Sinners and Saints

Sinners And Saints Chapter 56 - You Dropped a Bomb On Me

I spend my time waiting for Drake and Mother Helena by emailing Bishop. 

“All ghosts returned safely and drug-free?” I ask. 

“Everything’s fine, Claire,” he assures me, “Angelito can handle the two of them just fine.  You’ll be back to the 1930’s when you get here.  Maurice and I have it all covered.  How was your meeting?” 

“Positive,” I reply back, “It will take a few weeks, but it’s approved.  Drake,” and I hesitate over this, because Bishop isn’t a very touchy-feely kind of guy, “Tried to propose to me afterward.” 

“Tried to?” 

“I jumped out of the limo and started throwing up before he could finish,” I tell him with a grimace. 

“Ouch.” 

“I know, huh?” I answer back, “It was just very – sudden.  I wasn’t ready.  I need to put the final piece in place there and pull out and recover first.” 

“And?” 

“What and?” I answer back, “My three assignments are done.  Sell the condo, buy a bigger place, adopt 4 kids and we’ll figure the rest out after that.” 

He doesn’t answer.  I don’t know what to say about that.  He may have been pulled away.  Bob could have fired up another joint or something.  Or Maurice might have needed him.  Doubtful, as Maurice is fully-capable of tearing out what he put up ten days ago on his own.  But maybe. 

Or Michael could have showed up early. 

It doesn’t matter, though.  Bishop can handle it.  I know that.  I log out just about the time that Drake opens the door, papers in hand. 

“Got a flight to catch,” he smiles at me, “Ready, angel?” 

“So,” Drake asks me after we level off and the fasten seat belts sign goes off, “Do you want to tell me what the hell happened back there?” 

“I’m so sorry,” I start, but he pulls the very wide armrest up so that our seats become a leather-clad love seat.  He turns toward me and I turn toward him, “I’m just so overwhelmed right now.  I still don’t believe it was that easy and I keep expecting something else to come up and ruin it.” 

“You call that easy?” he snorts, “What you pulled off is a miracle, angel.” 

“But you know what I mean,” I tell him as he takes my hand in his own, “Whenever anything good happens, something comes along to counteract it.  I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

“Ok,” he gives me his shit-eating grin, “How about we just wait until everything’s official and as soon as I have the papers in hand, I fly you to Vegas and we have an Elvis-wedding?” 

“Do you honestly think for one minute that Father Jonas is going to allow that?” I chuckle at him, “He would never forgive either of us if we didn’t have him marry us.” 

“I would think,” he says carefully, “That under the circumstances, you wouldn’t want a Catholic wedding.” 

I frown, trying to process what he’s saying.  Does he think that our marriage won’t last?  

“Why would you say that?” I ask him, a little hurt. 

“Because it would take too long,” he tells me with a soft smile, “You and I both would have to be confirmed first and then go through the marriage classes.  It would probably be another year at least.”