My Sister's Love

"If you truly don't have feelings for me, Clara, then I'll go and leave you in peace, but you'll have to look me in the eyes, tell me that, and make me actually believe it."

As much as it thrilled me to hear him say it, saying it aloud made it more real and more painful. "Leo, I do, I care for you, too, far more than I'd like to admit, but it's not that simple. Say, do you still want to go inside?"

"More than anything, I want you to come home. But for now, going inside would be nice."

***

We talked and talked that day, being open and honest with each other at least for the first time since Mary's passing and probably for the first time ever.

"I never expected it to happen, Clara. You were Mary's little sister and I'd have never believed it possible, but you've been there for the kids and for me, and I slowly came to realize in all that you've done and all the time that we've spent together that I care about you as one of my family, and then, that I love you. It's different than it was with Mary—I love you in your own way and I don't want to be without you. I want to give you the time you need to see how you feel about me—"

"I know how I feel, Leo. I love you, with all my heart! I do," I cried, before realizing what I'd said. "Oh, Leo, I love you so much...but I also know that it's no use. We can't be together; the Church won't allow it."

Leo looked pensive before slowly shaking his head.

"Clara, is that why you've been so withdrawn from me?"

My nod in reply was almost as loud as my "Yes." I was so ashamed, not mentioning my discussion with Sister Jana Katherine so long before.

He pulled me into his arms, embracing me, filling my heart with warmth and hope as his love seemed to flow into me. I stood there relishing his strength and the comfort he was giving me as I slipped my arms around him and pulled him even closer. His lips brushed my cheek and then, for the first time, connected with my own.

My blood raced and my heart felt as if it was exploding in my chest as we came together. All the pent up desire in our hearts flowed between us, pulling us together and binding us as one, like only true lovers can.

Only true lovers we weren't and the impossibility of our situation came crashing back down on me second later, though, as I recalled what I'd just said. I started shaking my head as I tried to separate from him and fight off tears.

"Don't be afraid, Clara. It's going to work out for us."

"No, Leo, it won't. The Bible says that one can't marry their brother's wife or their sister's husband, and the Church forbids it, too. No matter how much you love me and how much I love you, it won't allow us to be together."

I moved, placing the balls of my fists against his chest, but he didn't release me, only smiling.

"You have to let me go, Leo. It's not right!"

"Sweetheart, what if I told you the Bible doesn't say what you think?"

His question confused me, for I'd read those passages any number of times. "What?"

Leo was shaking his head, and, quite unfathomably, smiling. "Clara, the Bible says a man can't marry his wife's sister to vex her—that could be through either polygamy or divorce—but once the wife dies, the marriage is ended. 'Til death do us part,' remember? If we were to marry someday, I wouldn't be marrying my wife's sister but my late wife's sister. Then it should be allowed."

"But the Church doesn't see it that way!"

"I know, but I'm a lawyer, Clara. I've lain awake nights thinking about it, when I'm not thinking of you, and I've read Leviticus 18 and the 1917 Canon of Church Law over and over. Leviticus 18:18 and the pertinent part of 1917 don't agree on our case. See, I grew up a Methodist but converted to Catholicism for Mary, so I've probably studied this more than many people who grew up Catholic, and this part in particular. Words mean things, Clara; practicing law, I have to know the words and their meanings, and I know I'm right about this. We just have to get it in front of the Bishop, make the case for dispensation, and get him to agree."

"But if he doesn't? We'll be stuck, so close together but too far apart."

"Clara, do you love me?"

"With all my heart."

"Then trust me."

***

Chapter 12

Still upset with my dad over his betrayal of me, I barely spoke with him that evening, claiming fatigue, which, while an excuse, was actually true. Leo stayed up with my parents while I went to bed, sleeping soundly.

We saw Sister Jana Katherine the next day and Leo presented our case in letter form; he'd written it while I was asleep. She read it carefully and then looked at us as poker-faced as I've ever seen. She asked a few questions of Leo, concluding with "Do you love Clara and want to spend the rest of your days with her?"

"Yes, Sister. Very much so."

"And Clara, do you love Leo with all your heart and wish to be with him until death do you part?"

"Yes, Sister," I said, probably too enthusiastically. I could see the hint of a smile on her face.

"Hmmm...hmmm..."

My eyes were pleading with her as she looked at me. "Okay...I'll sponsor your application and will make the call to Father Sean Patrick."

The poor sister probably hadn't been squeezed so hard in many years but I could tell from the hug she gave me in return that she was happy for me and for us.

With Sister Jana Katherine's assistance, we saw the father, our parish priest, the next day, and he helped arrange an appointment with Bishop Crane's deputy the following day, but only because we had to return to Columbus for the children.

We arrived at St. Francis de Sales Roman Catholic Church an hour before the appointed time. It was a large parish church in Southwest Schuylkill serving primarily those of Irish descent, but Bishop Crane was its pastor as well as being an Auxiliary Bishop of the archdiocese. We sat on the hardwood bench in the hall outside the main office awaiting our appointment.

"It'll work out, sweetheart," he said, holding my hand to stop my fidgeting. When I was at least a little calmer, he patted my hand and started to massage his stump below his knee.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"Sometimes, but mostly from the rubbing of the prosthesis. Some massage, a shrinker sock, and some salve help but I haven't been able to release it much on this trip."

"I'm so sorry, Leo." My hand gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

Footsteps and the tapping of a cane coming from down the hall drew my attention. A gray-haired man in his fifties or early sixties wearing a collar was approaching. He spotted Leo's massage and then his cane and nodded. "The War?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you do in the War?"

"I was initially assigned to aerial observation, reconnaissance, sir, flying low, taking pictures, and dodging ground fire, but one day my picture taking interfered with my dodging and I spent the rest of the war and beyond recovering."

The priest nodded. "Captain Walsh. Let's see about getting you back home and off your feet a little quicker, then. Come on in."

Father Jeremy introduced himself and then escorted us through the outer office to his small personal office beyond. "Have a seat, please. I've already looked at your file from Father Sean Patrick, instructions from Bishop Crane, and the correspondence on the issue from Bishop Hartley in Columbus."

On hearing the name of the bishop of the Columbus archdiocese, I looked, wide-eyed, at Leo, who gave a "figured it couldn't hurt"-type look, before the bishop's assistant started asking us pointed questions. I felt on the verge of shaking throughout, but Leo was strong and seemed, in my mind, at least, to present our case well. The Father stepped out a bit later, apparently to speak with the bishop, but returned a few minutes later. He asked a couple of questions before nodding.

"Thank you, children. We'll be in touch."

Leo replied, "Thank you, Father," and I repeated the words, wondering how quickly we'd receive his answer.

***

It wasn't quick.

Leo and I returned to Columbus, he to his room and I to mine, and we waited, with each day and each week seeming to last forever. Weeks turned to months, but we spent them talking with each other, getting to know each other far better than we already did, while caring for and playing with our children as they grew and learned. In hopes that our petition for dispensation would be approved and that we'd be able to move forward quickly, we went to counseling with Father Bartolomé, our local parish priest, and to the surprise of each of us, we learned even more about ourselves, each other, and us as a couple.

Mrs. Vincenti remained with us for a few weeks until we were able to find her employment with another family, so each night thereafter, after Mrs. Myers left for the evening, Leo and I would snuggle together on the couch, holding each other tight and kissing like teenagers while wishing we could do far more.

"I want you so much, Clara," he whispered, stroking my arm, my hair, or my face, and determinedly doing his best not to stroke other parts that ached for his touch even more.

An errant movement one evening resulted in his arm brushing my breast, flipping my nipple under my flannel gown. The material rubbing against me sent shivers up my spine and I gasped, grabbing his arm and holding it to me. I was crushing my bosom against him, rubbing against him for a moment before he stopped me and peeled us apart.

"Sweetheart, we've talked about this..."

"I know, Leo, I have to answer truthfully if the Bishop asks so we can't do anything, but this...surely they wouldn't hold this against us?"

"Remember, we're not going to give them the chance to hold it against us, no matter how much it hurts, right?"

I nodded, sighing in intense frustration, before I leaned in and kissed him again, my tongue darting into his lips. He returned the favor, swirling his tongue about me and causing me to quiver. I felt the sudden throb of his hardness that he tried so hard to keep away from me.

"We need to get to bed, Clara," he breathed, obviously as frustrated as I was with the whole situation.

We could have marched to his former Methodist church, joined with minimal hassle, and married the next day if we wished, but I was a Catholic at heart in addition to trying to be a good Christian, and I was determined to meet the Church's requirements and remain in good standing. Therefore, I nodded to him and placed my cheek against his, holding firm against the roughness of his evening shadow before kissing him again and pulling away while I still had the fortitude to do it.

"We definitely need to go to bed, Leo, but they won't let us for at least a little longer so sleep will have to do."

I didn't tell him, but I knew I was going to have something to confess to the priest before I fell asleep.

He was grinning at me as we went upstairs to our separate bedrooms.

"What?" I asked.

"I guess we'll take turns watching the kids while the other is in the confessional this weekend."

***

Bishop Hartley's assistant was dressed in his robe, unlike our almost casual meeting with Bishop Crane's aide in Philadelphia a few months earlier. We'd received the summons a couple of days earlier and I'd been so nervous I could barely eat, much less sleep. Now, I was in his office seated across from him while Leo and the children were in a hallway nearby.

"Miss O'Grady, as explained in our letter, we have a few follow-up questions related to your request to Bishop Crane for dispensation to marry your late sister's husband."

"Yes, Father?" I said, not sure what I was supposed to call him.

They were questions we'd been asked before and I was confused as to why he, or whoever had instructed him on this line of questioning, couldn't just look in the file. I answered each truthfully and watched as he took notes that were quite abbreviated in comparison to my responses. Then, I realized, he got to the real purpose of the questioning.

"And how long have you been in love with Captain Walsh? Was it before your sister's passing?"

Like an arrow to my heart, his accusation spelled disaster to my hopes, my dreams, and our desire to marry and be a family. I felt as if I was spinning, round and round, and unable to focus or respond effectively. My tongue felt like soggy shoe leather, thick and incapable of forming words. "Ah...Ahem..."

He looked at me over the top of his wire rim glasses, staring intently as I buried my future more deeply with each passing second. "Miss O'Grady?"

"I, ah, met Leo when I was 16...and when he and Mary were already deeply in love. I was taken by how nice he was, how handsome, and how much he'd been through, so I will admit to having had a pash on him, a teenage infatuation, but I didn't really fall in love with him, in the true sense, until after Mary died."

"Did you ever do anything to try to attract his attention, his romantic interest, from your sister? To draw him away from her?"

"Never!" I replied, with a hint of anger in my voice at his insinuation. "He was my sister's love, not mine, and I never tried to come between them. Even now, if there was only a way, I'd gladly give my life in place of hers so she could be here now with her children and with Leo. I loved her and miss her, and, as much as I love them as my own, I know Leo and her children do, too."

Surprisingly, he only nodded before looking down at his paper. On it, I could see one more line but couldn't read it due to my angle and distance. I knew it had to be the question of sexual congress with one another, that we'd both fought so hard to resist only to have other, entirely personal failings at our own hands.

"Miss O'Grady...Thank you. Just one more thing..."

My breath caught and my heart froze, knowing that there would be one last bombshell that would doom us. It was all I could do to force out my response.

"Yes, sir?"

"Please send in Captain Walsh on your way out."

***

"I can't believe he didn't ask about it!" I told Leo that evening as we snuggled together on the couch, but he shook his head.

"Sweetheart, what was the first question that he asked you at the start of the meeting?"

"Ahem...I don't remember. Something silly that we'd already answered, I think."

"No-oo, I don't think so. I believe, if he used the same list as for me, the first question he asked was how long it had been since your last confessional and if you had any sins you hadn't confessed, right?"

I slowly nodded. "Ye-ah, you're right! And you had us go to confessional yesterday..."

"If we'd already confessed our sins and done true penance for them, he wouldn't have need to ask the question, would he? And they wouldn't be able to hold it against us, even if we'd failed in a moment of weakness but had already done penance for it."

That realization was like a heavy burden, carried for so long, was suddenly lifted from me. "Leo, how'd you know?"

He smiled. "I told you I've had to do a lot of reading about the Church."

Laying against him on the couch, I hugged him tight, thankful to God that I had such a man to love and be loved by. He shifted, turning my head up so our lips could connect. As I did, my hand slid across his hardness, but rather than pulling away in fright as I'd always done, I stopped, sliding it down and cupping him. Unlikely with Alex those years ago, though, I was doing it for Leo rather than for my revenge, being gentle, feeling the swell of his testicles through his nightclothes. I was giving a gentle rub when his hand covered mine and stopped me.

"No, Clara. We're so close. We can do this together."

Pushing his hand away, I moved up and took his member in my hand and palm through his clothes. It felt huge to me as I pushed down and pulled up, causing his breath to catch. His eyes closed as his head rolled back on the sofa behind him. His breathing resumed, shallower and faster than before, with a little moan slipping from his lips. I wasn't sure if I was doing it right but he seemed to be intensely focused, and, apparently, enjoying it. I started working with my other hand and his legs spread more, giving me full access as I continued to work and pleasure him.

My right hand slipped off—well, it was actually on purpose—and rubbed his tummy before I moved it back into action. This time, though, I slipped it inside the top of his night pants where I grasped him.

Leo jumped, his head popping up, eyes wide, and he was about to object when I shushed him. I felt his hardness but the supple feel, so sensual within my grasp, as I started that up and down motion that he'd enjoyed through his flannel night pants. His moan, long, low, and quiet, made me want it for him more than anything in the—

"Clara, stop."

His hand was on mine, pulling me away from my incredible prize. I lost my grip and then my place in his pajamas before he pulled me close and put his arms around me.

I looked at him, shaking my head. "Leo, why? Why'd you stop me?"

He looked uncomfortable as he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Because I love you, Clara. What you were doing felt so good and I want it so badly, but...I don't want you feeling guilty or regretting anything, sweetheart. When we do this for real, really soon, I hope, we'll do it together, for both of us, without any guilt and without need for any confessions, okay?"

Nodding slowly, I slid an arm around him, thankful for him and hopeful that we really would be together soon so he could be my lover in body as well as in spirit.

***

"Captain Walsh, Miss O'Grady, may I speak with you for a moment?" asked Father Bartolomé after Mass one weekend in early December, about six weeks after our meeting with the bishop's assistant. Father Bartolomé had been Mary's friend and had given her Last Rites only to later agree, reluctantly, to serve as our counselor helping prepare us for marriage. However, after we overcame his initial doubts about the sincerity of our love and our petition, he'd come to encourage us and our goal, within the bounds of what the Church allowed, of course.

"What is it, Father?" I asked, wondering if he'd decided we needed another session.

"I've followed your course with interest throughout our counseling sessions, and have prayed fervently for you. And now," he said, pulling a letter from the pocket of his robe, "this has come for you. I was going to deliver it tomorrow, but since you're both here today..."

He handed it to Leo who passed it on to me since he was holding Amanda in his arm.

"What is it, Mommy?" demanded Christopher, pulling my hand.

"Here, Christopher, hold Daddy's hand and we'll see in a moment."

He and the others watched intently as I looked at the envelope; it was from the Bishop in Philadelphia. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely open it and reading it was even worse. Still, the important words jumped out at me: "no malice," "in the best interest of the children," and the most important part of all, "request for referenced dispensation is"—

"Leo! The Bishop's approved it! We can get married! He said yes!"

There were hugs, there were kisses, and there was Leo shaking the smiling priest's hand, repeatedly. Father Bartolomé, who'd been copied on the letter and already knew the outcome, was a small man in comparison to Leo, and it looked like Leo was practically picking him up off the ground with each shake.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you!" he said.

Christopher understood enough of what I'd said that he was jumping up and down and several other parishioners who'd come to know something of our plight came over to congratulate us.

There was no time to waste, so we called my parents on the telly that evening. We were so close as we listened to them together on the little handset, holding it between our ears, and taking turns speaking into the mouthpiece on the base. They agreed to our plan, so Leo, who'd already spoken with his boss, arranged leave from work on Monday while I made final arrangements.