Chapter 19

The Mother of God Church was filled like never before. It was a medium size church, but Father Ewen was loved far and wide. Bishop McNulty said Father Ewen’s funeral mass along with Cardinal O’Hara, who flew down from New York to honor a monsignor who was murdered while administering the sacrament of confession. To honor Monsignor Ewen MacCailein, Cardinal O’Hara, Bishop McNulty, and Father Lopez performed the Tridentine Mass, a sung mass in Latin.

The scent of incense filled the air as Cardinal O’Hara led a procession through the gathered parish. He sprinkled holy water as he walked through the church, then returned to the altar. Steve Bellini-Anderson and Natalia Bellini-D’Amato were in attendance and Steve wept openly through the entire mass while Natalia sadly tried to comfort him. “He must have been a wonderful priest,” whispered Natalia.

“He was more than a priest,” said Steve. “He was a marine.”

The long discussions he had with Father Ewen came back to Steve, and the horror that it was over completely overwhelmed the young, broken warrior. Years ago, after Steve completed his degree at UF, Bruce invited him to apply at the local hospitals in the Vero Beach area. He got the job at Mercy General and was rooming with Bruce before he got his own apartment. All he really had to his name was a huge black truck (not a wise color choice in Florida) and a small gun collection. There was a Sig Sauer M17 9mm pistol that was “lost on the battlefield” along with an M24 sniper rifle chambered for 7.62x51mm ammunition and scope, “lost on the battlefield,” and an HK417 assault rifle also chambered for 7.62x51mm. The assault rifle, oddly enough, was given to him by an Afghani war lord who found it on the battlefield. The guns were mailed home in pieces and listed as “Machine Parts.”

Steve was introduced to Father Ewen by Bruce, who assured Steve that Father Ewen ‘gets it.’ Their first meeting was in Father Ewen’s office in the rectory, and while waiting for Father Ewen. Like Bruce did years later, Steve scanned Father Ewen’s library. It was filled with the works of Charles Spurgeon, a 19th century British pastor. He was reading a volume when Father Ewen stepped in. “Ah, Spurgeon, are you too a follower?”

“More of a fan. He put the most complex theological concepts in such simple, clear language,” said Steve. “I love this one, ‘My friends, it is one thing to go to church or chapel; it is quite another thing to go to God.’ That said so much in one sentence.”

“That truly was Pastor Spurgeon’s gift. Now, how can I help you,” asked Father Ewen.

“Oh, I’m not sure there is enough help available for me, I committed a lot of war. Just an ear to bend and a shoulder to cry on occasionally would be more than enough help.”

“And that is why we have confession,” said Father Ewen almost cheerfully.

“The bible says I should ask God for forgiveness, not some guy,” said Steve as he put the Spurgeon volume back on the shelf.

“And so, you should, it is so easy to get forgiveness from God, the hard part is to forgive yourself,” said Father Ewen as Steve turned to him. He saw the emptiness and sorrow in the young man’s eyes. “Maybe we should work on self-forgiveness. Come. Sit.”

That meeting started a wonderful friendship that Steve will always treasure. He once thought that if he had children of his own, he would talk with them like Father Ewen spoke to him. But now that’s impossible, there will be no children. Without Maria’s love, there is nothing.

Steve sat in his pew and thought of everything that Father Ewen ever said to him, and he was interrupted by Natalia nudging him. “Everyone is gone,” she said.

Steve looked around, as if being awakened from a dream. They were alone. “I need to say confession,” said Steve, and he got up and walked over to a side altar where a hundred or more tiny red votive candles flickered. He made the sign of the cross and took a wick and lit an unlit votive candle, then he put a dollar in quarters in the poor box. Steve looked up at the statue of St. Joseph and sighed. The stepfather of Jesus... “I know how you feel dude,” whispered Stephaton, the stepfather of Natalia, then he walked to the back of the sanctuary.

There was the Confessional where Father Ewen was executed by Alfeo Gronchi. It was cordoned off by a red rope to honor the place where a great man once breathed his last. He ducked under the rope and entered the right hand confessional. He knelt and made the sign of the cross in the dim little booth in the dim light and he glared at two holes in the privacy screen. They were from the bullets exiting Father Ewen. Steve closed his eyes and started like he was taught in second grade, “Forgive me father for I have sinned. It’s been eight days since my last confession. I failed to save my wife, and I failed to save you...”

His tearful confession went on for a long time, and Natalia waited for him. She sat in a pew across from the confessional as he confessed sins, both real and imagined, and she wished she had the courage to do the same. Father Lopez came back in and saw the little light above the confessional that Steve was in had lit up. He stood outside of the curtain listening to Steve and Natalia whispered, “Hey! That’s rude! Wait your turn.”

“What is he doing in there?” asked Father Lopez.

“He’s saying confession.”

“No, I mean, what’s he really doing in there?”

Natalia glared at him. ”Él está dicendo confesión. Would you like it in Italian? Sta dicendo la confessione.”

“That’s roped off, and there’s nobody in there with him.”

“Father Lopez, Steve only had two friends, Bruce, and Ewen. The last thing Ewen said to him last week was, ‘you may kiss the bride.’ He lost his wife and his friend on the same day.”

“Oh... Oh Dios,” groaned Father Lopez. They let Steve take his time, and eventually, he emerged from the confessional looking drawn and exhausted.

“Are you ready?” asked Natalia. He just nodded sadly, and she took his hand and led him out of the church to his truck, and Father Lopez followed. The truck was sitting alone in the parking lot, a black truck on a black day. Steve crawled into the passenger side of the truck, and Natalia climbed up to the driver’s seat. “Key?”

“It’s just an RF fob, press the brake and push the start button.”

She adjusted the seat, then started up the big truck. Father Lopez leaned in the passenger door and gently touched Steve’s shoulder. “Ewen used to tell me about his discussions with you. He never gave me any details, but the discussions gave him so much joy! I am so jealous of those rambling theological talks. I can only hope someday before I go to find a friend like you.”

“Thank you Father,” said Steve, but there was no life in his eyes.

Father Lopez closed the passenger door and Natalia put the truck in gear and they eased out of the parking lot. The biggest thing she had ever driven was a Toyota sedan. This felt like she was driving a huge semi through the tangle of narrow streets that makes up Vero Beach. “Are you going to be ok?”

“No,” whispered Steve.

They got to the Wave Front Suites where they rented a suite while their home was being rebuilt. Natalia loved staying in the camper, but she hated walking to the bathroom and really hated waiting for a shower to open up. Steve rented a two-bedroom suite with a kitchenette, but the second bedroom was just used to store their suitcases and clothes. “Come on, let’s get that suit off,” she urged as they got into their suite. She was wearing a plain black dress with a gold crucifix on a chain around her neck. Steve got a black blazer and trousers; he added a black shirt and black tie.

“I put a pizza in the oven,” said Natalia. “Pepperoni and mushroom. Mom said it was your favorite.”

“Thank you Natalina.”

“What? What did you call me?”

Steve was in his boxer shorts and black socks. “Huh? I called you Natalia.”

“No, you called me Natalina. Mom and dad called me that when I was good.” Natalia was in her bra and panties, and she unfolded an ironing board and fired up the hotel provided iron and ironed their clothes. They had another funeral in fourteen hours.

“Sorry,” muttered Steve.

“No, it’s ok, I like it.” While Steve watched a TV that was not turned on, Natalia finished ironing and hung their clothes up for when they would be needed again, which was tomorrow. When she was finished with the ironing, she put the board and iron away, then took the pizza out of the oven. “Do you want a Pepsi?” she asked as she pulled a soda out of the fridge.

“Sure.”

She brought him a piece of pizza and his soda. “Sorry, it’s a frozen pizza. We’re going to work on that when we get settled.” Steve could only nod. Natalia sat down next to him, turned on the tv and began eating her pizza, but the emotions of the day caught up with her and she leaned on his shoulder for just a moment. The next time she opened her eyes, she found she was in bed with Steve. He was awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering where it all went wrong.

Maria’s funeral was held at her church, Sacred Heart, on the day after Mother of God Church mourned the passing of Father Ewen. Steve had sleep-walked through the arrangements, and he allowed Fabbi, Jeannie, and Natalia to pick everything, but Steve insisted on one thing. Jeannie and Natalia had Maria’s jewelry box and were trying to decide what their mother should wear. Steve handed a pair of rings to Fabbi. “I want her to wear these and no other rings.”

“Those are dad’s rings,” said Jeannie.

“She still loved Giuseppi; I was ... an intruder on that love.”

“No!” cried Natalia. She clung to Steve’s arm and whimpered.

“You were never an intruder,” said Jeannie.

“You were there for her last summer, and you did so much for her,” said Jeannie as she patted his hand.

“I want Maria to be buried wearing her wedding ring from Giuseppe on her finger. She can wear my ring on a chain around her neck.”

“It will happen,” said Fabbi as she closed her hand around her sister’s rings.

Too soon, the day had come to say goodbye to Maria. Steve and Natalia were dressed and ready to go an hour before the limo came for them. Natalia looked over at the coffee table where they ate last night and saw Steve’s slice of pizza and his Pepsi was still untouched.

When Steve and Natalia entered the church, he was shocked to see that it was an open casket ceremony. Partially open, one of the two caskets was closed. “Come on,” whispered Natalia.

“I don’t want to.” Actually, Steve was afraid. He didn’t want to see Maria’s lifeless body.