Firefighter's Virgin

“No. I’ve taken a pregnancy test. But I went to confession last week…”

“Girl, you beat yourself up enough. You don’t need to be confessing to some old priest that’s going to look down his nose at you.”

I didn’t get angry with her when she said things like that. I knew she didn’t have the same belief system as I did, and that was alright. We loved each other anyways.

“They have the old-fashioned confessionals, at least, so I didn’t have to face him. But the thing is…his voice sounded really familiar. It took me a bit to figure out where I knew it from. Carla, I think he was the guy.”

She sounded like she was choking on whatever she’d taken a drink of right then. “What the hell? You think you slept with a priest? Baby, your Catholic guilt is working overtime. Did you see him? I’m sure you’ve been to church since you’ve been there. Can’t you tell by looking at him if he’s the same guy or not?”

“I haven’t seen him. He’s new at the church, and I’m new in town. The guy I slept with that night told me he’d just moved into town. He had boxes all over his apartment.”

“Any priestly stuff?”

“No, no ‘priestly’ stuff,” I said with a laugh.

“No crosses hanging upside down on the walls?”

Giggling I said, “No, Carla! That’s so bad!”

She laughed. “Well, I just thought maybe this guy was the devil, dressed up as a priest to tempt you.”

“Maybe he is.” I wasn’t joking. What if that was the case?

“Oh, come on, honey. You’re the best person I know. You didn’t sleep with a priest.”

“Well, I haven’t really told you what practically convinced me that I did. When I told the priest about having sex, he asked me if I’d told anyone else. I thought that was really strange. Why would he ask me that?”

“What did you tell him when he asked you that?”

“I told him that I was too ashamed…but that I thought that it was between God and me anyways and no one else needed to know.”

“So, maybe that was what he was going for. Maybe he could sense you beating up on yourself the way you do. I know that you believe God still loves you, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, so maybe that’s all he was going for. He wanted you to know that your whole life didn’t have to change for one mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, honey, even saints like you, apparently.”

“Stop calling me that,” I told her. “I don’t know, Carla. I really sensed he was relieved when I told him I hadn’t told anyone.”

“Baby, you are letting your guilt eat away at your brain. You feel guilty for losing your cherry.”

“Carla!”

“Oh Lord, fine. You feel guilty for giving your maidenhead to a man.”

I laughed and shook my head; she was too much. “Yes, I do feel guilty.”

“So, your head is messing with you because of it. You’ll see. You’ll take one look at the priest when you see him and you’ll know that there is now way you slept with that guy.”

I laughed again and she said, “In all seriousness, he was probably just trying to understand your situation and your frame of mind better. Or, I know how fast you talk when you want to just get something over with. Maybe he just wanted you to slow down and think about it so you can learn from it. That’s what priests do, right?”

“I suppose…”

“Did he give you a stricter penance than other priests?”

“No, it was about the same.”

“Well then, I’m sure that I’m right. Of course, I usually am. You’re letting your thoughts and emotions drive you crazy. You do it all the time, baby. You’re your own worst enemy.”