William Kienzle - Man Who Loved God

“That’s the point!” Tom pounded his knee for emphasis. “Our relationship was sinful. It was adulterous-even though there were extenuating circumstances. And it was sinful to use all these precautions-even though there were extenuating circumstances. I am a sinner. I never claimed not to be. But these were personal, private sins, if you will. I would never place myself outside my church by attempting an invalid marriage. Never!

“So, suppose you divorced Al. Would I ask you to marry me then? That brings us back to ‘my church,’ and who is defining marriage. I make no apologies: I would act in conformity with my church. But if the Church ruled you were free to marry, I certainly would have asked you.”

“And now …?”

“And now, of course, there is no need to seek a ruling from the Church. You are a widow. In anyone’s eyes you are free to marry. And I’ve already been granted a declaration of nullity.” He lowered himself into a chair and sat at its edge, eager. “Now, this is what I propose: after a little while we announce our engagement. We also announce that you are carrying your former husband’s child. At that point, the date of our wedding is immaterial-sometime after your delivery, or before; whatever suits you.

“The ceremony will be a Catholic one of any size and detail you wish. At that point it doesn’t matter: anything you want.”

He grew testy. “What is wrong, Babs? I’ve outlined a perfect scenario. What more do you want?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. And I can’t tell you anything you want to hear right away. There are things I can’t explain just now.

“I’m not sure about our child. I’m not sure I want the child-and everyone else-to think he or she belongs to Al Ulrich when you are the father. And even more basic than that, I’m not sure I want to marry you.”

Clearly, he was angry. “Send the money and shut up, is it? I’m not so sure I favor that solution! Think about this, missy-and think about it hard: I can’t wait forever for you to see the light. Just damn well let me know when you see that light!”

He snatched his coat from the chair and stormed out.

Just as well he’d left: she had run out of things to say to him.

This whole thing had played out completely differently than she had planned.

At the very worst she’d expected four financially endowed men, each unaware of the others’ involvement, to contribute generously to the poor widow and her star-crossed child.

The actual circumstance was far from that. Two men-each physically incapable of fertilizing an ovum-were cut from the herd at the outset. The third could be the father. The prospect of marriage to him was akin to volunteering for life in prison. Even accepting money from him was fraught with complexities.

Then along comes the perfect arrangement.

Tom Adams, CEO of a bank, presents a well-thought-out solution. She asks him if, without the present pressures, he would have proposed marriage. Probably not. But the bottom line? Now, he would.

However, she was just beginning to ask herself the question: would she marry him ?

Some women live only for marriage. Perhaps no woman today exemplifies this more than Elizabeth Taylor. No matter how many times events seem to demonstrate beyond all doubt that the single life is her true destiny, she keeps on getting married.

Barbara Ulrich was beginning to think fate was giving her the same message.

Why, after all, did she need marriage? She was not heterosexual. She happened to be gorgeous, the physical answer to nearly every heterosexual male’s dream. She had no problem attracting men, even to the point of having them propose marriage. They wanted what she had on a full-time basis forever. Or so they thought.

Marriage with Tom Adams …

She sat at the large window and inattentively watched the endless flow of the river.

He was a good man. He would care for her. He would provide for her on a level she had never experienced. Her social life would be glamorous.

Could she endure his absolute unquestioning fidelity to his church? Maybe wife number one had had a point. On the other, hand, what difference could it make that her husband was preoccupied with Catholicism?

From firsthand, Barbara knew that Tom’s sexual appetite was voracious. While that could be a problem, particularly after her delivery when she would again be fertile, it was a situation she thought she could handle.

For one thing, she was beginning to believe that while she definitely was not heterosexual, she might very well be bisexual. Jack Fradet had brought that possibility to the surface. Upon reflection, she thought she might lead Tom Adams to the same techniques perfected by Fradet.

All in all, life with Tom Adams was looking more and more attractive. Perhaps even compelling.

By this time she was sure of herself. At least as sure as she could be. She had, as Tom put it, seen the light: she would accept his proposal.

How to tell him?

He had left in a huff only minutes ago. Bad timing to pick up the phone. No, give him a little time to cool off.

A note. A letter. Yes, that would be perfect.

She’d have to word this carefully.

And besides enthusiastically accepting his proposal, she would add an item that she had picked up on when she had screened the other three. It was a tipoff Tom ought to be aware of. She would present this as gossip overheard during the award dinner. Telling him what she’d heard would create a new image for herself: not only a wife, but a collaborator. He would appreciate her interest and her help with the business.

She completed the letter, addressed, stamped, and sealed the envelope. There was just time for the last mail pickup. With any luck, it would be delivered by tomorrow afternoon. She could hardly wait for him to get this letter.

She began to anticipate her coming marriage with delight.

He did seem a bit sheepish about it. And I don’t blame him.” Father Tully had checked things out with his brother and had been invited to visit police headquarters. The topic of conversation was the vacationing pastor of St. Joe’s.

Lieutenant Tully shook his head, chuckling. “How long’s he been gone now?”

“Just a week today. For the love of Pete, he could’ve stayed a month if he wanted to! But he’s been visiting his classmate up there in Canada. He says there’s just so many stories of the Good Old Days he can relive and retell.”

Zoo grew serious. “What does this do to your stay here?”

“I don’t know. Father Koesler’s decision came out of the blue. He called first thing this morning-must’ve been about seven. When I heard his voice, my immediate thought was, It’s way too early to take the pulse of this parish just to see if I’m tending it all right. But all he said was that he was packed and ready to come back. There was no way I could talk him into staying a little longer.”

One of the Tully’s squad members handed him a phone message-a death the Homicide Division had to check out. Zoo scanned the message and nodded an okay. “So Father Koesler will be back later today?”

“I guess it’ll take him four or five hours. He said he’d probably stop for lunch. So he should be pulling in sometime early to mid-afternoon. But yeah, the essence of his message was that he’d be back today.”

“Does that mean you have to vacate today?”

The priest laughed. “You mean like a relay team: I pass the baton to him and he takes it from there?”

“Look, little brother, all I want to know is what to tell Anne Marie. ‘There’ll be an overnight guest … oh, and by the way, he’ll be staying several overnights.’“