Sean Paul Murphy, Writer

Sean Paul Murphy, Writer
Sean Paul Murphy, Storyteller

Friday, June 1, 2018

CHAPEL STREET - Chapter 7 - The Holy Redeemer Lonely Hearts Club


Here's another sample chapter of my new novel Chapel Street.  Keep checking back for more!

Chapter 7

The Holy Redeemer Lonely Hearts Club


Teri indeed liked Mexican food so I invited her out to lunch at The Hacienda, a fabulous Tex-Mex restaurant about five blocks away from the cemetery.
Thank God this wasn’t a date because I made the classic first date mistake: talking about your ex. As soon as we sat down, I just started talking about Gina, and I didn’t stop for about twenty minutes. I described with surprising honesty my emotional ambiguities at every step of our relationship. To make matters even worse, I also revealed how I had chosen my mother over Gina. That’s another big no-no. Geez. As I listened to myself, I was thinking, “Oh my God, you’re going the full Norman Bates.”
Teri took it all in stride. She let me tell my tale of woe, and then she told me about her ex with remarkable candor. Her ex was actually an ex-husband: Charles Allen Carson. They were mismatched from the beginning. She was a somewhat naïve Catholic high school teacher. He was a much worldlier plumber well versed in the art of love. (Her words, not mine.) She met him at a bar while she was at a going away party for a friend. He swept her off her feet with flowers, romantic dinners, and adventures. They went white water rafting, spent long weekends in the Bahamas, and even went skydiving. With Chuck, Teri experienced things she had only read about in books. It wasn’t until after they married that she learned that their entire courtship was financed with credit cards.
Things went bad soon after the wedding. Her husband feigned a back injury at work and she had to support him while he battled endlessly for worker’s compensation and disability. With only one salary, his credit card balances became a real burden. Chuck’s strategy was to always shift the balances to new credit cards. She didn’t know how to react. She always looked down on people who let material concerns like money ruin their marriages. She considered them shallow. To her, marriage was as spiritual as it was physical. Love always trumped money, except when she found herself in that situation.
Her resentment grew daily, but divorce was out of the question for a good Catholic. A divorce could endanger her job at the high school. She couldn’t divorce Chuck unless he gave her a valid reason for an annulment. He unwittingly obliged when she discovered his affair with a former co-worker that began well before their marriage. Now she was free again in the eyes of Rome, her maiden name restored, and not interested in marrying again anytime soon.
“I’ve always been an excellent judge of character. I could always tell how my friends’ husbands would turn out, who’d be great, who’d be a loser, but Chuck totally blindsided me. I didn’t see it coming at all,” she explained. Then, after taking a sip of her Corona, she added, “I’m never getting married again. I can’t trust myself to make that kind of a decision.”
“I think if Gina and I had gotten married, we would have stayed married,” I replied. “But I don’t think I would have made her happy. Not really.”
“Then its good you didn’t get married,” she said. “If happiness looks out of reach, it’s best to walk away before anyone gets hurt.”
“Too late for that,” I replied. “I definitely hurt her.”
“And now you’re hurt.”
“Yes,” I said honestly. “I guess.”
“I hurt my husband, too,” Teri replied, and she then smiled. “Or at least my lawyer did when he convinced the judge not to pile half of his credit card debt on me.”
We both laughed.
“Maybe our expectations are the problem,” I continued, more seriously. “I don’t see any divorce in my family tree. None. Not my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on. They all stayed together. But you have to ask yourself how many of them were in love the way we expect it to be today? No one ever wrote any romance novels about my ancestors, but I hope that they at least found their niche with their spouses.”
“Would that satisfy you?” she asked, meeting my eyes seriously. “Just finding your niche with someone?”
“Yesterday I would have said no,” I replied. “But today I’m not so sure.”
Teri gave me a weary smile before raising her bottle of Corona. “A toast to The Holy Redeemer Lonely Hearts Club.”
I raised my bottle and tapped hers.
“To our first annual meeting,” she said.
We both took a drink; then I added, “First annual?  Does that mean you anticipate another meeting?”
“Well, Mr. Rick Bakos,” she replied. “If you’re looking for romance, you’ve come to the wrong place. But if you’re looking for someone to help you document a cemetery or discuss genealogy, I hope there will be another one.”
“Good,” I replied, and I meant it. It felt nice to have a new female friend with similar interests to talk to without any romantic expectations. I always found it safer to talk about things of the heart with women rather than men, particularly safely married women who had no interest in me. I don’t know why. I guess it was because I always felt competitive with guys, even my closest friends. I never wanted to seem weak around them. Whenever I had a problem with Gina, I turned to a couple of married women at work who would let me cry on their shoulders. They all thought I should have stayed with her. Then again, I never told them about the nightmares of waking up to find Gina dead. I didn’t want them to think I was crazy.
I tried to pay the check, but Teri insisted on splitting it. She didn’t want us to get off on the wrong foot. Then we took out our cellphones. She told me her phone number, and I dialed her, allowing her to capture my number. Our devices were now connected. When we left the restaurant, there was no friendly kiss on the cheek or even the shaking of hands before we walked off to our cars. That was a relief.

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I was happy. I had a new friend, and, in all honesty, I didn’t make them often.

While you're waiting for the next chapter of Chapel Street, feel free to read my memoir:


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