The house was clean as usual. OCD clean to be precise. The house’s décor was in earthy tones; browns and tans for the kitchen, dining room and living room. Nothing was overly fancy, but still looked like a typical JC Penny’s catalogue house.
Daysha was hesitant about inviting someone over. Perhaps because she tried to shield her son from her personal life, one day it would be inevitable. But this time, Aaron was at a sleep over and Darrin was over at his girlfriends. Hopefully Debbie wouldn’t randomly drop in, which usually didn’t happen in the evenings but she never knew with her mother.
She had given directions to Rory previously, hoping he would find it ok. Daysha was still surprised he talked to her at all. Generally rubbing people the wrong way was her MO. There was stuff set out on the counter just in case they wanted popcorn or whatever. This wasn’t typical of her and she was probably over preparing. Other than family, company wasn’t something she generally did. She couldn't remember if Rory had a copy of The Rite, so she rented it anyway. But she had told him to bring anything else that would be of interest as she wondered just how much of the Vigil had inspired the horror and suspense movies. Were aliens next?
For his part, Rory was excited. His normal movie watching consisted of either being that guy sitting by himself in the theatre, or that guy home alone watching rentals. While he'd had friends both inside the clergy and his congregation, he had come to realize that his identity as a priest had greatly overshadowed his identity as just a person.
He was also carrying a copy of the movie, which he juggled with the small bag that had bottles of lemonade, tea, and potato chips. He'd been a fan of the 'Arnold Palmer' drink ever since learning about it, and who didn't like chips. Finally getting his balancing act under control, he knocked on the door.
Daysha wondered if she maybe should have bought some alcohol. There were a couple of bottles of brewed cider in the fridge and other than the really odd vodka Darrin liked, that was it. Maybe that was more of a watching the game thing? She had finished putting her hair in a pony tail when the sound of the knock was heard. Answering the door with jeans and a plain and simple blue blouse, she opened it giving Rory a genuine smile. “Hey Rory. Come in!”
Her face was surprised to see what he was carrying. “Oh, here let me help you.” She took what seemed to be slightly off balance from his arms. “You didn’t have to do that.” As she opened the door further to let him in, the house may have seemed warm and inviting. Quite the opposite of how Daysha appeared to most people. “Follow me to the kitchen. Did you have any trouble getting here?” The walls and tables had plenty of pictures, but one thing that may have stood out if someone looked hard enough, Daysha was only in two of the dozens of pictures.
Rory was dressed similarly, except the jeans were brown and the plaid button up was differing shades of green. It looked like something that you might think would go together if you looked at each piece separately, but together, they just didn't work.
"Oh, thanks," he said, shifting packages before stepping in.
For a moment, he just looked around, looking at pictures as they passed. His expression was slightly wide-eyed, and a chair or a picture or an appliance kept catching his attention. Rory was not used to personal homes. Daysha's words slipped in one ear and out the other, and finally the question bubbled out.
"This is yours?"
Daysha put the items on the counter and watched Rory as he looked around. "It's not fancy, but yeah, it's mine. Well and Aaron's." A loving and proud look flashed across her face for a minute. "My mother has friends in the real estate business. It was a good deal." She stated matter-of-factly. "I think what sold me on it, was that it was on the other side of town, but close to the precinct I work at. Often dad and I would swing home for lunch." Daysha stopped herself from rambling.
She pointed to the other room with two adjacent brown plush couches. The kind that you took amazing naps on and they faced a built in entertainment center. There were a lot of neatly placed teen movies, games and a few other things. "That's the living room." Realizing she probably just stated the obvious. "Want a tour?" Trying to gauge him a little she shrugged her shoulders.
"Sure," Rory answered, still taking in the house. He knew he was being not normal, but this was maybe the fourth or fifth home he'd ever been in.
"Ummmm... Between the fosters, then seminary, and then the Church... this is different for me. I hope I'm not being weird?" He felt like he owed her an explanation, and stopped his perusal for a moment to look at her as he explained.
Daysha smiled a little and shook her head. "Rory, it's ok. I don't really have much company. So we're kinda even." She began walking down a small hallway. "To the right is the bathroom." Which looked very normal and in nautical decor. She opened the door across the hall. "This is Aaron's room. Thankfully it's clean." She laughed a little. It had a few neatly placed posters, a desk and a single bed. A dresser stood with a few random things on it, and a picture of Daysha and Aaron. She looked at the door in front of them and hesitated a moment.
"The room in front of us is mine. There's an office and master bathroom." She pointed to the office, which was small but piled with books and a computer. The bedroom was decorated in blue and felt calm and serene which matched the bathroom. There was normal bedroom furniture, and on the nightstand the bible would look familiar. A thin chain with a small gold cross hung from the lamp. Daysha quickly turned with a bit of uncertainty in her voice. She had unconsciously been holding her breath for a moment and released it when she spoke. "Okay that's the upstairs, I can show you downstairs, if you want."
The room that interested Rory the most was Aaron's; the others got a cursory glance. It was so different than what he'd known, it fascinated him to see what "normal" was. The other rooms were just rooms. If there was a sense of wonder about the house, it was having something that a person owned; a place that was theirs, more than any curiosity about the details of Daysha's life or lifestyle.
"No, that's OK," he answered, turning to her and smiling. "This is cool. Really cool."
A thought struck him, and he looked back in Aaron's room, then back to Daysha.
"Where is everyone?"
Smiling a little, because it seemed hard not to with Rory. "Well, Aaron is at a friends house. Some sleepover kinetic, no reflexic... uh." Daysha snapped her fingers a little while trying to remember. "Kinect or some xbox party. Malcom's mom said it was a sports game or something." She shook her head. "I try to keep up with that stuff, it changes so fast." It didn't strike her as odd that Rory was amused by looking around, it bothered her that some didn't deserve to go through some of life's lessons.
"Darrin is at his fiance" She quickly added. "Er girlfriend's, helping her pack since he's already packed up. They're moving into an townhouse down the block in a few weeks. One of the perfect things about this house was that the basement is a full small apartment. Of course Darrin loved that idea." Daysha motioned to Rory back to the kitchen area.
"Well, I bet this is the quietest it's been here in a long time," Rory replied, with an answering smile as he followed her.
"I'm surprised you're not taking the opportunity to take a nap or something, I can't even imagine how busy your days are." Oddly, he felt guilty for leading such a sedate, quiet life, when faced with someone who risked themselves as a peace officer and was a single parent.
He picked up the drink he brought and gestured to her and then to the fridge, seeing what she wanted him to do with them.
Shrugging a little, Daysha offered. "Well, slowly its been getting more quiet at home. I don't really nap unless its by accident. It seems I always find something to do." Like read more true crime books, or watch forensic shows.
She had seen the copy of the movie as Rory walked in. "Did you mention that you had a copy of The Rite, or did I just forget?" She laughed a little. "Maybe Aaron's right, I am getting old." Gesturing to the drinks she asked curiously. "What are those? You can put them in the fridge and leave a couple out. I don't think I've heard of that." It was getting a little more apparent that Daysha was really wrapped up in her work.
"Oh, right, yes, I brought a copy," he affirmed, pulling it out and holding it up. "Seemed only fair since we were at your house."
Laying the movie back down, he pulled the drinks out.
"Tea and lemonade, you mix them half and half, and it's called an Arnold Palmer. It's great by itself, or...," Rory explained, twisting the lids off, then pausing. "Or, you know, it's a good drink to mix with. Just an 'FYI'."
It felt awkward bringing up alcohol, and he wasn't sure if it sounded like a request, but it had been too late to backtrack without sounding strange.
Hopefully she tucked away the rented copy of the movie. Daysha walked to the cupboard and pulled out two glasses. "Are they cold, or do we need ice?" There was something about his slight awkwardness at times that was nice. Not some chauvinistic asshole who intentionally belittled her... till she got pissed off and flipped out on them.
"Ya know, if you want we can put a splash of something else." She said as it looked like a thought occurred to her. "I think Darrin has some vodka or Jim Beam up here. Lord knows why he didn't keep it downstairs." Daysha stated as she walked to the fridge and began reaching in the cupboard above and opened the door. "Great, he put it on the far side." She laughed as she tried to reach. "Maybe I should get the stool before I do something stupid."
"Cold," Rory answered, bobbing his head in a nod. He took the glasses and set them side by side.
Pouring, he nodded. "Sure, why not, right?"
It was a small relief to know that she wasn't a teetotaler, and he left room in each glass for the alcohol.
"I'm thinking vodka? I think it'd go better with the citrus of the lemonade..." On second thought, they might want ice cubes. Vodka was better frozen, and the room temperature alcohol would cool off the drinks.
As she spoke again, he was about to answer when he looked over and noticed her reaching up. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at the way her blouse material had flattened and tightened before he looked around for a chair.
"You want a chair? Or maybe I can reach it?"
"Yeah, vodka works." As Daysha pulled herself back down she added. "As you can see, I'm a big drinker at home." She said in a sarcastic fun tone. "My brother is 6 foot 2, I think he enjoys doing this to me."
Daysha was by no means trying to play helpless, as she said to Rory. "Yeah, if you want to give it a try go ahead. I'll grab the stool just in case."
Walking around the corner to the closet, she spoke in a slightly louder voice. "Hey Rory, did you ever find an apartment yet? I know you mentioned when we were at the diner you'd start looking for one." Slightly glancing around the corner to make sure he didn't slip... or something.
Rory surveyed the cabinet; he was two inches shorter than Darrin, but it was still doable. If he could run up a brick wall and do a backflip, he could do this. He waited until Daysha rounded the corner, and pushed off the floor, planting a hand on the counter top to get an extra second or two in the air as he grabbed the bottle. He felt like a kid sneaking swigs back at the foster home, holding the bottle in a home rather than a bar. And a bottle at that, rather than a single drink.
"I got it," he called out. After a pause, he added, "No, nothing yet... but I haven't really been looking that hard. Mostly settling into work and looking for a car."
Rory had come to the realization that his living arrangements didn't really matter to him, and therefore had slipped on his list of priorities. He added the last bit to keep Daysha from thinking he was helpless or broke.
Chuckling a little as Daysha saw him do... well whatever it is that he did, she quickly put the stool away. "Thanks." She said warmly as she walked over to the counter where Rory stood. "I'm not really good with mixing drinks. So be my guest if you want."
There was part of Daysha that wanted to tell Rory, well if you haven't found anything, just move in here. And then there was the awkward, I don't know you very well but move in. Fact of the matter was, if she advertised it, she'd probably get some really crazy people coming over or calling about it. "I wonder if Darrin will still come over and mow the yard after he moves out. I hate doing that crap. Not that I'm incapable, I just hate it." She said conversely although the segue in her head probably made no sense when it came out of her mouth. Moving over to the bag Rory brought in, Daysha kind of peeked in. "So, what's in here for chips?"
"Barbecue!" Rory exclaimed with a small note of triumph. He looked over at Daysha and grinned happily as he opened the vodka bottle.
"It's a potato chip... and barbecue. I mean, how cool is that?"
Pondering the glasses, he gave them a liberal dousing, imitating what he'd seen bartenders do, evening out the volume of liquid in the glasses. Handing Daysha one, he lifted it towards her, then took a swallow.
"Mow the yard?"
He looked honestly perplexed.
"Doesn't the neighborhood do that?"
He'd never lived anywhere that didn't have a lawn crew. He took another swallow as the alcohol sent a warm flush through him.
It had been a while since someone made her genuinely smile, and Rory's excitement about quite a few things did that. The only other people that did that were her family. "Yup, Barbecue, they're tasty." She smiled in approval.
"No, the neighborhood doesn't do that. Unless I want to pay some teenager to do a half-a... horrible job." Why am I correcting my swearing? "I'm sure Aaron and I will manage." Daysha shrugged and took a drink of what Rory mixed. Her eyes widened as she swallowed and her throat became warm. "Wow, that's pretty um..." She coughed a little. "Strong. But it's good." She quickly added as she took another drink which went down smoother.
Walking to Rory's other side, almost directly behind him, Daysha set her drink down and reached into the cupboard for some bowls. "You wanna grab the movie and the chips? I'm grabbing some bowls."
Rory took another swallow, wondering if he even wanted chips. He hadn't known she had alcohol.
"Sure."
He pondered the dvd and chips on the counter for a moment, then put his drink between his forearm and chest, then the dvd in that hand, and the chips in another.
"OK," he said, turning. "Ready."
Walking into the living room, Daysha placed the two bowls and her glass on the table between the squared off couches. Turning around to Rory she laughed slightly while she glanced in his eyes and shrugged. "Ah, I'll take the movie." She said to Rory and she slipped it out of his hand by the case. "Sit wherever you like." Gesturing to the two couches as she approached the corner of the room.
There was a short corner stand with glass doors where the small flat screen TV sat on. It was not that fancy at all. Just simple and filling a small need. She bent over to put the DVD in the player she asked. "This is about exorcisms, right? You know I've seen the Exorcist too, I wonder what a real one is like to witness."
Rory took another drink as his hands were freed and he could transfer the glass into one. Surveying the couches, he sat on the one facing the tv, but off center.
"It's loud."
He wasn't sure else what to say, having only seen a handful of videos the church kept; usually with cameras ill-suited for the purpose.
"There's a lot of yelling," he clarified. He'd also heard other things; that the possessed often lost control of their bodily functions, or fell into epileptic-type seizures.
"I've only seen some film, and it's not great -- like someone setting down a camcorder, and then that's the only vantage point."
"Sort of like the Blair Witch Project?" Daysha asked, not knowing if he saw it. She walked back to the other couch while the movie started to queue up. Sitting down on the other couch, she started to wonder about whether or not this was a good idea.
Grabbing the remote from the table between the couches, she paused the movie. Turning to Rory she asked with a concerned tone. "Rory, does it bother you to talk about that stuff or even watching this?" She pursed her lips for a moment then continued. "If I'm being too pushy, let me know." Daysha wondered if he had talked to anyone about what he was going through with his departure from the church, but she didn't want to ask him directly.
"Mmmmm, yeah, like that... kind of. More purposeful," he replied, trying to find a way to describe them.
"Less runny noses."
He grinned at the half-ass joke, then considered her question. His eyes went slightly upward as he went into thought, and he took another drink.
"No... it's kind of... nice, actually. You're helping me, hmmmm, adjust to the situation, if that makes sense. I think otherwise, I'd just have let teaching substitute for the Church, and just... I don't know, not have really accepted things. So, if anything, I should thank you, I guess." He meandered through the sentences, putting thoughts into words, finishing with a smile.
"Is that OK? I don't want to be someone you feel like you have to help or they'll lose their grip..."
Daysha took a drink as she smiled to Rory's joke. "Of course it's ok. And you're welcome. You can talk to me any time." She gave a slight chuckle. "You don't seem the type to lose their grip. You're pretty mellow from what I've noticed." Of course, considering Daysha a bit blunt at times, it was pretty easy for someone to seem mellow to her.
"I think I have more faith in you for standing by your convictions, than I do for the church itself." The words came out like she had been thinking about it for a little while. There was hesitation in her face while she wondered if she should have brought this up.
Rory fell silent, nodding, looking down and studying his drink. He finished it in a long swallow and looked up at Daysha.
"It's a... delicate situation, that's for sure. And I can't say that I don't understand that the 'message' may be the greater good, that one priest isn't worth the impact on the establishment," he said, putting his thoughts into words. "I can't say that they're wrong."
He tilted the glass, this way, then that, letting the ice ring in it before standing up.
"I ask myself, what would I have sacrificed to maintain the integrity of the Church?" Rory continued, walking back into the kitchen. He rubbed a forearm across his forehead. When did it get hot.
"The Church, maybe the Police force is the same, is greater than the sum of it's parts. You know?"
Daysha suddenly had a rare moment that she was worried about speaking her mind. She watched Rory's actions, which was typical for someone in her trade. He didn't give much away other than rubbing his head. Fucking great, I think I offended him.
Following Rory, Daysha spoke with understanding. "Yeah, the needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few. If that's what your getting at." She was a little surprised he compared the two. Before she could stop herself, she asked. "Do you regret your decision?" She got quiet for a moment. "I mean do you think you made the right choice?" Daysha suddenly wanted to bang her head on the counter.
Rory stopped, turning and leaning against the wall. He smiled slightly, wondering a little where the questions were coming from. Not that he minded, he was just used to being the one that asked the questions, rather than the one answering.
Well, she is a cop.
"Hmmm... Absolutely," he answered, sounding confident in his answer despite the pause.
"I have faith that this is what I'm supposed to do; that I was called to this. I'm not going to say it has... been easy... but I'm confident."
There was a slight pause in cadence at the end, as if he were going to continue, but stopped. He worried about 'getting preachy'.
"And you?" Rory added the question, curious suddenly if she were trying to draw a parallel to something.
Daysha realized Rory was more easy going than most priest she’d met. Err, former priests. He was also a lot different than most men she met too. “Yeah I don’t doubt it hasn’t been easy. But I’m here if you want to talk.” She glanced at a random picture of Aaron on the wall. “Some changes are good though, it’s the doubt that can sneak up sometimes.” She sighed a little.
“Me?” Daysha walked towards Rory and stood at a comfortable distance. Her arms nearly instinctively crossed and wrapped around herself like a hug. “Um, no one’s asked me that before.” She paused as she thought of her mom. “Although I’ve been told I’ve made some wrong decisions.”
“Which decisions are you referring to?” Daysha asked with a half chuckle.
Rory mouth quirked in a half smile and he nodded slowly, rocking back on his heels.
"Well. Doubt is what we quench the steel of our faith in," he said.
"And, no, I didn't make that up just now. It's in one of my sermons," Rory added with a slightly wider smile.
"The point is... no one is always right, and anyone without doubts is just... dumb. Maybe someone else would make different decisions in my shoes... doesn't mean I'm wrong. Doesn't mean whoever told you that you're wrong is right. But there's a difference between doubt and regret, and no one makes that distinction but you. So, I guess my question is, to anything," Rory continued, gesturing at her with his empty glass.
"Any regrets?"
"Well. Doubt is what we quench the steel of our faith in." Daysha repeated the phrase in Rory’s voice over in her head. "Well. Doubt is what we quench the steel of our faith in." Why is that not making sense to me? There was a perplexed look on her face. “Ok, I’m sorry, but I don’t entirely follow the doubt and steel thing.” Daysha’s voice was confused and apologetic.
“And doubting myself is… dumb.” She mused out loud, but no sign of being offended.
“Regrets.” She stopped. “I uh…” Daysha tried to speak again. “Um, well.” She quickly looked to Rory’s empty glass, completely avoiding eye contact. “Oh hey, you want another drink?” She grabbed the glass from his hand and headed to the kitchen.
Rory surrendered his glass without any reservation, following her.
"Steel, after it's heated and beaten into shape, is doused. The rapid cooling instead of slow cooling prevents some sort of chemical changes from happening. I don't really get it, there's just some interesting history about the different metals used and how they affected the European conflicts -- and the religions that waxed and waned because of them," he said, clarifying.
He gave an apologetic smile, realizing he was falling into 'professor' mode.
"Anyway. Unquenched steel is brittle, and will shatter. Like blind or untested faith, it doesn't have the same strength. That's where the word slash expression 'tempered' comes from, you know."
Rory noticed the dodge, but this wasn't confession, and he decided that if she wanted to elaborated, she would. He fell into a comfortable silence, watching her with the glasses.
"I can give you a book if you want, about it," he suddenly offered, the impulse surprising him slightly.
Listening to Rory’s decipher on the context Daysha wondered something. “Rory, now this has nothing to do with you personally. It seems like the church doesn’t keep up with the times.” She shrugged a little. “Then again, I only went to a couple of your masses and was too nervous to entirely pay attention.” Shit, why did I say nervous out loud.
“Yeah, maybe a book would be helpful.” She said quickly.
Walking to the freezer, she pulled out some ice cubes and added them to Rory’s glass. Grabbing some more of the Palmer drink, she set it on the counter, then poured in a bit more than a shot. She wasn’t really counting. Realizing her glass was still in the living room, Daysha pulled out a shot glass, poured herself some vodka and threw it back. She exasperated a moment after drinking it.
“Yeah, I have regrets. Meeting a vampire, that’s a fuc.... regret.” She said as she stared at the cupboard and poured another shot.
"Oh, is that how it is?" Rory asked, arching an eyebrow at her shot glass and his ice cubes afloat. Clearly, he thought if she was doing shots, he should be too.
"Yeah. That's a tough one," he continued, nodding at her observation about the church. "Maybe that's why they're so intent on holding onto what they do have." He sighed, his own thoughts on the subject divided. There wasn't a neat or clean answer.
His musing was interrupted as she continued, and he cocked his head to the side, taking a step closer.
"What happened?" he asked, curious. She'd never really talked about how she'd gotten into this life except abstractions about her father.
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