A Light in the Window Read Online Free

you see, Mr. O’Connor, that’s where you’re different from me, and when I’m done with you, young man, it’s my hope you’ll be different as well.” His burly black cassock shifted with a slack of a meaty hip. “Of course I’m in the business of forgiveness, which makes me different as well, so this is your lucky day, gentlemen—I’m ready to absolve you of this regrettable stunt.”
    The breath Patrick had been holding seeped from his lungs in an audible sigh. A shaky smile made its way across his face. “Sweet soul-saving mercy, Father—you won’t regret this.”
    “No, I don’t believe I will, Mr. O’Connor, although I’m not so sure about you and Mr. O’Rourke. You see, we’re not explicitly talking ‘mercy’ from the throne of God here,” he said with an ominous chuckle. “You know, ‘As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us’? No, rather more of an absolution of a wrong committed where retribution is due.”
    Sam cleared his throat, his stance as awkward as Patrick’s. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir, what exactly does that mean?”
    Father Fitz glanced at Sam, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Ah, Mr. O’Rourke has found his tongue, I see, which is excellent because you’re going to need it, young man.”
    Staring straight ahead, Patrick actually heard Sam gulp. “Sir?”
      A grin twitched at the corners of the priest’s mouth. “For the play, Mr. O’Rourke, for which you and Mr. O’Connor are not only going to build sets or whatever else Sister Francine may need you to do, but perform as well.” A smile bloomed on his face. “Oh, and I’m quite sure your time spent in the soup kitchen will be most rewarding, although the Southie lasses are sure to miss you, no doubt.”
    Sam began to hack, and Patrick commenced to absently pounding him on the back, eyes fused to the priest who’d proven himself a most capable mentor. But this? An infraction that extracted more penance than Patrick was willing to pay? He gouged the back of his neck, the priest’s semblance of a smirk giving rise to Patrick’s temper. “Look, Father, we appreciate your leniency, but can’t you just give us some Hail Mary’s and Our Father’s and be done with it? Both Sam and I work 40-hour shifts every week, sir, and we have no extra time for things like play practice or a soup kitchen.”
    Father Fitz arched a definitive brow, his gaze flicking to the confessional and back. “Yes, Mr. O’Connor, I can see that your spare time is put to excellent use.”
    Patrick had the grace to blush.
    With a cumbersome sigh, Father Fitz tucked the bottle under his arm. “No, gentlemen, I’m afraid Hail Mary’s and Our Fathers have run their course here.” He shook his head with a grimace. “Trust me, I’ve stockpiled them for you both since you crossed the threshold of St. Mary’s, so now it’s time to put your money where your mouth is.” His chin inched up with a steeled sobriety Patrick had seen many a time. “And since time is money, you will pay through the nose with as much community service as I can possibly bleed from the both of you.”
      “And if we won’t do it?” Sam said, a spark of challenge to his tone.
    Father Fitz studied Sam with a firm tilt of his head, the faint shifting of a jaw that Patrick recognized all too well from countless hours of detention with a man few students defied. “You know, it’s a curious thing, Samuel—your mother has been after me to come to dinner for months now, so perhaps I should come next week, imparting some information that just may batten your hatches a wee bit.”
    Patrick’s eyes weighted closed. Great. Another knock-down, drag-out with Pop.
    “I think I may just chance it, Father,” Sam said, the dark stubble on his jaw as menacing as the stubborn gleam in his eye. “I can live without my mother’s approval.”
    “Ah, yes, Mr. O’Rourke, but the question remains—can you live without