We Express Ourseleves Through Sin

Gerard hadn't lied. He is definitely more than a priest he kept his language as expected for a man of the cloth, but he talked to me about life. Not his, which was annoying. But life in general. He consoled me about the previous events and nodded at all the right times when I rambled.
As we exited the church, he rested a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"You know, I haven't caught your name this whole time." he remarked, giving a hopeful smile.
"Sometimes that's a good thing." I winked, walking graciously down the last of the stone and throwing the door to my Cadillac DeVille open. With that, the engine roared to life and I sped off into what had turned into dawn over the last few hours. I would definitely be going to Wednesday service.

~

And that is just what I did. It has been two weeks now and I still attend service. Not as strictly as I first did, but I went. I still didn't give a single shit about what was being said, but Father Way intrigued me. I talked to him time and time again in his office, never getting any information about him personally. As I sat behind the cash register flipping through Vogue, my thoughts were elsewhere.. Wondering what was under that dumb clerical collar mainly. The back door to the joint opened and I jumped, sitting up and pretending to straighten things under the glass counter. I watched as McGill sorted his way through the shelves and picked up a few books that had free fell.
"Morning Mr. McGill." I quipped, brushing my hair back behind my ear and straightening the counter again. I looked up in time to see the man remove his dark brown bowler hat, his whitened hair falling around in a confused static.
"Mornin' Ms. Carnell." he greeted, running a hand through his hair and pulling up an old bar stool from the piles of junk in the thrift store.
"I'm afraid I be bearin' bad news." he sighed, gently placing his shaky hands on the cool glass of the counter that separated us.
"What would that be?" I implored, sitting up straighter to show I was interested. I hoped the best for Mrs. McGill as my heart palpitated.
"The shop... Well- I'm afraid the misses and I are going to have to close it all down.. It's been a good time, fifty years almost. But you know as well as we do that no one ever visits us anymore."
With that, the back door creaked open again and Mrs. McGill came through, holding her signature powder blue handkerchief between her thin fingers with her face bright pink from previous tears.
"If there's anything you'd like from the store," she began, making her way up to stand by her husband "then feel free to take it. We're going to have a hell of a time getting rid of it on out own."
Tears stung my eyes as I realized that the couple were serious. "No- no I really couldn't take anything from you.. How are you guys going to pay rent? Your bills? Taxes, necessities.... everything?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. "It's just not fair though."
"Lass, Ruth and I have plenty saved up to make it to the end and further." the man feigned a smile "The only one we're worried about is you."
A small sob escaped the misses lips as she put her hand on my arm. "We just know how many times we've had to help you out and-and we're so sorry Ellie. But running the shop's doin' more hurtin' than help." I let my head rise and fall in a nod, though I was sure I looked like a deer in the beams. The elderly woman produced a small manila envelope from her small handbag and sat it on the counter, pushing it across the glass to me.
"Here's your last pay-"
"And more." the man interjected.
"We would like you to not argue with us about this, please Ellie?" he pleaded. I nodded, feeling my lips purse to suppress a sob. It wasn't the fact that I was unemployed that made me so sad, it was the fact that these two had taken me in and helped me all these times.. had so much faith in this place.. and they were letting it go. "Feel free to collect some things you like, just dont take anything out of this box that's alr'dy in it." Mr. McGill nodded, turning with his wife to walk out the front door. Just as they made it to the threshold, Mrs. McGill turned.
"We are going to need some help moving on out." she called, "If you'd like to-"
"I'd love to." I nodded. With that, they left the store and me alone. I picked up the box and sat it on the floor, picking up the paper and tin box from the bottom. On the paper was a printed picture of the couple smiling. 'We love you, Ellie.' was written at the bottom. I wiped the tears from my eyes and opened the tin, finding a collection of various rock memorabilia stickers and patches at the bottom. I had always admired that little display they had, with the words 'not for sale, just look.' written on yellowed paper. Now I held it in my hands. The tears ran freely as I decided to take up the couples offer, shuffling the box across the floor and carefully examining shelves.

A few hours passed and I had driven home, pulling the box up the stairs and down the wood hall, finally finding my door. I fumbled for my keys and swung my hair looking up to see another note on the door. This time, it wasn't in handwritten print. Big, blocky, unkind, letters red
EVICTION NOTICE

Notes