She had moved in a few days ago after I rented her a room. I thought it would be nice to have help paying the bills. I didn't realize she was going to be home, and I could feel my skin turn a slight shade of pink.I knew her from where I worked and we had become friends. I found out she was between relationships and needed a place to stay for awhile. I thought it was a great arrangement for both of us. I realized she did not turn away. She was leaning against the door frame, her arms were crossed, her head was tilted, and she had a strange smile on her face."How long have you been standing there?" I asked, as I reached for my skirt to try to cover myself."Long enough to like what I see," she answered as she moved into the room.I hugged my skirt tighter to my body and realized as she came closer, I was backing up. The smile never left her as she closed the space between us. As she reached out to me, I felt myself falling backward. I had reached the corner of the bed and tripped. It had been a long time since she'd been in a church. She was conscious of the inappropriateness of her summer dress, with its bare shoulders and too-high hem. It was too warm to wear panties. The church ladies had stared at her.But it was so hot in the sanctuary; a line of perspiration gathered at the base of her neck, under her short red hair, and ran, tickling, down her spine.She hadn't taken her eyes off the priest throughout the mass, in case intense concentration would speed the delivery of God from his words into her soul. He preached to her, in English and the heady tones of Latin, pouring the word of God over her like warm, thick oil.She knelt in prayer, and among the bent heads and closed eyes she watched him, a vessel of the Creator, and let him pray to her. For her.She knelt still as the congregation filed out, content in their relationships with Christ. The old wood bit into her knees, but she kept still, watching the now-abandoned altar, until silence as heavy and.
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