Umber (27.4 — Father Hoolihan’s Story)

For such a sparsely-attended wedding, there were certainly a lot of distractions.  The bride’s sister was her witness, and she cried all through the ceremony, so much that I had to give her my handkerchief so she could blow her nose. The groom’s sisters sat in the back of the church and gossiped.  The groom looked uncomfortable and vaguely guilty.  The sanctuary was strangely windy.

But the bride was radiant, may the angels in heaven watch over her.  Her voice was quiet, but when she spoke, it elevated the tone of the ceremony to something beautiful. I  wanted to stop her right then and there, and tell her she deserved better than what she was getting.  But, as I said, rather than see him lead her into sin…

Anyway, Father Confessor, I’ve  told you all of this more than once.  But I’ve been withholding the truth, and it’s tormenting me.