Anthony..." She said softly, tenderly smoothing his hair away from his face. "Anthony..."

She kissed him again as the jade green eyes opened, stroking his cheek as he fought amoment of disorientation. "Wake up, Anthony- we're here."

Part Three

Anthony stood outside the door of the hospital room, clenching and unclenching his

hands. He wished that he had something for them to hold. They felt empty andpurposeless as they hung at his side.

"Father Hardesty will see you know." The ICU nurse bustled through the door, leaving it

open for him to step inside.

"Thanks." The doctor murmured, sliding past her into the room.

It smelled of death. Accustomed to hospitals, Anthony had learned the scent. It was the

sweat and heavy bouquet of tart antiseptic medicine and wilting flowers whose scent had

disappeared long before when hope was new. It was hard for him to bring his eyes to thefigure stretched across the bed, but he forced himself to do it. He felt tears pricking at his

eyes, barely recognizing the shriveled man who had once been his dearest teacher.

Out of habit, the physician plucked the chart from the edge of the bed. His eyes scanned

the page quickly. Pulse. Blood gases. Temperature...The numbers swirled on the page, as

his mind rebelled against the attempt to pretend that his interest was clinical. This wasn't

a patient. It was a friend.

"Anthony."

The doctor's eyes rose slowly at the sound of his name. He had thought the old man was

asleep, but he could see now that the soft brown eyes were partly opened. Dr. Girardeau's

posture relaxed somewhat. The look, at least, was unchanged: warm, yet neutral.... wise.

"Anthony..." the man repeated, his voice wheezing strangely from his chest. "You came."

"Of course I came," the younger man echoed quietly as he knelt beside the bed. "How


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could I stay away?"

"They said they couldn't find you..." The childlike confusion in the elderly priests voicepricked at Anthony's heart. "They wrote to Maine. They called, but they said..."

"I'm not there anymore." Anthony comforted. He collected Father Hardesty's hand in hispalm, pressing the bony fingers between his own.

"They said you were gone.... they said...."

"I'm in Connecticut now." He explained, trying to project a confidence he didn't feel. "At

a Clinic..." His hand tightened as he forced out his confession. "I left the church. I'm not a

priest anymore.... I...I left."

Anthony let the hand slide back against the sheets and turned his head away. He braced

himself for the rebuke that he knew must come.

"You left?" Pain, rather than anger was in the voice. "Anthony?"

"I had to leave."

"But-"

"You know why." The doctor's tone was clipped. "You of all people know why..." He

swallowed the rest. You're the only person who knows.... and soon you will be gone.

The kind dark eyes widened slightly, and the bony fingers reached forward once more. "I

know why, Anthony- but I don't understand it...you had so much faith."

"Faith." Anthony's lips twisted at the bitter taste of the word.

"Just because something bad happens doesn't mean the good is gone. Anthonysometimes-"

"Don't preach to me!" the doctor hissed, then instantly repented the words. A tear slid

down his face as he held the priests icy fingers to his cheek. "I'm sorry..." He whispered."Father! Forgive me. I didn't mean to.... I.... I'm sorry I let you down...but I can't go on

pretending anymore. I can believe in things that I can't see- but I can't ignore the things

that I can. I can't follow blindly anymore."

"Anthony, if you would only try-"

"I did everything right!" Anthony's eyes were rimmed in red, but he stubbornly refused to

cry. "Everything- and what did it prove?"

"It proved that there are no rules to life. Only God knows what is meant to be. All-" A


18/79

cough interrupted the remarks. The exertion forced the priest to rest before he could

continue. "Everything we have is by God's grace. There is a reason, if you wait for it. In

time you will understand."

"Understand? I don't want to understand." Anthony's voice wavered with emotion. "I

want to forget.

"Anthony-"

"I'm a doctor! I want to help people!"

"You're a priest!"

The doctor looked at the floor once more. "I was a priest." He mumbled. "A long time

ago..."

Silence fell between the men.

"Time to go," the watch nurse said gently as she returned through the door. Anthony'sface betrayed his relief. "Father Hardesty needs his rest. You can see him again in the

morning."

The doctor nodded his head reluctantly. There was still so much left unsaid...but he barelyknew how to begin. Father Hardesty was stable, for now. God had granted them a few

more days... but would it be enough?

Stephanie shook the final cluster of peanuts from the bag she had bought from the

vending machine and washed the down with a swig of diet Coke.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured to herself, looking over the discarded wrappers that

represented her Christmas feast. There was no 'room service' because of the holiday.

There were, undoubtedly, a few restaurants open in the town, but she had waited too longhoping that Anthony might return... and at any rate, it seemed pathetic to eat alone at a

restaurant on a holiday. She thought, wistfully, of the feast the Annabella had planned.

Her mouth watered at the thought of the buttery potatoes and moist turkey... She thought

of her friends as well. She could picture them gathering around the table in the maindining room, sharing joy and thankfulness that they could be together.

Together without me.

Stephanie sighed glumly and took out her cellphone again. She had absolutely no reason

to call. She was certain that Lisa had relayed her message- but she wanted to hear afriendly voice.

She dialed the Inn, letting it ring longer than usual.


19/79

No answer.

There was no response in the kitchen either, or the dining room.

Growing concerned, Stephanie keyed in the number to the Tavern.

On the tenth ring, Stephanie sighed in frustration. Someone should have picked up by

now. Where were they?

Probably out having fun. She admitted to herself glumly.

Stephanie stared at her phone, not knowing any other numbers to try - well, no other

numbers save one.

Terry.

The woman stared at her phone. She had barely spoken ten words to the man since theirbreakup. It wasn't that they bore each other ill will - Stephanie loved Kaz and was happy

that Terry had found her- things were simply awkward. They had tried so hard to fall inlove with each other, but it simply wasn't written in the stars. Now, every meeting with

Terry was a reminder of what could have been, and she wasn't sure that she trusted

herself alone with her imagination. She loved Anthony desperately, but sometimes he was

so distant and unreadable. With Terry, she had always known where she stood. That factstill held a powerful attraction. Well, that and the fact that he puts out...In spite of herself,

the woman smiled at the memory of the ill-advised but memorable night of passion that

they had shared.

Finally, she picked up the receiver and dialed the Point.

A twinge of nervousness returned as she heard ringing on the line.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

She was about to hang up when a groggy voice asked: "Hullo?"

"Terry?"

There was a pause. "Stephanie?"

"Hi." She whispered. "How are you?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. Stephanie felt a twinge of jealousy as a


20/79

voice in the background murmured, "Steph? She okay?"

"Am I interrupting something?" She said sharply, hating herself for being so childish.

"Actually..." The Australian began slowly. He must have caught the embarrassed intake of

breath from the other end because he hurried to add. "Where are you, luv? It's threeo'clock in the morning."

Stephanie glanced at the clock. It was only six in Columbus. She had forgotten about thedifference in time. Since she didn't know where, precisely, the Point was, there was never

any way to judge the difference in time zones. She had been lucky this morning- their

timeline had seemed to converge.

"I'm sorry!" She said quickly. "I'll call back later."

"No... No!" Terry sounded as if he were slowly coming awake. "It's all right. I'm awake

now."

"I'm bloody not!" the third voice called, sleepily. "Steph, you owe me a bloody whisky!"

Stephanie heard the creek of mattress springs, and then footsteps on a hardwood floor as

Terry moved across his room.

"What is it, luv?" He said quietly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Stephanie answered quietly. "Just.... lonely."

"Isn't Anthony there?" The tension in Terry's voice indicated that he, like her, was still a

few inches from complete comfort with the situation.

"No. He's gone to the hospital."

"Lisa said his friend was sick."

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"I don't know. He's at the hospital now."

"Did he say how long you would stay."?

"No...he hasn't talked about it much at all...he...." The suddenness of her tears took even

Stephanie by surprise.

"Shhh...shh...." Terry whispered awkwardly. "What is it, luv?"


21/79

"I shouldn't have come." She blubbered. "I thought that he needed me, but now...."

"He does need you." Terry insisted. "He wouldn't have asked you to come if he didn't."

"He didn't ask me to come."

"Then he wouldn't have let you come. Anthony doesn't play games."

"He isn't like the Anthony we know...something's wrong Terry... something strange."

"Strange how?"

"Strange..." Stephanie sighed. She didn't really know how to explain it to herself. "This

has something to do with why he left the Priesthood... and its something terrible- but he

won't let me know. It's killing him, Terry...and I feel so helpless."

"He'll let you know in time."

"Will he?"

"He loves you, hon. He just needs to sort things out for himself...."

"He's never told me that he loves me."

"Do you need to hear it to know that it is true?"

Stephanie fell silent, turning over her thoughts in her mind. "No." She said at last. "But I

want to..." She sighed. "Why can't things just be simple?"

Terry laughed tenderly. "Because then you'd be complaining about life being boring!" he

teased. Though he couldn't see her, Stephanie nodded her head, acknowledging that hewas right.

"Terry..." A disgruntled voice drifted toward the receiver.

"I'd better let you go." Stephanie replied. "I don't want to get you in trouble."

"I can handle Kaz," the K&R expert assured her. Stephanie didn't reply, but thought toherself how lucky he was that Kaz hadn't heard that comment. "...But I am pretty tired."

"Go to sleep." The Kentuckian answered. "Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams to you too, luv... Just be patient. This is going to work out... And I'm here

if you need me- even at 3 AM."


22/79

"I know Terry... thanks."

"It's nothing." He hesitated for a beat. "I still love you, you know."

"I know..." Stephanie smiled, interpreting the remarks as they were intended - as a

declaration of friendship, not an offer to dally on Kaz. "...And I love you. I've missed youTerry. Take care."

"You too, Gracie." He whispered. "Goodnight."

By the time Anthony returned to the hotel room, it was after nine o'clock. He had left the

hospital at seven, but he hadn't been ready to return. He had driven through the streets of

Columbus for almost two hours, trying to order his thoughts, and work away some of hisnervous energy before her faced his girlfriend.

The doctor lifted his hand to knock on the door that separated their hotel rooms. It was

slightly ajar, and so he pushed it open, stepping back when he heard the sound of theshower running in the bathroom. She was getting ready for bed.

For a moment, he considered stepping into the room. He balanced his desire to be held

and comforted with the knowledge that she would require an explanation - an explanation

that he wasn't ready to give. Slowly, his disappointment at not finding her in the room

was replaced with relief.

He eased the door closed again and returned to his bed. They could talk in the morning.

In the morning, things would make sense.

Anthony sat in the middle of the bed, staring into the darkness of his room. He was so

tired... but he didn't trust himself to sleep. All through his time at the hospital, and thehours of aimless driving that had followed, his unwanted memories had edged closer and

closer to the surface. The ghosts that had haunted him for nearly a year were all around

him now. They were waiting in the shadows to consume him once more. He wouldn'tgive in.

He couldn't.

The doctor switched on the TV, hoping for a distraction. "A Miracle on 34th Street" was

playing - the new version.

"Non-believers..." Dylan McDermott sighed to Santa, turning a jewelry box over in his

hands. It was a Tiffany's box... a box like the one that had held Stephanie's earrings...

He blinked in surprise when he glanced at the screen again. The movie was almost over.

He must have dozed off.

"In God We Trust..." the judge was delivering his final speech acquitting Kris Kringle of


23/79

insanity. Anthony liked the Post Office version better. When he was a boy they had

watched it at home. He had asked his mother about how they delivered his own letters to

Santa... Did Santa have a mailbox? How was it big enough? Did Santa know God? Is thatwhere he found out who was good and bad? Did the priests tell him?

I'm falling asleep... Anthony felt a sense of panic as his mind drifted intounconsciousness, but he was too exhausted to resist.

How did the priests learn who was bad and good? Did they hear it in confession? Why dopeople have to confess?

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

I don't want to remember!!! Anthony was screaming inside his mind, but no one could

hear.

"It has been...I guess it's been years since my last confession...."

Please God, let me forget.

"I had to tell someone...I'll go crazy if I don't."

Don't make me live through this again.

Part Four

"Go on, my child." Anthony slipped a finger beneath the collar around his neck and

tugged nervously. The clerical band seemed too tight. It was choking away his air- or

perhaps it was merely a physical manifestation of the discomfort he felt inside. He hatedhearing confession, especially when he was all alone- but Father Carter was away from

the Parish, and Pastor Pinkerton was adamant that regular hours be observed.

Sometimes no one came.

Tonight, Anthony had been unlucky.

"I'm listening." He encouraged, trying to calm his nerves and concentrate.

"I'm...I....God, father- I mean!... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say-"

"That's alright." Anthony rubbed his hands on his pants, grateful that the parishioner

couldn't see him. He could tell from the man's voice that he was older than the priest. Theconfessor needed help, and probably hoped that he was talking to someone qualified to

offer it. "It is acceptable to use the Lord's name if you are really calling out to him..." the

priest soothed. "You may continue."


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There was a short period of silence, and then a heavy sigh. "I'm....afraid. I'm so

afraid...I've really messed up this time, and I don't know a way out."

"What have you messed up?"

"My practice. My family....my life."

His practice.

Anthony's ears pricked instantly to attention as he realized that the voice sounded

familiar. He had heard it at the hospital. Was the man a doctor there?

The young man struggled against the impulse to push aside the curtain in the confessionaland take a look. He wasn't meant to know who was speaking to him, but still... "What are

you afraid of?"

"Myself." The answer seemed flat and ominous. "I've tried to stop it, but I can't. I don'tknow how much longer it will be a secret?"

"Is there a woman?" Anthony's voice wavered as he tried to emulate the "concerned, but

not too curious" voice that he had been trained to use. When there was no answer, he

continued. "Money?..." He took a deep breath. "Have you hurt someone?"

"I don't know....I mean, I don't think so. Not yet...God." This time the man didn't

apologize for the omission, and continued as if he had forgotten he was speaking to a

priest. "This is fucked up. This is so fucked up...."

Anthony licked his lips, unsure of what to do. He decided to wait until the man continued

on his own.

"No one at the hospital has noticed."

"Noticed?"

"That its missing."

"It?" Girardeau felt a chill along his spine. For a moment, there was silence, and he was

afraid that the other man wasn't going to go on, but at last he spoke.

"Sufentanil." The man said quietly.

Anthony's breath came out in a slow shudder.

"Father?"

He wasn't suppose to know what it was.


25/79

"Is that a drug?" he asked, hoping that his voice sounded steadier to the penitent than it

did to him. He knew the answer all to well. Anthony's heart raced as his mind recalled hismedical training. Sufentanil was an opiate, 700 to 1000 times more potent than morphine.

It was used as an analgesic during surgery. Since it didn't trigger a histamine release, it

was safe for use in large doses during the marathons that open-heart surgeries andtransplants sometimes became.

"Yes." The voice was wavering again. "I..." Anthony could hear the beginning of panic inthe other man's voice. He could almost sense the doctor's thoughts: What have I done? "I

shouldn't have told you, but I-"

"You were right to tell me. We need to find help."

"No! I can't do that. No one can know..." Apprehension oozed from the words.

"You have to get treatment. The state licensure board can..."

"I don't need help, I need forgiveness."

The anger in the words silenced Anthony, who looked at his hands. "Forgiveness is freely

given to the truly penitent...."

"Truly penitent? You don't think I'm sorry enough?" There was a snort of bitter laughter,

then silence. When the words began again, they were softer. "I've already been forgiven

once. When I was a resident, I..." the voice trailed off, allowing Anthony to fill in thestory for himself. "I've used up my chances. I have a wife and kids now...a

practice....father, I can't tell them. I have to find a way out on my own."

Anthony bit his lip, wishing he knew what to say. The two areas of his training, healing,

and the church, were pulling him toward opposite answers.

"I already had my license on suspension. When I moved here from Maryland, I-"

"Doctor Forster?"

A second too late, Anthony realized that he had said the name aloud. It was the natural

reaction to a final puzzle piece falling into place. He had met the cardio-thoracic surgeon

only a half-dozen times at the hospital, but had heard his story many times. Dr. Forsterwas a brilliant doctor, well-known for his skill in performing bypass operations- but also

a recovering addict. He had received special permission from the state to practice at St.

Mary's Hospital for as long as he remained on a board-sponsored monitoring program....

But Sufentanil wouldn't show on the screens...It had a dissipation curve of 30 minutes.

No one would ever know.


26/79

No one except for Anthony.

"How do you know my name?" Dr. Forster sounded slightly menacing as his words

carried into the cubicle.

Anthony didn't answer.

"How do you know who I am?" The man demanded again before changing tactics. "Youcan't tell anyone. You won't tell!" There was an edge of panic in his tone.

"What you say to me is kept in confidence." Anthony said reluctantly. "But I beg you to

let me help you."

There was another derisive sniff. "What could you ever know about my life?" He

sneered.

In his mind, the priest responded. Probably more than you know...

"Scrubbing in again, Dr. Girardeau?" Dr. Michaelson, a portly, silver-haired man winked

at Anthony as he stepped in front of the scrub sink. He stepped to one side, giving the

younger man room to reach for the soap and begin to wash. "We'd better be careful, Bob."

Michaelson tilted his chin at Dr. Forster. "He might be planning to declare a newspecialty and start competing with us."

"It's just something that interests me right now..." The youngest doctor said gamely,rubbing the soap under his fingernails as the warm water continued to flow over his skin.

"The techniques that you use are fascinating." Anthony offered the two men a forced

smile.

And I don't have to let Dr. Forster out of my sight.

For a week and a half, ever since the confession, Anthony had made a point to attend as

many of Dr. Forster's surgeries as possible. He had decided, after a struggle, that he

couldn't divulge the information that he had received in private- but that didn't mean that

he couldn't report a well-founded suspicion on his own.

Luckily, Dr. Forster didn't seem to know who he had been talking to. Anthony doubted

that he even realized his fellow physician was a priest. Although the man's wife anddaughters were regulars at Mass, he seldom accompanied them. He was always too busy

working.

Or otherwise engaged.

Anthony forced the thought from his mind. He knew better than to judge others-

especially when he was operating on incomplete information. Since his surveillance had


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begun, he had failed to notice any unusual behavior from the other man. Perhaps the

confession had been triggered by a one-time relapse. Maybe the terror of what he had

done had been enough to foreclose a new addiction. It could be, that things were going tobe okay on their own.

But Anthony wasn't ready to believe that yet.

The part of him that had been trained as Father Anthony counseled him to put his faith in

God and to hope for the best, but Doctor Anthony rebelled at the notion of leaving wellenough alone. He had seen, too often, the price of a single, careless error. What if one of

Dr. Forster's patients was injured by a drug-induced mistake? What if they died? Wouldn't

their blood be on his hands as well?

"Are you coming?"

Anthony blinked. He had been staring. "Sure." He responded, accepting a pair of latex

gloves from the nurse and following Dr. Michaelson into the OR.

The patient was already lying on the table with a white sheet draped over her body. Theanesthesiologist stood at the end of the table, monitoring vital signs and the

administration of drugs while a few nurses completed the last minute preparations before

the surgery could begin.

"Do you want to do the incision, Girardeau?" Dr. Forster offered as he perused the tools

laid out by the table.

"No thanks, I'm just here to observe."

"You can't bill for observation." The man joked, flashing a grin at the younger man.

Dr. Michaelson broke in before he could respond. "Oh, Anthony doesn't have to worry

about earning a living like the rest of us."

The grin on Forster's face deepened. "Rich parents?" He inquired.

"Vow of poverty." Dr. Michaelson supplied, his bright eyes disappearing into the creasesof his smile. He seemed unaware that the effect of his teasing had been lost on his

companions. The smile on Robert Forster's face disappeared, and the look on Anthony's

features was one akin to terror.

"Poverty?" Forster asked tightly. "I don't remember that option from medical school."

"Anthony is a priest."

"A priest?"


28/79

Dr. Girardeau didn't want to meet the other man's eyes, but he felt powerless to resist. The

steel grey orbs burned into his skull until he finally lifted his gaze.

"A priest." Forster pretended that he was still speaking to the older doctor. "Well that

explains a lot. No wonder he is interested in...matters of the heart."

"Matters of the heart." Michaelson laughed again, mistaking the veiled statement as a

pun. "That's a good one, Bob."

"A very sudden interest." There was accusation in his look, and Anthony felt guilty, even

though he had never tried to hide who- or whathe was.

"Well...I just want to make sure that people get the best care possible." he murmuredweakly.

"Are you ready to begin?" Relief flashed across Anthony's face as the anesthesiologist

interrupted.

Dr. Michaelson nodded. "Well, Gentlemen." He said to the other surgeons. "Let's get thisshow on the road."

"Let's." Forster said brusquely, and he lifted his scalpel to begin.

"Dr. Girardeau, could you sign these charts?" The priest winced as one of the floor nurses

bustled forward with a stack of papers.

"Actually, if it could wait until tomorrow..."

He had hoped to make it to the truck before Forster could follow him. He needed time tothink, and plan, before the confrontation that he knew was coming. The nurses, however,

were not cooperating. Ignoring his protest, the woman transferred the bundle into his

arms. "And Kevin wanted me to remind you to get the rest of your dictation in. They'restill waiting on the progress report for the gallbladder you did yesterday."

Anthony nodded his head, lunging toward the nearest flat surface to scratch his name on

the required sheets. He looked up as a shadow fell across the page.

"Aren't you even reading those?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop as he heard

Dr. Forster's voice. "That's hardly best medical practice..." it scolded. "And I know thatyou want your patients get the best medical care possible."

"Bob." The priest turned slowly, his eyes moving to an empty patient room across thehall. It was unlikely now that he would escape their conversation. He might as well get it

over with. "I suppose that you would rather talk to me in private."

The man followed him to the room, and Anthony shut the door.


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It was barely closed before Forster lashed out. "What the fuck do you think you're doing

following me around?" He hissed. "I'm not your little med student!"

The priest settled gingerly onto the edge of the bed. "I'm just trying to make sure that

you're alright."

"If I needed your help, I'd ask for it."

"You did ask!" Now Anthony was getting angry. He hadn't asked to be put in this

situation, and he sure as hell wasn't going to apologize for his actions.

"Then I'm retracting the request." The other man raked his fingers through his hair, "I'mfine."

"If you were fine, then you wouldn't have been reaching out." Anthony folded his hands

in his lap. He sighed. "There are solutions here. The fact that you recognized that youhave a problem is..."

"My only problem is you, Girardeau." Forster seethed. "I want you to leave me alone."

The cardio-thoracic surgeon stared into the darkness for a moment before he turned

around. When he did, his voice was quieter, but just as venomous. "You will leave mealone." He started pacing forward. "Don't ever try to scrub in with me again. Don't read

my fucking charts and don't 'pop in' on my patients during rounds. If you do, I swear to

God I will destroy you. I will rip you apart, Girardeau, do you hear me?"

Anthony stiffened at the threat.

"I almost lost everything over this once before. My wife. My kids. My respect. If you

think I'm going to let some goody-two shoes busy-body take it from me, then I'll warn

you that there are a lot of fucking altar boys willing to say a lot of shit for a few hundredbucks." He eyed the priest coldly, naked hate shimmering behind his eyes. "That's a

promise 'Father' Anthony. If I go down, you are fucking going with me."

"Anthony!"

Dr. Girardeau gasped as he came awake, the sharp, pained sound echoing through the

stillness of the room. Beside him he heard another, softer intake of breath, and movementbeside his head.

"Anthony? Are you okay...."

The doctor blinked several times before his eyes found their focus. "Stephanie?" He

murmured hoarsely.


30/79

"Are you alright?" He felt her hand against his cheek. Until its touch, he didn't realize

how cold his own skin was. His T-shirt was soaked in sweat, and his pulse was racing.

"You were screaming, and I...."

Anthony slowly sat up, squinting at the face in front of him. The door that separated the

two hotel rooms was open, and the pale light that filtered through illuminated one side ofher face. Her pretty features were scrunched in concern. "Is it Father Hardesty?"

"No." the doctor sat up, blinking his eyes, as he tried to get his bearings. "I mean- he's aswell as can be expected."

"Something else then?" The woman tilted her head expectantly. Anthony could sense that

it was an offer for him to open up to her- but he could not accept.

After a moment, the woman's shoulders slumped. "You're tired." Stephanie mumbled. "I'll

let you go back to sleep."

"No." Anthony felt a flicker of terror at the prospect of being left alone once more with

his thoughts. He reached forward anxiously. "Don't go." he whispered.

Frowning, Stephanie turned back around.

The doctor reached for her hand.

"Stay with me tonight." Part Five (back to top)

Stephanie lingered in the doorway of the Clinic, stalling the return to her car. "You know

that I can stay if you need me."

"No." Doctor Girardeau gave his girlfriend another gentle kiss and nudged her toward the

parking lot. "You have to work. Father Hardesty is stable for now. I said what I needed to

say to him - and I'll only have to go back again if...when the end comes."

Stephanie dipped her chin in acknowledgment. "I'm here if you need me, Anthony. If you

want to talk..."

"I'm fine." Anthony foreclosed the conversation with a quick kiss on her forehead. "I'm

just... tired and have a lot of work to do." His expression softened as he traced a fingertip

across her cheek. "I'm sorry that I ruined your Christmas."

"You didn't ruin it," Stephanie assured him. "And besides, we'll have more."

Anthony brushed a lock of her hair away and answered with another kiss. "Next year will

be better," he promised.

Sliding his arms around her waist, the doctor stepped out of the Clinic for a final


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goodbye. He leaned forward to inhale the flowery scent of her hair before tilting her chin

upwards for a farewell kiss. "Call me when you get home."

"I will," she responded.

"Will you be back next weekend?"

"I'll try."

"Good."

"I love you, Anthony." Stephanie spoke the words in a breathless rush and then waited for

him to respond.

There was a moment of stillness.

"Drive safe."

"Yeah."

Stephanie tried to bury her disappointment long enough to pick up her overnight case. As

she turned back towards the car though she allowed her features to show her dismay.

Anthony stayed on the porch until she had pulled her silver Maxima back onto the road.

Glancing in the rear view mirror she saw him turn back into the clinic and she let her

breath come out in shudder.

Drive safe.

Well, he hadn't acted upset by her own declaration of love, at least.

He had spoken barely three-dozen sentences on their journey back to the Point. Hissilence was maddening, but at least she knew that it wasn't directed at her. Sadness hung

about him like a heavy cloak- a sadness not entirely explained by Father Hardesty's

weakening condition. She had watched Anthony's face the night before as he lain in her

arms. He had struggled not to fall asleep, almost as though he were afraid of what hisdreams might bring.

What filled his dreams though? And why wouldn't he let her inside? Stephanie sighedheavily. The pain that was tormenting Anthony reverberated somewhere deep within her

own soul. The ache was compounded by her sense of helplessness. She wanted to soothe

him, to help him, to comfort him. As long as he kept his secrets bottled up inside,thought, that was impossible

Stephanie reached the fork in the road and pulled her car to a stop. Instead of heading

west, away from the Point toward home, she made a U-turn and drove back toward the


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stables. A few moments later, the wooden structure was in view. She pulled the car over

to the side of the road and got out.

"Hello?" Stephanie called, blinking as she stepped inside the dim enclosure. It was

warmer here than outside. The scent of a hickory fire mingled with the peaty smell of

horses and earth. "Is anyone here?"

"Who's that?" a voice called out. She heard the sound of a shovel begin leaned against the

wall, and then one of the brothers poked his head out of a stall.

"East?"

"Yeah. Who's asking?"

The girl waved at the youthful incarnation of the Creator. "It's me, Stephanie."

"Looking for someone?" the Australian frowned. Although the Kentuckian liked to boastabout her home state's exports of bourbon and thoroughbreds, he had only seen her drink

one shot of whiskey- and she had never been to the stables before.

She nodded in response, "I have to find NJ. I thought I would check here before the

hotel."

"Sorry. I haven't seen her... Kath?"

Stephanie took a step back as the blonde Welshwoman stepped into view. She had abridle in one hand and a rag in the other, and continued to polish the tack as she

responded. "Sorry Steph. She's not here. You won't find her up at the Inn either. She and

Mannie headed home when they caught a break in the snow."

The American's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Oh. Okay. I'll try the cabin then."

"In this weather?" East eyed her with concern. "There's no way that you are going to get

that car up the mountain."

"Then can I borrow a horse?"

East's lips clamped shut abruptly, his face betraying his wish that he had kept his mouth

shut. "I... uhm...." He shuffled his feet and looked at Kath.

"Is it something urgent?" his girlfriend asked calmly. "You seem upset."

"It's about Anthony," Stephanie said, sensing that the pair weren't going to help her, and

feeling a suddenly, illogical desperation to find Norma Jean and to learn the truth about

what was going on. "Something happened to him before he came here, and I... I need to

know what. He and NJ were friends in Maine, and...." She let her voice trail off, aware


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that her words weren't making any sense, but helpless to improve her explanation.

Something of the urgency she felt must have shown on her face. The other woman spokein a low but determined voice. "Let me find you something warmer to wear and East will

take you up."

"Now..." wait just a damn minute. The Aussie swallowed the words that he had been

about to speak and glanced warily at Kath. Still, Stephanie could almost hear his

thoughts.

"I don't think it's a good idea to take an inexperienced rider on the slopes," he attempted.

"She could break her neck. Or worse- the horse might snap its ankle."

Kath sighed at his prioritisation, refusing to back down. "Well, then, she can ride with

you."

The pair locked eyes, a fierce gaze passing between them. Stephanie felt a flicker of hopeas East's posture softened slightly, hoping it was a sign that his resolve had faltered.

"Well, I don't like it..." he muttered. "And Mannie won't like being invaded neither."

"Well, East Driscoll, " Kath pronounced, "as I am sure that NJ will say to Mannie

&endash; tough!" The Welshwoman slid her arm behind the other girl's shoulder, givingher a sympathetic smile. "Lets find you a scarf and some gloves. You two will need to

leave soon to make it up to the cabin before dark."

I'm going to get fired.

The absolute certainty that she was going to miss work the next day- again- buzzed in theback of Stephanie's mind like an itch that she couldn't reach, but there was too much to

concentrate on in the present to devote her full attention to the worry. Horseback riding

was far more strenuous than she remembered. The muscles around her pelvis and thighswere already screaming with exertion and, by East's calculation, they still had a half-hour

or more of trail to go.

Their mount, a dappled Mare named Ceres was one of the sturdier horses that Max andMassimo favoured. The animal seemed untroubled by the snow but stumbled slightly on

a patch of ice. Stephanie had to tighten her arms around East's waist to hold her seat. The

Australian did not react, but Stephanie felt a faint blush slide across her cheeks as herfingers felt the hard ridges of his abdomen through his shirt.

In spite of the age difference, East unavoidably reminded her of Terry Thorne. With hismouth shut and his rugged features scrunched in concentration he looked exactly as the

hostage negotiator must have done before life and time had sculpted the subtle

differences in his face. The pseudo-intimacy of their position, Stephanie's arms twined

tightly around the man's waist, made her acutely aware of the similarities. Inevitably, the


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proximity of his body conjured memories of the single night of passion that she had

shared with his "younger" brother.

The blush deepened.

Damn, it had been a long time...

"That smoke is from the fireplace."

Stephanie jumped guiltily as East's voice jarred her back to the present.

"Over there on the ridge."

The woman followed East's gaze, pleased to see that they had almost arrived.

"Thanks East. I know that you didn't want to do this..."

"Thank Kath," he countered, then glanced over his shoulder to give her a look of apology

for his earlier reluctance. "Ceres here needed the exercise... and Anthony is a nice enoughguy." He seemed to sense that he was bungling his attempt to deflect her apology and so

he drew to a close. " I do hope you find what you are looking for."

Anthony unpacked his suitcase and then walked from his apartment into the Clinic. Thereweren't any messages on the answering machine, and there weren't any notes to indicate

that anyone had needed him while he was gone.

That's because there weren't any patients.

With a sigh, Anthony shuffled through the short stack of case files behind his desk.Nothing. Nothing. Sprained wrist. Nothing...

Anthony knew, intellectually, that when the Point needed a doctor, they really needed adoctor. He understood that he was mostly around for emergencies, and that neither NJ,

nor anyone else expected him to carry the patient load of a normal practicing physician. It

simply wasn't possible with such a tiny, relatively healthy population. Still, on nights like

this one, sitting alone in an empty office, the boredom made it harder to deny that, nomatter why NJ had chosen to ask him to come here, he had accepted her proposal because

he wanted to hide.

But how much longer was that possible? Why did he still refuse to deal with what had

happened?

The doctor closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the memory of Stephanie's hurt

expression when he had once again refused her offer of confidence. She loved him so

much... and he had never even told her that he felt the same. He couldn't - or wouldn't-

find the words to tell the attorney how much she meant to him. She was the light of his


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whole world... but he was still too wary of the short distance between love and pain to

take a risk and let her know. Only hours ago he had sent her into the snow without

acknowledgment of his feelings. The depth of his emotions was one more thing that hewas afraid to face.

Allowing himself to love Stephanie was the first selfish thing that he had done in hisadult life. Sometimes, he wondered if he carried the sense of indulgence too far. He

dictated virtually all of the terms of their relationship: when they met, the boundaries of

their physical intimacy, what they could discuss...

He knew that Stephanie wanted more.

She wanted him to ask her to stay at the Point. She hated her job in Kentucky. She hadhinted more than once that what she really wanted to do was to set up shop on her own in

a small town where she could get to know the people whose lives she touched. The little

village in Connecticut where they attended Mass was perfect.

He also knew that, at least subconsciously, Stephanie wanted him to make love to her.

Anthony closed his eyes again, this time to savour, rather than avoid a memory. Herecalled the warmth of her hands on Christmas Eve. Even though his comparisons were

based on the backseat groping of half a lifetime ago, he knew that their bodies were made

for each other. Sometimes, simply lying close to her as he had the night before, he saw

that his inhibitions were a dam holding back flood-raged waters, and that it was only amatter of time before it broke.

Most importantly, she wanted to know the truth about his past. He didn't even know, asidefrom their first meeting, if he had ever discussed what it was like to be a priest. Even the

happy days had been pushed aside in his attempt to pretend that eight years of his life had

never happened.

Stephanie had never asked for any of those things in words. She wouldn't. Anthony

wanted all of them as well - but not until the timing was right. He simply needed time.

In spite of the teasing she sometimes endured from Tina and Ilaria about her allegedly

impulsive nature, Stephanie had been incredibly patient with him... How much longer

would it last, though?

Anthony held onto the thread of thought as long as he could. He knew that other, even

darker memories were converging once more onto his mind. They hovered like ghosts onthe outer edges of his consciousness, waiting for a chance to slip inside...

"Mama! Mama! Where are you? Mama!!!" A little boy in a red parka wandered aimlesslyin the waiting room. A dazed expression was on his face, and a crust of dried blood

smeared his cheek. "Mama...."

As Anthony crossed the floor, a dozen voices assaulted him at once:


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"Dr. Girardeau, they need you in surgery." "How many more are there?" "God, did you

see the woman who just came in on seven?" "This one's coded." "Could you give us ahand?" "MAAaaamaaa!"

"Anthony, in here. Now!"

At last, Dr. Michaelson's command broke through the fog, and the younger doctor waded

through the chaos toward his colleague.

"Thank God you're here!"

The priest nodded evenly. "I got the page. What happened?"

"A bus accident on the freeway. A greyhound clipped a fuel tanker."

Dr. Girardeau sidestepped a stretcher as he continued to listen.

"They diverted the non-critical cases to County, but this is all hands on deck. I'm callingeveryone in."

"Doctor?"

The older man turned as a nurse peeked her head around the doorway, her expression

grave. "We need you-"

"On my way." He returned his attention to the other man only briefly. "Scrub in on two

...punctured lung I think, I'm not sure what the hell you're going to find in there."

Without waiting for more, Anthony dashed toward the operating room, adrenaline surging

through his veins as the urgency that surrounded him finally began to sink in.

The patient on the table was a woman in her late thirties. In addition to the punctured

lung that Michaelson had mentioned, Anthony could tell at a glance that her left leg was

nearly crushed, and he guessed that there would be considerable internal bleeding as well.

The nurses were cutting away her clothes to expose the wounds, and he noticed acrumpled Teletubbie sticker on her jacket pocket.

He thought briefly of the little boy in the red parka in the waiting room.

Then he pushed all his conscious thoughts away and went to work.

Despite years of training, he gasped as opened the chest to an immediate rush of fluid and

blood. His first objective was merely to stifle the bleeding, but even at that he hardly

knew where to begin.


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It quickly became apparent that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Her blood pressure is falling..."

Anthony glanced at the nurse. "I know. Two more units...."

She's flatlining." The second nurses's comments seemed redundant as the eerie whine of

the heart monitor filled the room. "Paddles?"

Anthony hesitated, then nodded. "No. It's too late. She bled out. I'm calling." He touched

the woman's face briefly, then turned toward the clock on the wall. "Ten fifty-four. I have

to go to the other OR."

Anthony was already shedding his gloves as he rushed out of the room. The hospital was

still in pandemonium: lights, screaming, movement...

The other operating rooms were already full. He simply picked one and hurried inside toassist. The patient was another woman, this time elderly. She had also received head

injuries, but seemed to be stable.

The attending surgeon glanced up briefly, accepting Anthony's help with a silent gesture

of thanks. The priest recognized his colleague as Dr. Hain. She looked tired, and he

wondered how long she had been on duty.

"Dr. Forster's been called in." She said, too intent on her movements to notice the change

on Anthony's expression. "He finally answered his page..."

As if on cue doors swung open again.

Something was wrong.

Anthony felt his stomach lurch as he noticed the distant, unfixed look in Dr. Forster'seyes. He knew that the cardio-thoracic surgeon had not been on call that night, and

probably hadn't expected to be called in to the hospital. His gait was uneven, and his skin

seemed flushed. Although someone who wasn't looking might not notice, Anthony saw

the telltale signs of a high.

The two men met each other's eyes, and younger man's blood ran cold at the look of pure

hatred he found in the bloodshot orbs.

Dr. Forster had been caught in the act at last, but now that he had reached the moment of

truth, Anthony was strangely uncertain how to proceed. He stared for a long moment, andthen murmured. "I don't think that Dr. Forster is feeling well."

Dr. Hain frowned. "What?"


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"I'm fine." Dr. Forster snapped.

"No, you're not." Anthony's own voice wobbled as he tried to find the courage to do whathe knew he must.

"I'm am fine!" The other man insisted more vehemently. His anger made the flush on hisskin seem more pronounced.

Anthony braced himself for action. "Doctor, I insist that you dismiss yourself fromsurgery."

"And I insist that you shut the fuck up and try to save this woman's life!"

Dr. Hain had fallen silent. She and the nurses stared in disbelief at the scene that played

out before them.

Dr. Forster glanced over their faces, then said casually. "I'm sorry about this 'outburst' Dr.Hain. Doctor- or should I say Father? Girardeau has been under a lot of stress at the

church. Some nasty accusations floating around, as I understand it." His voice was thickwith menace. "Perhaps he should leave."

"I-"

At last Dr. Hain snapped out of her shock. "This is a surgery, not a pissing contest!" she

spat angrily. She signaled her attendant for another tool as she returned her attention to

her patient. "This can wait until later."

"No, it can't." Girardeau insisted, even as Dr. Forster's threat: "I'm taking you with me"

echoed through his mind. Anthony felt as if he was going to be sick as visions of thepossible future rushed through his imagination. He had no doubt that Dr. Forster was

deadly serious in his intentions. Still, he knew what he must do. "I can't assist on this

surgery if Dr. Forster stays."

The female surgeon sighed. "Why?"

"Because-"

This was it. Anthony's own hands were shaking now. He wasn't sure that the other man

was under the influence of drugs- and he couldn't articulate his suspicion withoutrevealing the information he had received at church.

"I can't say." He mumbled miserably at last.

Dr. Hain's features twisted in disgust. "Then, if you can't work with Dr. Forster, I suggest

you leave."


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Anthony flushed. "This man is not capable of-!"

"Out, Doctor!" Dr. Hain jerked her head angrily toward the door.

Anthony's mouth opened and shut. There was nothing left to say. Without a word, he did

as he was told and stormed out of the operating room.

"Dr. Girardeau, could you-?"

"No!"

Anthony ignored the nurse and kept walking: Through the hall... Down the steps... Out

the door... Across the parking lot... He didn't stop until he reached his truck, ignoring thestares that his glove-encased hands and blood splattered scrubs attracted.

He climbed inside the cab and laid his head against the steering wheel, trying to contain

the sob he felt gathering in his chest.

"God-!" Anthony began, but he didn't know which prayer to say.

He felt that his whole life was crashing down around him, and he didn't know where to

turn for help.

Anthony looked out the frost covered window of the Clinic and tried to recall Father

Hardesty's exact words of advice, b

grace master

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