We Express Ourseleves Through Sin

Father Way spent the good majority of his time in the church office, the only exceptions being breakfast, lunch, dinner, and his varying bed time. For the most part, I spent my time finding new things to do by myself. It would probably be considered imposing if I interrupted his normal schedule anyways. I got back into the photography I had once abandoned, buying a laptop and photo editing software with the copious amount of money which was pretty much useless otherwise since Father Way insisted I needn't buy anything to help around the house. Currently, I sat alone at the back of the church while the priest rambled on through another Sunday service. Instead of taking interest in what the man said, or staring slack-jaw and slightly numb-minded at the way he stood, walked, talked.. and other things I'm sure I'd be sent to hell for, I wandered the isles quietly and snapped pictures. I captured the stained glass windows, the kids inching away from their parents to the great escape that was the play room, and the tight pin curls that elderly women had fixed their silver locks into for their Sunday attire. No one seemed to mind my scrambling around so I continued, getting a little closer to the choir and edging onto the edge of a front row pew to get a close-up on the man's face. He tried to ignore me, but ended up glancing at me every few minutes anyways. I snickered behind the lens and clicked a few shots before sneaking back to my spot. The sun was hitting the glass in the back of the church, reflecting rainbow stains onto dresses and dress shirts, making a beautiful opportunity for my editing skills. After a few more snaps, the woman in front of me turned and placed the collection plate on my lap. I jumped, pulling myself out of the scope of the cannon to see what was going on. The wicker was almost covered in currency. I glanced up to make sure Father Way wasn't watching and yanked my wallet out of the billowy pocket of my skirt, chucking three twenties onto the pile and walking to the next pew and handing it to a business man that sat there with his hands in his lap. His expensive pressed suit showed his wealth well, but he chucked the plate to the woman to his left. I turned around, minding my own business and sneaking behind Gerard and up the stairs to the house. I plugged my camera in and clicked the download button before taking off to the kitchen. The priest sat at the table already, I didn't know how he got there before me, but he always did. He sipped at a cup of coffee that I'm not supposed to see him drinking and read the news paper. An arrangement of cereals sat on the table. He only had Wheaties when I moved in a week ago, but over time, the stack had grown. Since I wouldn't tell him which one I preferred, he just added on with different verities from bran to marshmallows. I grabbed the Captain crunch and the wheat puffs and mixed them into a bowl before flopping across from him into a chair.
"What, you aren't going back into your office to eat?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He normally scuffled around through the cupboards for a long time before picking up the Wheaties off the table, taking about as much as a small bird would eat, and returning to his office until noon.
He shrugged "I was waiting for you."
I tilted my head to the side "Why?"
He reached under the low hanging hem of his shirt and presented his leather billfold, sorting out sixty dollars and flopping them into my hand. I sighed, letting my shoulders slump.
"I told you that you do not need to help out, so, don't worry about it." he nodded, pushing the money towards me and standing up to leave. I huffed and snatched the bills. How the fuck did he know? He wasn't even looking at the time.

~

As the week passed by, I made it my personal goal to spend more time with Father Way. Wednesday, I sat on the living room couch watching T.V., listening. At exactly eight thirty, the man's heavy shoes clopped down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Good afternoon Father Way." I called, throwing myself into a standing position and following him.
"Good afternoon, Ellie." he called over his shoulder. I got to the kitchen a few seconds behind him and perched on the counter, watching him go from the island, to the fridge, to the cupboard, and back to the island.
"So, what do you do up there all the time?" I asked, kicking my feet.
"I study the scriptures and write next week's service." he replied, stirring up some concoction.
"All day?" I questioned, "How could you do that alll day? You have to do something else up there, come on."
He simply shrugged, "I do a lot of things."
"Are they all important?"
"Not necessarily."
"Did you do them before I moved in?"
"Not necessarily."
"Come on, don't be an ass. I want to know why you never just sit around with me." I whined, hopping off the ledge and onto the tile to follow him closer.
"Well, I've found things to do." he dumped the bowl into a saucepan and turned, jumping when he found himself face to face with me.
"Father,nit's not very holy of you to leave me all bored and stuff as a guest."
"I told you to make yourself at home, and with your boisterous personality, I would assume you would take that to heart." he smirked, leaning back next to the stove with his hands buried in his pockets.
I cocked an eyebrow. "Are you getting testy with me?"
"Just stating facts." he shrugged.
I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. "You'll be sorry for that."
"You couldn't make me sorry if you tried." he smiled, turning away from me with what I could swear was a wink. Oh fuck you.

Notes

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