Confession of Adultery

"Oh, yes," Harrison agreed quickly.

"Alright then, what is it you wish to confess?"

Harrison leaned toward Father Mac and stared intently at him. "I want to confess the sin of adultery," he said in a clear voice.

Father Mac hesitated. "I don't understand, Carter, I thought that you were divorced," Father Mac said, and then caught himself. "Oh, I see, you mean that you had sexual relations with a married woman," he said.

"That's right," Harrison said, "I seduced another man's wife." Then he gave a half-smile. "Do you want me to tell you the name of the woman?"

"No," Father Mac said, "not if you don't want to."

"I'd rather not, Father, because you know her."

The thought that an acquaintance was involved saddened Father Mac, but he put that aside to focus on the man before him. Harrison's tone seemed almost smug, and that irritated Father Mac. "If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?" he asked sharply.

"Oh, the usual reasons, I guess," Harrison said casually. "I could tell that she was ripe, as they say, and I guess I just couldn't resist the temptation to pluck her."

Father Mac looked at Harrison carefully, wondering if the man was making some kind of joke. "Carter, I have to say that for a man making a confession you don't seem very penitent."

"Oh, no, Father, I did a terrible thing to that woman, and I know it."

Harrison's statement still didn't sound very remorseful, but Father Mac decided to let it go. "Very well, is there anything else you need to confess?"

"No, Father, just one mortal sin for today. So what do I do now, say some 'Hail Mary's' or "Our Father's'?"

That flippant tone of voice was still there, but Father Mac decided not to call Harrison on it. "You can if you wish, but I'd rather you spend some time thinking about what you've done and the harm it can cause to everyone involved, not the least to yourself." He picked up a copy of The Book of Common Prayer and handed it to the man. "I'd also like you to find some quiet time and turn to the service of the Holy Eucharist. Find the general Confession of Sin, read it, and then incorporate it into your own prayers. And you ought to go to your Bible and refresh yourself on the Ten Commandments, especially the seventh."

Harrison took the book from Father Mac and nodded. Then he smiled at the priest and stood up. "I'm glad I did this, Father Mac. I feel so much better." With that he turned and left.

Father Mac returned to his desk and tried to make sense of what had just happened. He was surprised that Harrison had sought him out in the first place. Mac had never seen him at St. Ann's before, and as far as he knew, the man didn't attend church anywhere else. His request for confession was an even greater surprise, but Father Mac had seen enough of humanity to know how unpredictable any given individual could be.

At the same time, he was disappointed to learn what Harrison had done. All men are fallible, as Mac knew full well, but he still felt that a man in Harrison's position had a special obligation to act in a responsible manner. When Harrison's adultery was discovered, as Mac felt would likely happen, what repercussions would it have on the people involved? Worse, would it adversely impact the United Fund itself? He fervently hoped that Harrison wasn't involved with one of his employees or an employee's wife - that could tear apart the whole organization. "Why can't people think with their brains rather than their glands?" he thought regretfully.

But over and above all these considerations, what kept nagging at Mac was the disconnect between what Harrison said he wanted and his attitude. "Why would he want to confess his sin if he wasn't serious?" Father Mac asked himself. "If he was truly penitent, why didn't he act like it?"

All these concerns made him wish that he could discuss them with someone else. But he knew he could never share what he'd learned with anyone - the burden was singularly on his shoulders. "Sometimes being a priest isn't as much fun as it's cracked up to be," he thought wryly.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next few days proved trying for Colleen. At work she found herself frequently distracted, so much so that several of her staff members asked if she was feeling well. At home she had trouble sleeping, and when she did manage to drop off, her dreams were haunted. Twice she woke up to discover her hand buried between her legs. Even worse, she felt distant from Mac, and that frightened her. Mac had always been exactly what Colleen had wanted: a loving and caring man who was always there for her. So why was it that now she needed something else?

Finally, at the end of a long and difficult day, she picked up the phone and made a call. She was almost trembling while she waited for an answer. When the secretary put her through, Carter Harrison answered silkily, "Good afternoon, Ms. O'Reilly. What can I do for you today?"

Colleen's throat tightened and her mouth went dry. She forced herself to speak, but her voice came out in a whisper. "Carter, I need to see you again."

There was silence on the line for a moment, and then his voice came through in a tone that made her think of snakes. "Would you repeat that please, Ms. O'Reilly?"

"He's playing with me," she realized. "He heard me the first time." Nevertheless, she swallowed and tried again. "Mr. Harrison . . . Sir. I need to see you again. I . . . I really need you."

When she heard him laugh she shuddered.

* * * * * * * * * *

The weekends were always busy for Father Mac. Inevitably there were last-minute preparations for Sunday's services, a final edit to his sermon, calls from the Altar Guild about the floral arrangements, parents of acolytes calling to notify him about a sick child, and a last check with the choir leader. The list seemed endless, so when Colleen told him on Friday that she would need to go in to work on Saturday afternoon, Mac was actually grateful. When she was at home he felt an obligation to devote attention to her, and on Saturdays like this one that would be difficult if not impossible.

When she returned home later that evening, Mac was shocked by Colleen's appearance. Her face was drawn and she seemed stiff and achy. Once when she sat down too quickly on the couch, she gave a little yelp. He asked what was wrong but she dismissed his concerns. "I think my period may be coming early this month, that's all," she told him. Once again she went to bed early without eating anything, and Mac made a mental note to insist that she see her doctor for a check-up.

On Sunday she didn't feel up to attending either Morning Prayer or Mass, and that only fueled Mac's concern. After the last parishioner had left the parking lot at St. Ann's, Mac hurried home, stopping only to pick up some fast food that he knew Colleen liked. When he got there he was greatly relieved to find his wife up and about. The color in her face had returned and she told him that a hot shower and a couple of aspirin had taken care of her achiness. When he brought up the idea of a medical check-up, she dismissed the idea out of hand. "It was probably nothing more than a 24-hour virus," she told him. "I'm fine now."

Mac was convinced enough of that she was okay to attend the Vestry meeting scheduled for that evening, but he couldn't stop worrying entirely. Colleen had always been so strong; the thought of something being wrong with her was deeply disturbing. "What would I do without her?" he asked himself.

As he drove over to the church, he remembered the first time he'd met Colleen. The Marines had sent him home following his breakdown. Still struggling to deal with everything that had happened, he finally decided to use the G. I. Bill to go to divinity school. It was there that he'd had his first nightmare, and it shook him so badly that he'd gone to Student Health in the middle of the night.

That was where he'd met Colleen. He had been waiting to see a doctor; she was waiting on a friend who had gotten food poisoning. The two of them began to talk, and after a while Mac decided that he didn't need to see a doctor after all. The pretty little brunette Social Work student had listened to his story and calmed him with her quiet concern. She in turn was fascinated by this gentle man who, despite the horror and violence of war, felt a calling for something greater than himself.

A week later the two of them ran into one another on campus, and Mac seized the opportunity to get her number. Soon the two of them were seeing each other, and in their senior year they were married in the Divinity School chapel. She'd been there for him ever since.

* * * * * * * * * *

If weekends were hectic for Mac, Monday's tended to be his slow day. He was cleaning up his desk to go home that afternoon when Mrs. Moore buzzed him. "That nice Mr. Harrison is back to see you, Father Mac," she warbled. "Shall I show him in?"

With all his concern about Colleen, the enigma of Carter Harrison had completely slipped Mac's mind. Now here he was back again. He gave a sigh and asked Mrs. Moore to bring the man back to the office. When she had done so, she reminded Father Mac that she was leaving for the day. After he thanked her and wished her a good evening, Father Mac turned back to his visitor.

"Hello, Carter. I hope your visit today is for a different reason than last time."

Harrison gave him a solemn look. "I'm afraid not, Father Mac. I have a new sin to confess to you. I'm afraid I committed adultery with the same woman again."

Mac looked at him suspiciously, trying to understand the man and his motives. "Are you sure you're not making this up, Carter?" he demanded.

"Oh, no, Father, it's all true. Why would I make up such a thing?"

"If it is true, then I'm very disappointed in you, Carter. I had hoped that when you came to confess before you were truly remorseful. But repeating the same sin is hardly a sign of contrition. Forget about yourself for a minute and think about what you're doing to this woman and her family."

"I do think about that, Father, and I'm very aware where my actions could lead. But I really don't think I'm entirely to blame this time. She came on to me - she told me that she needed me desperately, that I unlocked something inside her that she didn't know she had. You see, I . . ."

"Carter, I don't want to hear about your sexual prowess or how this woman can't live without you. The purpose of confession is to admit your sins and dedicate yourself to living a better life. If you can't do that, then I can't help you."

"I'm sorry I disappoint you, Father. I'm afraid I'm only human." Harrison stood up and made for the door. As he reached for the door knob, he turned to look back at the priest. "But I can tell you one thing: talking to you about this has made me feel a whole lot better."

Mac stared at him as Harrison left, then began to pace angrily about his tiny office. He felt as though he were the butt of some practical joke he didn't understand. "What was that all about? Is he angry with the Church? Is he trying to get back at it by mocking the sacraments? Is he making all this up to make me look foolish? Or could he sincerely be regretful about what he's done and just doesn't know how to express himself? Whatever is going on, I don't get it, and I don't like it."

If Harrison was playing some sort of game - and Mac conceded that he couldn't be positive that was the case - it was a game he didn't want to play. There were real people out there in his congregation and in his city who needed help, who wanted spiritual comfort. Those were the people Mac became a priest to serve, not Carter Harrison, whoever he was.

Over and above his own disquiet, what bothered Mac the most were the implications for the United Fund. Mac had been active in the organization for many years and felt it played a vital role in the community. "It needs a leader with vision and compassion, not someone who wants to waste time playing games with a parish priest," he thought angrily. He felt that he should alert Preston Charlton or someone else on the United Fund Board of Trustees about his concerns about Harrison, but he could see no way to do so without mentioning the man's confessions. It was a conundrum for which Mac had no solution.

* * * * * * * * * *

While Mac was wrestling with his dilemma, his wife was dealing with one of her own. Ever since her first sexual encounter with Carter Harrison, Colleen's conscience had been flaying her for her betrayal of Mac. Her husband was the best man she'd ever met. Not only was he devoted to his congregation and his community but she knew for certain that he was devoted to her. Yet Harrison had somehow managed to tempt her to cheat. He'd taken her to levels of sexual ecstasy she'd never previously experienced, and now she felt like an addict needing more. One minute she would curse herself for her weakness and swear she'd have nothing more to do with Carter ever again. The next minute she'd find herself replaying their two sessions in her mind and throb with desire for more. She hated the man but she needed him too. Desperately she tried to resist calling him again.

As she sat at her desk, beset by her conflicting emotions, she was startled by her telephone. When she answered, she was startled again to hear Carter Harrison's voice. He didn't bother with social pleasantries; his tone was curt and demanding. "Make some excuse to your husband. You're going to meet me at the beach this weekend. Leave before noon on Saturday and drive straight to the Royal Sands Hotel. Don't bother to bring any underwear."

"But, but . . ." Colleen stuttered.

"You heard me. Just do it," Harrison commanded, and abruptly hung up.

That evening when Mac got home, Colleen could tell that something was on his mind. She'd always been able to read him well, but when she asked him about it, he dismissed her concerns. "It's nothing important, just a little problem with one of the parishioners."

When he didn't offer any more information, Colleen decided not to pursue the issue because she had one of her own to advance. "Have you got a problem if I go out of town this weekend? My sister called and asked me to come visit."

"There's nothing wrong with Megan, is there?" Mac asked.

"No," Colleen said. "It's just that we haven't seen each other in a while and she wanted to get together." She paused and then added, "We'll probably drive over to the beach - Megan wants to go there one more time before the end of the season."

"That's no problem, babe," Mac said. "Give her my best."

That night Mac had trouble getting to sleep as he continued to dither about his encounter with Carter Harrison. Finally he decided that although he couldn't say anything to anyone, he had an obligation to try to find out how things were going at the United Fund. "I'll pay a visit there tomorrow morning and see what I can learn," he thought, and that decision allowed him to relax enough to sleep.

Colleen also had trouble sleeping, and Carter Harrison was also the cause. The need to submit to him, to experience the sexual thrill of his dominance was a compulsion she could not withstand. She lay in bed trying to rationalize her behavior. "It's just a fling," she told herself. "Lots of people do it. It doesn't mean anything." She promised herself she would pursue it only long enough to get it out of her system and then return to her "normal" life.

A few minutes later she decided she must be a sex addict, struggling with her compulsion. If it was an illness, she thought, then she wasn't really responsible for her actions. But she dealt with addicts and people who rationalized their negative behavior all the time at the Women's Shelter; she felt like a hypocrite for trying to use the same shallow excuses for herself.

Feeling defensive, she finally decided that Mac's role in the church and the community put an unfair level of pressure on her. "It's not fair to expect me to be perfect all the time. Besides," she thought, "Mac's too nice, too considerate. Sometimes I feel smothered." But she'd known the kind of man Mac was when she married him. And when she was honest with herself, those characteristics were what had attracted her to him in the first place.

What hurt the worst was knowing how much Mac needed her. When she'd met him she found a lost soul, a vet struggling to deal with the aftermath of war. Her most vivid memory from those days was the night he'd broken down and told her the story of the death of his best friend. His story frightened her, mainly because she couldn't believe this gentle man had been such a cold-hearted killer. But he'd shown her the medal they gave him, and when he took her to Section 60 in Arlington to see Rico's grave, she knew what he'd told her was true.

Yet at the same time she was impressed that, although injured and vulnerable, he had chosen to try to work out his issues in divinity school. As she grew to know him better, she saw a kind and caring person, and she believed she could help him regain his confidence and fulfill the promise she saw in him.

And he'd done so. She took quiet pride in knowing that she'd helped him rise from the ashes of the war to become someone who was widely looked up to in the community, even as he maintained his quiet, unassuming nature.

Yet she'd heard his nightmares and she could tell that he was still fragile. She knew that he relied on her strength and support as an ongoing bulwark against any threats to his stability. It was for that reason that she was so deeply ashamed of what she was doing. She knew she wasn't just breaking her wedding vows, she was risking the well-being of this man who depended on her.

If Mac had happened to check his wife's pillowcase the next morning, he would have found it very damp.

Once he got to his office at St. Ann's the next morning, Father Mac called Bill Simpson at the United Fund and made an appointment to see him that afternoon. Mac wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he hoped he might gain some insight into Carter Harrison's strange behavior.

As he was walking down the corridor toward Bill's cubicle, he was surprised to see Carter Harrison coming the other direction. Remembering his last encounter, Father Mac tensed as Carter approached, but the man merely said, "When you get through with your meeting, Father Mac, please come see me in my office. I have something to share with you."

Unwillingly, Father Mac agreed. He would have preferred that Carter not know he was in the building. Now he felt he couldn't discuss the situation with Bill for fear of getting the staffer in trouble. Frustrated, he had a brief discussion with Bill on the homeless problem, and then reluctantly made his way to Harrison's office.

When he came to Harrison's door, the man waved him in and closed the door behind him. When Harrison returned to sit behind his desk in his high-backed executive chair, Father Mac saw that the desk sat on a platform about eight inches high, making any visitor have to look up to Harrison. Father Mac mentally shook his head at such an obvious ploy, but he said nothing.

Harrison sat there looking smugly at the priest. Father Mac kept silent, and finally Harrison spoke up. "I know we aren't in your office, Father Mac, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make one last confession."

Father Mac looked at him sharply. "Carter, I told you before that I don't want to hear your confession if you're not sincere."

"But this is different," Harrison said with a smirk. "I haven't committed this sin yet. I just wanted to confess that I'm going to do so this weekend. My lover and I are going to the beach together, and we will definitely indulge in all sorts of adulterous behavior. I just thought I should confess now so I won't have to trouble you later."

Father Mac stood up angrily. "Let me be as clear as possible: I will pray for your salvation, but I cannot serve as your confessor any longer. You're making a mockery of a sacred rite, and I won't be a part of it."