Chapter 19: Nashville Redux

I arrived back in Nashville once again a whole man; my soul back from the tatters and in a single piece. I was content and everyone around me recognized it. Especially Maria.

“Well I’m glad that you are back and have your head out of your ass! So give me the details! You found her, right?”

So I shared my good news with Maria.

“Doc, I can’t say that I’m not a little disappointed that you and I won’t be getting it on anymore, but I’m glad that you managed to patch it up with your lady love!”

“I guess you’ll have to make due with Gary,” I replied, “but I can still reward the two of you with some of my blood to ... ahem, enhance your experience!”

“Thank god for small favors!” came Maria’s sassy response, “Speaking of which: do you need some blood from me, boss? It’s been quite a while...”

After Aurora’s contract was complete, she indeed returned to Nashville as well, stopping over in Chicago to see her parents for a day — only to find out that we had met in her absence while I desperately searched for her. Just a little embarrassing. She promised that we would all meet again in the near-term future.

She moved into my house and into my bedroom. She was as firm in her commitment to me as I was to her.

So, naturellement, we got married and lived happily ever after, non? Non.

Why is life never so simple?

Aurora and her parents were Catholic (as was I, at least nominally) and desired a church wedding with the Mass and all of the accouterments. I wanted to avoid a Catholic church wedding — especially some of the details such as doing a confession in order to receive the sacraments. My experience with such things were, as one might recall, revolting.

I needed to Priest to intercede for me because I knew that I was irredeemable and without forgiveness. God had turned his face from me.

Aurora argued with me. She pleaded with me. She nagged me. In the end I couldn’t turn her down, so I found myself in the office of the Parish Priest.

Of course I couldn’t actually tell him the entire truth, because he would believe that I was delusional or a pathological liar.

“Are you sure that you want your fiancée present while you give your confession?” Father Lopez asked.

“Yes, she knows everything about me — my sins, my virtues. She is one with me.”

“So, first, whoever told you that you had committed unforgivable sins?” Father Lopez asked me.

“I don’t remember his name, but it was long ago, during my youth. In France,” I replied.

“Ah!” the Priest said quietly. “There are some, shall we say, some Priests, especially in Europe — mainly Germany and France — who cling to almost medieval interpretations of scripture. But he was wrong.

“God in his wisdom will always grant grace and forgive your sins, so long as the sinner sincerely regrets the sin and will not just use grace as an excuse for continuing his sinful ways.”

“So what is the sin that is supposed to be unforgivable, in the eyes of this Priest?”

I was about to answer, probably in a most undiplomatic way. Instead, Aurora interjected herself into the conversation.

“Father, Christian’s so-called ‘sin’ is the result of a medical condition. It was not something of his own doing or of his own desire. It just happened, and if he wanted to live, he had to continue engaging in the practice, as he still does today.