Previously on Wings of Light:
--- *** ---
"Do not grin, you psychotic bastard! "Your whorish daughter and your bastard brother are finally imprisoned in a hospital for recovery. Huh? You think it's funny that your daughter and brother are sharing a hospital room together even earlier your brother was institutionalized in an asylum, because of me and my girls? I didn't know your family's tragedy is no laughing matter!"
"Drop the letter opener!"
--- *** ---
"I know this topic has nothing to do with the religion, but it has to do with our moral and value system as every one of a kind sinner seeking God's helping hand, holy light and offered second chance for a persistent battle with our hardships. First and foremost, leaving behind yar family and focusing on something more crucial like career, other lovers that toxically spoil yar marriage is like adding insult to an injury, you know! It's a sin to cheat on somebody even veiling the lie prominently in its cloth of sugarcoated innocence and impossible detection of the truth. As an ex-nun who was raised in a nuclear family with a single mother working a handful of jobs to provide for me and herself, my father left us when I was barely five years old. Yeah, his ongoing pleasures of the free lifestyle dominating over the love and the duties of dedication to the family made me questioned why I was never loved or at least sensing the genuine notion of that magnificent feeling that naturally oozes of your heart. I always thought as a little girl that I and my mother were never good enough and why on the earth it happens to us. Well, here's the answer. The criminally sinful people like my father that are far cry from caring about the family even to bestow with modicum of altruistic support to extend our survival chances even allowing ourselves to be pampered. He thinks it's not a good idea to help his family. He thinks his lovers and his gold digging character will aid him to dig its grave of my mother's tough parenthood. He dug that grave, howsoever, did his lovers loved him back and granted him whatever he yearned for? Did his Genies willed to fulfill his wishes after chanting to their lamps what he actually wanted? Huh?"
"After being through a lot of hardships in the form of heartbreaks, loneliness and salty tears regularly even dark past that is barely shadowed in its mantle of pitch-black darkness to obscure the very segments of my very being, I became a nun. That was some kind of redemption for me to be God's refugee and servant in the same time. I never believed in the true love or at least to find it somewhere in the church. In the very outskirts of the church. All I wanted was a family and I found it after the priest that was in charge of the facility we ran together and he genuinely counted on my experience, intelligence and strictness, there were strong points linking our bond and reckoning the chemistry's potential myriad of privileges even when we are still young." Due to my coveted wish of having family and at least one child to teach and love, it helped me to diminish the chances of beholding Satan's face once I no longer occupy this world. It was an effective medicine. Anyway getting back to my early childhood when I was a half orphan living in a modest household when my father left us, God was constantly conveying its crucial message that my father will go to hell and he will face his judgmental day the day when he disappears either for better or worse. It will be his lesson to rot in hell after leaving a family behind because of his selfishness to chase corrupted women that could satiate fleetly his physical needs, but how about the spiritual ones? Think about it! I and my husband had galore of tribulations, in order to harmonize everything in our family when we couldn't even stare at one another or at least I couldn't at him for more than a few seconds except irking me the way he shot that gaze or glance at me. I knew so far we had a second chance to harmonize and fix the things. We did it! We still do it! He didn't leave me for another woman when I had tough periods of time to fulfill his needs and the patchy void he's wearing beneath and outside him. Because he wasn't as weak as the other partners do to replace anything that they dearly love and strongly believe the things will be repaired slowly but surely. I did the mistake of temporarily replacing him with a man that I believed would be better than him, however, I was completely wrong. It was proved in the manipulative mannerism and excessive flattery I earned smoothly. It was bolt from the blue when I truly fathomed the genuine notion of a difference between a gentleman and a manipulator being capable of foul snow job. It taught me a tremendously utmost lesson. If yar on the verge of moving on in yar life between repairing the impossible- toxic relationship and having potent motives of taking the initial steps of escaping the held grudges and rage; and finding a new love interest that would share similar interests as yours for example, you cannot change the person you once pearly loved. Ya cannot change the others unless yar capable of changing yourself even a little bit at least."
--- *** ---
"You aren't an awful person! Trust me! There's something leery interweaving its elastic strings of your marionette self. It's not your fault at all, Martha! It's not your fault, because you are still young and fresh. Your life experience and knowledge are crying for learning and discovering undiscovered realms and world and you are far cry from unforgivable than your father whom tried to freeze me to death in the fridge... You remember?"
"Mhm!"
--- *** ---
The prominently authentic, celestially comforting presences of the electrician and his cousin in the hospital room during their insisted visit granted a hope to the young medical student. A divinely aureate halo hovered the young medical student's head invisibly invincible and inundating her with the holy light of unconditional love, wholehearted warmness and longed comfort as if God baptized her in its own holy light, despite the relentless circumstances of wearing the inevitably recurring title of a sinner.
In first place with Morgan Jill and Andy's arrival altered ultimately Martha's hopelessness hazing her very thoughts and gaze. It felt like a heartwarming, frigidly disquieting moment that could alter and compensate years of being nothing than her father's marionette. It was actually speaking volumes and leaking the true colours of its sanctum of changes. It was a medley of sentiments, emotions and facial expressions, greatly melding altogether to form its crafted one of a kind exemplar. The exemplar of the genuine emotional side of a single scenario that was not only strongly stirring, but also possessing the ability to nimbly alter unceasingly the juvenile brunette's life rapidly rabid as if everything seemed much different than just a mere prospect of two inner circle members paying a visit to her and her uncle in the medical facility. Last but not least, Martha has being inspected by doctors with an ultrasound test daubing gingerly her meager bump after scarcely feeling the baby and having the extreme fear of losing it after hopping out of the Vermont State Hospital's window of the first floor that was a handful of feet inching the yard. The results were fatalistically shocking that she hasn't lost her unborn baby yet and the sex of the baby has already leaked, in fact, Martha was expecting a daughter.
Even though Morgan Jill and her younger cousin have exchanged with each other embarrassingly livid moments where their adrenaline fiercely subjugated any other sentiment and emotion pumping into her veins and petite-frame, they have never despised each other and have demonstrated fluently any wee inkling of abhorrence of each other for their different characters and backgrounds. The Romanian compatriot has always kept an eye through the years due to the juvenile brunette's absence in her and Andy's life how her closest relatives treat Martha and how they perpetually affect her attitude and character in general.
"W-Where you have been during all that time?" Quietly sobbing and severely straining her parchment, young-looking complexion with ocean of crystalline translucent salty beads of tears, whereas their heavy, uneven heart pulsations synced the rhythmical tandem , articulating their silver-tongued pulses unceasingly. The pungent scent of medicine, bandages and blood refreshingly steeped generously the site. "I'm genuinely thankful I found you somehow or at least the fate reckoned our prominent union." In spite of Martha's atheism and not sticking to have modicum of belief in the religion, anyway her bountiful belief in the fate's presents seeding its own wights of either surprises or woes never ceased to vanish in the thin air and bring her dose of news about the forthcoming events, regardless their tragedy or heavenly paradise.
"I tried my best to find you where you wouldn't be findable and it was a solemn evidence," A prominently cold-blooded pause stung the searing cataract of doldrum the both siblings exchanged mutually, whereas the Romanian compatriot's naturally roseate, cherub lips managed to thoughtfully purse, scarcely replacing the broad, vibrantly poetic smile embellishing remarkably her parchment complexion. "You weren't there where I would search for you or any remnants of your very presence, Martha!"
In a long minute of resiliently deft silence settling conveniently in the hospital room as the sole hitched breathing fantastically blended with the heart monitor's humdrum indication through its alarming pip jingling alarming tones in the trio's flexible ears, subsequently the both siblings withdrew their figures from the kindheartedly tight, soothing hug.
"Don't worry about me, dear! I'm right there." Pinching widely opened their eyelids, consequently the medical student's dry, strawberry-coloured tongue conjugated clumsily sloppy the wimpish, blatantly stark quiet coo after the persistent clash of vowels and syllables engulfing the fat of her tongue, registering to protract her elvish, unhealthily pallid hands to cup the electrician's well-sculptured, chubby cheeks and offering him a benevolently dim, doe smile, tugged at the corner of her chapped, rosy-coloured lip. "You can see me in a whole view. In a whole view of tower. In a whole view of a landscape. In a whole view of paradise." The trembling, dim motion of her voice reproducing her honeyed whisper tingled angelic anthems into her older brother's ears, pawing boyishly coy her brittle knuckles and transfixing his cinnamon brown big, roundish gemstones on his younger sister's pallid, refreshingly young-looking face, admiring her crispy, dainty facial attributes constructing her facial anatomy and ethereal beauty platonically. "You are going to be an uncle of my little precious right there." In the meanwhile, the brunette snatched violently, forcefully Andy's colossal, reassuringly warm hand to claw delicately, potently affectionate her small bump as his ogle fixated on the bulky abdomen, admiring the overwhelming surprise. "It will be due in November. You have still time to reflect on the overwhelming process how your sister becomes a mother for initial time. Somebody has to be also either the godmother or godfather of this little precious angel."
"I'm still wondering how did you persevere and you are still standing from the ground even after the severe affliction you've stepped its sticky surface and clamming your palms from the ounce of the tribulations, burdening your hands." At the moment, the fashion designer crooked her spidery delicate fingers to tuck a fistful of disruptive, chestnut locks behind her younger cousin's petite, flexible ear on reflex, while mumbling the reassuring ministration of admiring the younger lady's persistent, profound nature for lingering her stamina and strength's versatility and radiance, coupled with dodging the fears and prejudices of chunking ruthlessly reckless to assimilate the genuine notion of the life's fights for her own justice. "I remember how when we're so young just two weeks before Christmas at least, you couldn't stop begging even clashing with me to get back your favourite stuffed animal." The balmy warmness spiking Martha's body temperature mirroring invisibly her actual condition zapped the pit of her stomach and squinting up her doe, harmlessly tearily puffy cinnamon brown optics at Morgan Jill's silver-amber. Cinnamon and silver-amber linking together graciously. Explicitly unavoidable, stormy flashbacks of the both cousins' early childhood dipped the barren surface of their thoughts and thickly, generously deluging the dryness with the myriad of memories pinching their lower eyelids at the frequently tinting scenarios of the casual mid-December day back in the late 40s. "That was nothing compared to the hardships you're being through at the moment, Martha! That was just an infantile action to question your stubbornness to put it mildly. It's extremely apparent how persistent you're and you're about to fight for whatever you believe it's right for you and banish everything that weakens you and doesn't actually impacting its greatly fantastic influence to improve your character and your very own being." The series of featherly-soft, recklessly blatant snores pumping the older gentleman who was deeply asleep on his own patient bed, cozily fizzling his muscles to daub the clean, oyster-white bed sheets and cotton blanket donning his large frame, pitched light-heartedly the site even though the trio managed to evade any interactions or associations with Sebastian's senseless condition.
"I've to second it and your words are indeed encouraging, sparkling its brilliantly crystal star of hope to grant me a little bit hope in whatever I believe." A soothingly sympathetic, tearful smile dawdled to permeate the brunette's pink lips and removing her paws from her older brother's well-carved cheek and hand, gearing the humdrum choir of blinks, pinching her cocoa brown cabochons. "Because I know what I have to do. Sticking to loving myself and the others that really banish the doubts and fleet rumors about me from the nobodies surrounding us and they believe me even without proving a small piece of evidence of the muddy woes." The series of crispy stutters due to the hitched breathing melding brilliantly with the severe, perky heart pulsations throbbing into the younger woman's frail ribcage, while stifling a guttural, blandly amused gasp due to the mood swings' dynamic roller coaster boiling fiercely the myriad of impulsive, healthily normal emotions overflowing her thoughts to assimilate rationally their notion and to ferociously, categorically denuding their true colours. "The people that love me will always believe me even if I didn't do the best or they are leaning to disagree with my decision."
In a long minute of comforting, unruffled silence suffocating devilishly inevitable the grandiose medical façade's walls except the hitched breath, the hysterically rabid heart hammers and the heart monitor indicating the middle-aged gentleman's heart only composed the dull, uninteresting symphony of each patient room's commonly encountered atmosphere. Eerie, yet soothing ambience sprawled profusely electrifying goosebumps pebbling their epidermis. A hush was worth a thousand word a few pages book or essay to depict the realistic illustration of the poetic, esthetic nature and character in each poured paragraph, sentence and word, etched with a thick, sufficient thinness of the etched letter formulating the creator's vivid imagination and bright words saturating the illustration with richer nuances that tinted every reader's vision and chaotic vortex of thoughts who became a victim of the breathtaking authenticity of its author.
"Take these!" All of a sudden, the electrician snatched from his conveniently casual, practical leather jacket's pocket a small magenta velvet box along with a tiny, adorably dark brown plush teddy bear with an embroidered lily-white T-shirt and retrieved his younger sister's wrist to manipulate her palm cupping the handed entities creamily tender, benevolent until she grasped her fingers to ball her presents unknowledgeable.
"Are they really for me?" Hoarsely frank chuckle dripped from her mouth and loosened her grasp to survey in a scrutiny the stuffed teddy bear, broadly spreading her vibrantly content, sunny smile across her nude pink lips, whereas the miniature box perched motionlessly idle on her blanketed lap.
"Yes! A present for you and for the baby," Ushering his wet, berry-coloured tongue to lick greedily his baby-pinkish, cherub lips while Andy and Morgan Jill fixated their friendly fervid gems to contemplate through the translucent sanctum of the medical student's genuine, fascinatingly initial reaction towards her presents by Andy. "Even if I weren't informed about the pregnancy and looking forward to being an uncle, take for granted my very first presents for you as my sibling that takes a special place in my heart platonically."
"T-This is," Casting her childlikely doe, tearily crystalline cinnamon brown depths to drink the majestically delightful, heartwarming vista of not only fingering and playing with the stuffed animal in her scooped grip, further her childishly excessive curiosity to discover inside the velvet miniature box's wee entity with bracing her pristinely delicate fingers to enter the cover, whilst parting her feebly glossy, satin lips in a soft O, bearing a semblance of a marvelously breathtaking, heartwarming illustration of a marriage proposal when the fiancée discovered Pandora Box's paradoxally romantic mysteries. Namely the compact, amorously wonderful proposal ring. "Beautiful! It wasn't necessary at all, Andy! I can't thank you enough for today and the presents." As soon as velvet box's cover no longer swathed the entrance, subsequently a simple artistically fabulous necklace with a crystal moonstone caught off guard and Martha managed to grind her teeth to chew on the inside of her cheek, opting to sort her mind during the breathtakingly elating moment of not only beholding her last hopes she hasn't seen for years, but also being gifted with remarkable items that has Sebastian, nor Cayden haven't given to her since her adolescence. "I don't deserve either of you hospitability."
"The life is too short for regrets and apologies, Martha! Just try your best to overlook anything that hinders you to think clearly and contemplate through the pink curtain of yourself."
"Morgan," When the brunette's wet, berry-coloured tongue struggled clumsily to conjugate a mouthful of vowels and syllables in her impending utterance, the suddenness of crooking her orthodoxy palish, dainty fingers to cradle the simple necklace with moonstone pendant faintly trembled in her grip.
"You deserve the best! Your father took advantage of you. You ain't blamed for anything." Meantime, the older lady maneuvered her elvish, soothingly creamy hands to paw affectionately the brunette's dainty, fragile shoulders when Martha faintly, girlishly ducked her head, barely facing her older brother and cousin altogether. "There's always a hope to start new either today or within five months. It's up to you."
"I lied to the authorities for a sexual assault and non-consensual touch by the ex-priest after I taunted him to catch his attention in such childish way."
"That's forgivable for your lie though you were on the verge of the trouble that isn't strongly recommended for anybody if they don't wish to savor the bullets of the aftermaths of their impulse!" The suddenness of the young man bubbling a sharp exhale from his ribcage pitched fleetly, clumsily the site while Morgan Jill ushered the grapple of her both elvish hands pawing her younger cousin's shoulders to squeeze firmer, emboldening to grant her myriad of optimistic persuasion and vast boldness to persevere the galore of imminent ordeals blocking her way.
"But I'm on a trial in a month at least and I don't even have any idea what kind of daily problems they're both having. That ex-priest and his wife!" Suddenly the medical student's smile petered out and an eerie flat line grotesquely etched past her nude pink mouth, whilst furrowing her eyebrows and flicking up her cinnamon brown embers to maintain an appropriate eye contact with her both family members. The twain of cinnamon brown embers ignited the fiercely wild, inescapable flames of pangs of the conscience of her mistake situated a couple of weeks ago at least, due to her false accusation of Timothy Howard in something he could never be capable of degrading not only his family image and reputation, but also his in general. Non-consensual touch and sexual assault. The young woman could hardly picture the genuine, explicit portrayal of redeeming herself through her ordinary apology towards the Howards for the libel. She couldn't even envision the epitome of a second chance whom she has severely damaged even verbally that foreshadowed the sequence of the authorities' involvement and potently chastity of believing the accused side. "It's too late to banish that trial I'm going to face in a month. They are far cry from weak and vulnerable to even believe little to none of anything I could claim as the naked, versatile truth."
"You're young yet but be careful what are you seeding, because that's what are you going to harvest eventually." Rubbing on circles on reflex, the fashion designer rested her forehead against the medical student's, pursuing eagerly for her gaze while the brunette's manifested to shake her head ceaselessly, conscience-strickenly.
"My goose is cooked. I'll harvest whatever I have already seeded from that case."
"Shhh, shh, shh, beauty!" At the moment, the fashion designer retrieved stealthily the moonstone necklace from Martha's grip and neatly manipulating her fingers to work on the waterfall of greasy chestnut strands to fully curtain the left part of her profile, whilst trying to doll her up with her present and cooing honey-mouthed, reassuringly. The recalcitrant attempts of the Romanian compatriot to mute her younger cousin's pessimistic, hopeless protests and pleas blatantly, sloppily sailing out of her tongue. "Better keep your tongue behind your teeth when it's truly worth to save yourself from troubles that taunt you to play with the fire!" Twirling her tongue tip poking Morgan Jill's upper plumpish lip mischievously, light-heartedly, her finger digits and fingertips worked on buckling the necklace circa Martha's delicate expanse. "Here we go! Happy Birthday, the most beautiful woman!" Then the Romanian compatriot's lips parted in the tad scoff and perching them on top of the patient's button nose to press a platonically tender, wonderful peck after babbling the reminder with its persuasive message conveyed to her to change the topic eventually.
--- *** ---
--- A Couple of Hours Later or So ---
As soon as Madeleine finished her shift in the flower store, subsequently she ventured to the local chapel after having an arranged appointment with Father Kellan Teagan whom he bumped into in the site she's working with Andrea and Cassandra. Oddly, they traded mutually for a few minutes a couple of words while the man of the cloth purchased a couple of premature charcoal gray magnolias and fuchsia and rubicund dahalias for the yard of his conveniently compact cottage that was a few minutes apart from the Howards' privately owned property. In order to diminish the stormy tempest of prejudices and rueful incredulity of the Michiganian, the clergyman introduced himself and claiming that he's an old friend of the former devotional members of the clergy that were on a honeymoon in Adams, Tennessee.
When the daily daylight episode slowly but surely passed at snail's pace to bled into the soothingly nocturnal hues of the early night looming its starless artistic, realistically raw vista of full moon lonely godforsaken, starkly accompanied the pitch-black darkness, the ill-famed creak of the monumentally polished double door of the chapel bewailed dully as the juvenile blonde ventured inside the interior and horrifying emptiness embracing her very presence while her docilely feminine, repetitive footsteps murmured against the floor. The uneasy ticking hours on the wall clock taunted her fleetly nimble glance to imbibe the recent time, gauged approximately 7 and a half o'clock.
A phone call that collocated once for today between Madeleine and the wed couple kept updating one another about the Howards' honeymoon destination experience and their forthcoming plans for today while the Michiganian apprised them about her older sibling and the ginormous, dedicated cares he is taking of Stephen along with their two-story mansion along with her plans for today and the bizarre, arcane visit she received from Father Kellan Teagan. Her stomach turned at the thought of the bizarre clergyman that paid a visit to Madeleine and Jude's workplace in mid-afternoon though the couple kept her wits about Kellan who's actually their old friend especially Timothy's former co-worker.
Even though the impending interaction between the Michiganian and the holy priest, her stomach turned at the thought of the harmlessly innocent appointment with a figure of Jude and Timothy's past lives, despite her lacking interactions with him even before. He was just an old friend of the former devotional members of the clergy. There aren't supposed to be any concerns about Father Kellan Teagan's identity. He's just a holy priest like his co-workers and the former avatar of Timothy.
Despite the fact Madeleine was leaning to agnostic when it comes up to her beliefs and religion, the Howards overlooked her agnostic nature and beliefs even if their friendship dawdled its prominent, extraordinary stability. Her last visit in the hallowed building where she couldn't be labeled like the other pious huge army of nobodies that were either attending regularly or once a week for prayers and the masses, was when she's a young adolescent approximately a couple of years ago. By judging her background, her parents are strict, immensely pious Catholics unlike their heirs or rather the future generation's representatives Roman and Madeleine gathered altogether. Roman has never demonstrated whether a dim interest or lukewarm inkling in the religion and to feel connection with the majority of the nobodies. So as his younger sister does. That was one of the crucial reasons why the both siblings alienated perpetually from their families and bestowed themselves a fresh start in Hartford, Vermont for a better life, better future and refreshing their absolute reality even if they have to share a property together and commence from the beginning to strive for their survival instead of relying on their strict Catholic parents' gracious aid.
Furthermore, what has tremendously fiery unnerved the Wilson siblings' parents was how the juvenile blonde accused the Catholics, the diocese and the religion in general in fanatical hypocrisy and ambiguous standards of their lives which nobody knows behind the doors of their homes and the chapel they regularly separate modicum of their chaotic daily schedule's time to pray and be part of the sacred community. A frigidly virulent ball curled in the pit of the blonde's stomach and green, bleak nausea submerging her lower abdomen at the thought of the austerity of the Catholicism and their unspeakably blowminding, arcane secrets whose skeletons haven't leaked out of the closet yet.
As young children, every time the both siblings were obligated to participate in the remarkable company of George Kennedy and Shirley Edna, throughout the mass's phenomenal process monotonously jingled its alarming tones into the youngsters' ears, resembling as if they were passing an enormous mass of strangers while roaming the streets hastily. Even the thought of contemplating through the translucently warm jewels of the nuns and priests that flicked up at the Wilsons' additions, blazing their sheer, sacred benevolence that brightly contrasted to the glassily lukewarm darkened gazes of Madeleine and Roman, bearing a semblance as if the contrasts between good and evil collided apocalyptically, light and darkness lethally dueling each other for domination, life and death cusping the half dead body of the persistent warrior of the life, striving for his own survival.
The church's common ambient permeated its eerie coziness for the young woman who rumbled silently, resiliently calm. The megawatt amplify of her heart pulsations scotching her brittle ribcage synced her eardrums to assimilate the tension of her humdrum flimsy heart's stubborn work. The genuine sentiment of meager adaption and the foreignness luxuriously immersing its cataract in the Michiganian's incessantly overflowing blood in her veins and nurturing her muscles inflamed the fierce trembling motion, manipulating lightly her weathered, alabaster fingers.
"Father Kellan?"In the meanwhile, vowels and syllables hesitantly builded the bashfully demure, twitched wail of the Michiganian whilst surveying in a scrutiny the chapel's interior with categorically stiff-necked trek and circling circa the exquisitely polished, invisibly vague dusty pews. "Are you there?"
In a long minute of resiliently awkward, stiff-necked doldrum conveniently asphyxiating the walls, the haphazardness of the heavy rain sloppily slapping the shut windows and exterior walls didn't taunt to twitch any motion of Madeleine's functioning muscles of her frail skeleton. There was no absolute response to her hesitant inquiry. Wasn't there?
When darting a fleet, dexterous glance at the wall clock, consequently the flower store saleswoman seated on the first pew in the right row, knotting her fidgety, dainty fingers in the grip of her frequently bouncing leg's denim dark jeans-clad thigh, licking greedily, gamely her lips to provide them with healthy, refreshing moisture. The soft fat of her wet, berry-coloured tongue twirled the circular manipulation until the door on her right whined freely, broadly opened at the vista of the older gentleman's conservatively ecclesiastical, dark wool outfit-clad larger frame conveyed the friendly reminder to the flower store saleswoman to fixate her stare on him, subsequently biting embarrassingly her tongue and dodging to corrode its rigidly stoicism texture to highlight prominently, authentically sore her youthful, gorgeous facial attributes.
"You have to be Madeleine!" At the moment, the older gentleman manifested with his mammoth, veiny hand the young lady trade mutually its space in the recent site which he occupied with his very presence. Throughout a docile, diligently humble nod in solemn agreement reaffirmed the Michiganian's emphatic position to confirm her identity, she lifted up her peachy rear from the lackered, comfortable pew and ambling up to Kellan Teagan. "It's good to see you at this moment of the day."
"Good evening, Father! It's also amazing to see you."
Once the both adults populated the sufficiently expansive site and the notoriously squeaky door slammed shut within a moment after Kellan gentlemanly, kindly held aside the door for the current church visitor, consequently he ushered her to a seat against him.
"You may take your seat, miss Wilson!"
"Thank you!" A sympathetically candid, luxurious smile bloomed upon the man of the cloth's pale-pinkish, voluptuously plumpish lips spreading his oral slit's thick, wonderfully fabulous bleed shedding in its beaming saturation of his benevolently calm nature, pale enough to illuminate his handsome facial attributes. "I'm genuinely flattered by your hospitability."
"Needless to be!" The mirthfully irony of the boyish, gentle chuckle of Kellan Teagan gracefully chafed his northern lilt, whereas his rear perched on the cherry wood, comfy chair after pulling it towards the table and barely inching its distance. "Forgive me for my oblivion or whatever you may call it, but I'm truly glad you're a friend of Timothy and Jude!" Shortly after crafting the excuse of his oblivion, consequently the clergyman's pristinely meaty, youthfully nimble fingers waltzed to apt to tandem around his transparent glass of water and lifting it up as his mouth grazed gingerly the glass material while gulping a handful of tiny, fresh sips to hydrate his tongue and oral caverns, whereas the Michiganian registered a bold bob of her head in solemn agreement, elaborating an optimistically cunning grin, curving her lips balefully in a wide O to leak her appealingly pearly-white teeth glittering its unblemished, diabolical luster past the older man's lapis lazuli huge, roundish gemstones. The mischievously merry twinkle of the beamingly huge, inviting and luminous grin of the juvenile lady scintillatingly dazzled the middle-aged gentleman's azure blue bijous, admiring her refreshing radiance and brutal honesty. "Would you like a glass of water?"
"No, thank you! I'm totally fine without it, Father!" Meantime, the Bostonian managed to lessen the proximity they traded with one another as his delightfully parchment still young-looking complexion dimly stretched the frail thinness of the elasticity of their appropriately maintained eye contact, linking their optics kindheartedly when he left aloof the glass of translucent liquid on the table. The polite rejection of the harmless offer for a glass of water didn't cease to astonish the older man and astoundingly stilling its mirth battering his complexion even though the young lady tried to not show any inkling of crude rudeness whilst rejecting kindly an offer whenever she didn't feel the need of hydration at all.
"It's fine! The last time when I met them especially my old friend Timothy was around Christmas."
"Mhm!"
"And they seemed to pretend as if they're actually a family after the tribulations they have being through the past weeks and months." Vividly scintillating, explicit flashbacks of the last Christmas when Father Kellan Teagan beheld the former pious members of the church personally along with their little cherub angel flashed its tempest of memorable reminiscence sousing his ocean of thoughts. The vivid reminiscence of how the former members of the clergy four months ago astounded gruesomely the Bostonian the bright contrast of Jude and Timothy's relationship while they were still loyally, docilely serving the cloth of chastity and the contemporary bounding that was leaning to rivals living under one roof together. It still plagued with scourge of venomous, lethal discomfort at the very thought of Jude and Timothy's regular bickers they staged when they weren't even wed yet and before Christmas's day behind the walls of their property. "Ironically, they really resemble a married couple for a few decades without shadow of a doubt though their controversial relationship after Briarcliff and the mess mudding them!" Clicking repetitively inward, surreptitious her perky tongue, Madeleine clawed graciously her crossed leg, bobbing recurringly each word slipping sloppily from the older gentleman's mouth. Softening stoicly the flower store saleswoman's alabaster face and mopping off neatly her grin into a grave, thoughtfully attentive thin line, decorating her oral slit. "I was wondering how they are doing nowadays like at least three months after seeing them the last time."
"They're doing wonderfully! Everything is heavenly pink for them even if they have disagreements sometimes. They're trying their best to dedicate themselves to the happiness that the celibacy abstain them for a long time."
"Interesting! I'm guessing they've seeded their rueful seeds of perseverance and they're harvesting whatever the hard work cost them as well." All of a sudden, a sinister pause stung the pairing as the Michiganian flicked her hazelish-brown depths to survey in a scrutiny the room studiously as it was uniquely furnished for a site part of the church's architecture. Two double tables coupled with a couple of chairs, two large sized luminously clean windows that once glossily glittered until the unavoidable heavy rain invincibly streaming its crystalline, woefully salty tears to dump its sea of transparent, tiny blotches excavating the panes. Notwithstanding the pale yellow painted walls and the nefariously ominous wooden planked flooring, a marbled maroon-sable stripped vase with gardenias sat in the middle of the both double tables, whereas a handful of acrylic grandiose paintings battered to the wall remarkably, opulently embellished the site. In addition to the site's decoration wasn't also forsaken the counter with a coffee machine pinning the smooth surface and chest of drawers consisting paradoxal mysteries inside them.
The pungent fragrance of gardenias, coffee and cinnamon swiftly, pleasantly suffused the thin, elastic air momentarily and Madeleine inhaling inwardly, surreptitiously the hedonistically pleasurable aroma of the compound, teasingly ticklish impaling her wee, flexible nostrils.
The peaceful horripilative ode of the soar heavy rain and the nonchalant, tuneful hush composed its own symphony of serenity, prickling electrifying goosebumps to pebble Kellan Teagan and Madeleine's thin epidermis. Myriad of unconditional relief and mellifluous felicity immersed the heat in the pit of their stomachs to relish each elapsing second of the torrent.
"I didn't mean to be a gossiper, however, I'm struggling with something for months after they left the church for better life and the freedom they weren't able to afford during their vows."
"What are the problems you're facing on your own, Father?" Shaking a meaty, masculinely strong forefinger after addressing him formally, thus an enormous flood of great bewilderment and nonplus fatly pooled her abdomen and cooling the untouched, paradoxally arcane areas, whereas the heart pulsations' passionate amplification heatedly thudded in her torso and escalated rapidly rabid, catching her bottom plump lip between her front ivory teeth to nip at the raw spot. "Is your reputation menaced or something else?"
"It's not about me," A heavy, disquiet sigh handily bolted from his brittle lungs, sipping continuously from the glass of water to hydrate his oral caverns and tongue, while a generous blush teasingly darkened the hue of his porcelain, still young-looking complexion and dimmed headstrongly cloudy his azure blue bijous. The apparentness of the luminous glint pearly leaked the hazardous prejudices conveying its cue to the young woman that something truly, gravely bothered the Bostonian whilst perusing warily his facial features in no time. The aftermaths of the former aspiring Monsignor's gloomy past and skeletons in the closet's mystique streamed icily, relentlessly the avalanche of worries, weighing off on separate scale his light-heavy wrinkles dimpling his eyelids and nose. The soar revelations' current progress of elaboration on his tongue tip were bittersweetly savored by the older gentleman, attempting to sort his mind and steadily assimilate and overthink what kind of rumors pitched the chapel before fleeing for Hartford and the newspapers he's read daily cautiously and keeping his wits about the daily news via the journalists' imaginative minds forging their writings for the accessible major mass of the general population. "It has to do with Timothy and it's not just the rumors I have had enough after leaving Boston for Hartford, in fact, there were former co-workers of mine that couldn't keep their tongue behind their teeth for such blatant gossiping behind his back."
"That's detrimentally unacceptable what they did. I thought they somehow had some kind of respect for him or you at least."
"Howsoever, once he made the final decision to take the reins of his freedom with Jude and their child," Clearing gruffily his throat with a cough as the heel of his hand manipulated the palm to muffle the afflictively appalling noise when thickness engulfed his Adam's apple. "I stood for him when the gossips begun in the sort of he's having a town pump's baby and he was raped by the demon inside that young nun." Stifling a murderously uncommon, frosty gasp to fasten the young lady's lungs while unhealthily, chaotically absorbing in the recently ugly, truthful revelations of Father Kellan Teagan's venomously serpentine tongue conjugation as its severe, fatal burden constricted once his torso and it bubbled up from his tense muscles. "Even in the newspaper article how he and you became Hartford's heroes for calling the police on the infamous serial killer Cayden Gray and saving Jude from his demolishing house was labeled Timothy as a victim of rape forward."
A long minute of apocalyptically rational doldrum consumed the walls of the site whilst the Michiganian could hardly believe not only Father Kellan's ex-colleagues ambiguous attitude after the former aspiring Monsignor's resign from the diocese and its ecclesiastical duties, but also the relentlessly hard-hearted, sharply acerbic journalists' venomously foul fingers daubing on the typing machine their forthcoming articles with labeling somebody's image to be a blot on the landscape in the major mass of the nobodies' eyes. Grimace flourished ruthlessly on the Michiganian's parchment, freshly youthful complexion and the mirth fell off from her attributes that once were victimized by her scintillating, divinely delightful youthfulness.
Meanwhile, the Bostonian lifted up his rear from his seat, in order to boil some water for the black tea in the kettle for his recent visitor, whilst the blonde examined studiously with her peripheral eye the surroundings, nibbling her lower cherub lip demandingly fiendish, cocksurely. Her blood boiled ferociously at the clergymen and journalists' hypocrisy and surreptitiously plotted conspiracies against the image of the British compatriot. A toxic cauldron brewed and cooked the fresh volcanic avalanche of immense contempt and assertive, inhumane resentment how the former members of the church were harvesting the scandalously stoic, barbarous woes and labels behind the pressmen and servants of God. Fortunately, Father Kellan Teagan was the only source to inform her and the Howards about the imminent rumors endangering balefully the family's reputation and image in the strangers' eyes that could scarcely get to know them except dripping their fiercely sticky, stoutly dreadful nicknames and gossips that aren't even associated with the absolute reality of the present realm the British compatriot traded with the former sleazy jazz nightclub singer.
"I don't have any words to say about this except it's obnoxious how their egos are growling to gossip without even knowing the person but imperiling their reputation and image in the eyes of the others." A sharp exhale unloaded Madeleine's femininely dainty, frail torso whilst propping her temple as her dainty, featherly-soft fingertips kneaded on circles the tender flesh, in order to diminish the chances of a headache or eventual migraine at the thought of the sickening news and methods of the nobodies punishing the others they barely know with detrimental damage on their avatar in general. "I truly believe one day they will shut their mouths before sloppily fueling their rage and delusional pictures and scenarios with something they aren't familiar with, but I think somebody has to defend them in front of the media as I can do."
"They also were whispering that he's responsible for two homicides." The haphazardness of the middle-aged gentleman's sapphire blue jewels landing on the kettle and the transparent liquid, he shot a quick glimpse at his current guest.
"He's realizing his mistakes and I don't know what kind of problem the media have to comment him along with the priests that surrounded you in Boston."
"They are playing a really dangerous game! So the journalists and priests can be sued and be charged with defamation and their menacing gossips about somebody's image especially in Timothy's case." All of a sudden, Kellan managed to cross docilely, modestly his arms across his muscly, toned chest whilst awaiting patiently for the water to boil at last.
--- *** ---
--- A Few Hours Later or So ---
As soon as the hours ticked uneasily through the unceasingly advancing night passing at summer breeze's pace, consequently the Howards had dinner downstairs the desolated hotel and Jude went on a brief jogging nearby unlike the British aristocrat who preferred to stay inside their booked room to take care of Edward Ralph, who was deeply asleep. Further, the infant was bathed, fed and conveniently swaddled in new, clean garments before bedtime at last.
Even though Jude hasn't jogged for a couple of months since she has graced her and the younger gentleman with a new addition to their compact, nevertheless, tremendously adorable and doting family, she started trot twice daily or even once at least, in order to keep herself in shape with her post-birth figure.
"Look what, Maddie! I'm quite surprised you both had a grave conversation how you leapt from the positive part of our relationship with Jude up to the," In the interval, orthodoxy long, healthily creamy fingers cradled and playfully stroke the senseless infant while the British aristocrat was neatly seating on the edge of the king-sized bed and clinging the retro jet-black earpiece to his vulnerable ear, licking greedily, insecurely his naturally baby-pinkish, chapped lips. "The rumors about me and my past during my priesthood from the local Boston church and how the journalists labeled me in the last newspaper about Cayden's arrest." Series of insecure, coy stutters clumsily grinded on the older man's mouth, consequently idly registering to dart his cinnamon brown optics to find reassuring warmness in the little boy's ethereal beauty, constructing his facial anatomy, while discussing a controversially sophisticated topic with the Michiganian. "I have always treasured my friendship with Kellan Teagan and that was pretty hospitable of his side to treat you with a cup of tea."
"I know! No wonder why we had this seriously distressing discussion about your reputation with Jude during your post-Briarcliff days."
"It won't be easy to make the journalists' cats to get their tongues at all. Trust me, they're ferocious wild animals that seek an ordinary person as a prey to fabricate anything about their families or nicknames about their notorious accident they have had a long time ago."
"But Mary Eunice passed away a long time ago and I don't even have any idea how they will assimilate with their teeny-weeny brains whatever you try to explain to them."
"It's true! The bunch of the newspaper followers are brainwashed, mindless zombies that seek to absorb in something they have never experienced and they aren't even bothering devilishly judging somebody by its book cover."
"Hopefully it's a called a day off once you get back from the honeymoon to mop the floor off with those mindless zombies. Where's Jude?"
"Oh! She's jogging nearby the hotel. I'm in the room with our little cherub angel."
"I see! She's rather preferring to stay in shape after the pregnancy."
Author's Note: I'd like to sincerely apologize for keeping Jude and Timothy's scenes being only once per a chapter lately, nevertheless, I opt to give chance to the other characters' development and to play out their song in the storyline. Do you still enjoy the book, despite encountering once per a chapter Jude and Timothy's scenes? Let me know! I'd like to hear your thoughts! :))
What do you think is the crucial reason Morgan Jill and Andy to overlook Martha's grim past and grant her the deserved second chance? Do you think Timothy has obscured from illumination the vividly gloomy secrets about his past from his old friend Father Kellan Teagan? How do you think Jude and Timothy's honeymoon will finish?