Chapter Text
It was February of the next year, Robert was just coming down from giving a homily that he’d been particularly proud of. Cecelia wasn’t there as much as usual-she’d had a busy theater season and had been in demand to play a few parts which she was happy to portray. Lent was coming up, Robert had been planning a start of Lent Mardi Gras party for the parish, inviting Cecelia to come but she said that she had other plans at the moment.
Truthfully, Cecelia, being much of a homebody in her own right did not want to go. Robert had heard her one day on the phone to her psychiatrist, trying to get an appointment. He was a little worried for her mental health when he overheard that but seemed to take it personally when she did not show up to a few events at the parish. Cecelia was never one for mingling with others, preferring to stay aloof and keep her alone time to herself but in spite of the fact her depression seemed to be worsening he just ignored it.
Sitting down at his desk Robert sighed, wondering what would happen next. Cecelia had been postpartum since the last of December when she’d delivered him. It had been an interesting time for him, learning about life in utero through her then it was all over in a flash. Cecelia had shown him the pictures of how big she had gotten with him which was another little miracle in itself. She’d been postpartum now for almost two months, getting back into the swing of things with her acting job and the parish.
In spite of all the things he’d witnessed over the last year, both real and supernatural, Robert had a hard time believing that mental health was real and a legitimate problem. Cecelia had suffered from depression for as long as she had known him; Christmastime brought it on as she had no family to celebrate with so she usually celebrated it alone. Robert was attempting to bring her into the parish family more so she could celebrate with everyone else but she didn’t seem to want that at all. She was a loner, comfortable by herself which was another thing Robert couldn’t understand.
He took up a pen from his desk, writing down a homily after reviewing the text for the next day’s service. Cecelia wouldn’t be there, she was off on her vacation so he’d have no idea if she was actually livestreaming the service or not. Glancing down at the paper before him with frustration in his mind he wondered if he was going too far but he doubted it. There was always the gamble that she wouldn’t tune in and be ignorant of all he said.
Robert spent a few moments in silent prayer, wondering what to do with Cecelia, how to get her more involved in parish life. He’d planned a low key potluck Mardi Gras party in a deliberate attempt to try to get her interested in it, mingling with the parishioners. The party was going to be in a few days but Cecelia yesterday had said that she was going to a different party which was frustrating. He go to all the effort just for her and she didn’t even express an interest in going! She was a Catholic but going to the Mardi Gras party wasn’t required for everyone. Ash Wednesday was required so he knew that he’d see her there.
Ever since she’d given birth Robert had been obsessed with her. He fantasized about her regularly, relived that intense night when the lust dust had fallen and they’d actually had sex. Both of them had repented as they should-they were under the influence and not in their right minds but Robert had secretly enjoyed it. Even her supernatural pregnancy had deepened his love for her. Cecelia, much like Robert, had never let on to how she felt.
That was the crux of the matter. Robert didn’t know where Cecelia stood. They couldn’t exactly engage in flirtatiousness with other people around but he sensed that he was losing her. With depression came a lot of isolation, something Robert didn’t want to happen. He had decided on being provoking now, trying to force her to talk to him.
Even though his conscience was niggling at him that it was the wrong avenue to approach things by. Robert was known for being a little reckless now and then, he lacked a filter at times and this time was going to be no exception.
**
Shortly before the homily was to be livestreamed, Cecelia came into her house, putting her grocery bags on the counter. She took off her leather jacket, slung it on the back of a chair and began to put her groceries away. The actress had just finished a performance of I Remember Mama, she was in her final week of performances as the theater was closed during Lent. Putting her car keys in her jacket pocket, she took out a few boxes, put them in the upper cabinets, put the milk away, and she was done.
It was time for the homily to be livestreamed so Cecelia accessed the Facebook page, clicked on the live video. She grabbed her lunch, a pan fried chicken sandwich, then picked up her phone. In the living room she put the phone down, propped up by the ring on the back, then picked up half her sandwich and started to eat. Robert was in his usual green for ordinary time, he gave the gospel read for the day then started in on the homily.
“The text today reminds me of people who do not really care about anything,” he started. Cecelia paused, wondering where this was going. “you hear about everyone who celebrated or mourned with people who had gained or lost someone, it reminds me of the stations of the cross where Jesus was surrounded by indifferent onlookers. What is it going to take for people to actually care?” Robert’s voice cracked a little bit as he spoke which made Cecelia look at him questioningly. What was he getting at? “it reminds me of people who have mental health issues. They spend so much time in their self inflicted bubble, being really not caring about everyone else, being very jaded about everything in their lives. That’s what depression is, being so jaded, lazy, they don’t care about anyone but themselves and letting everyone else around them suffer for what they don’t do. Depression is a very selfish thing to have-you disappear and become so consumed with your own problems you let everything around you go to hell. Depression is indifference.”
What?! Cecelia’s brain went off. He did not just do that! Call her a lazy selfish person for having a mental illness that he knew nothing about! Even after she carried him for 9 months having a few attacks of depression in the process he still didn’t understand what depression really was! He saw what he wanted to see and Cecelia didn’t think that he would ever understand it enough. Robert really didn’t think before he spoke which was nothing new to her but that time he hit too close to home!
What Robert didn’t understand he took no time to research so he could understand it. Cecelia knew he had a prideful streak in him but this time he really did go too far. He as good as called her a negative lazy person who was too consumed in her own problems to help everyone else. A light went off in Cecelia’s eyes as he finished the mass intentions. Robert was pretty transparent in his motives-this was a calculated ploy by him to try to provoke her into retaliating.
So transparent. Cecelia was an actress by trade and he had no idea who he was messing with. The problem was that she was a high profile woman in the community, very reclusive but she did so like to have a good party once in awhile. The actress smiled to herself as she thought of her new friend Andre and how much he liked to throw a good party. Cecelia now thought of herself as a woman who had two roles to play-herself in her regular parish job, but she could get in touch with her party self after hours. There was marked recklessness in depression as people with it sometimes went to extremes to feel happiness at least temporarily and that was what Robert didn’t know.
Feeling her inner Cruella De Vil showing through, Cecelia closed the mass then picked up her phone to dial Andre. “Hello, Andre,” she purred through the phone. “I’m afraid my priest has rather upset me and I’d like to get a little revenge. What say we have a party on Mardi Gras-one that far outstrips the measly party the parish is putting on? Let’s hear what those hamsters on wheels in your head has for ideas..”
**
The day of Mardi Gras came. Cecelia was clad in her working clothes as she was having a half day in order to accommodate her party. Andre had come through brilliantly with his plans and she knew that it would be a shindig to remember. At the moment she was wearing her conservative black skirt, tights and heels, her shirt was flowy with a floral design on a green background. Robert thought that shirt looked beautiful on her but he was banned from complimenting any woman on the account of his priesthood.
When lunchtime came and Cecelia was about ready to head out she asked to see Robert in his office for a moment. When he obliged, his heart speeding up a little bit to see what she was going to day. Cecelia shut the door quietly then turned to him with narrowed eyes which he knew was not good. “So, you owe me an explanation for trashing people with depression recently.”
Her anger was quite palpable even if her voice was clear of any such intonation. “You saw the livestream?” was all he could come up with.
“Clearly I did. You know I have depression!” her voice was a little louder and more cutting now. “What did you have to gain by calling us lazy miserable jaded creatures who don’t give a shit about anyone else?”
Cecelia was fired up and Robert knew that he would not be able to come off looking good in her presence. “What were you thinking by making fun of me like that? I can retaliate but answer me this-did you ever catch me calling you names?”
She had him there. “I have never heard you call me a name,” he admitted.
“Exactly! Do you have any idea on how much that hurt me?” she gave him a look of genuine anguish on her face, the sadness in her eyes and inner corners of her eyebrows turned up a little bit. Robert was surprised-he’d never seen Cecelia display such emotion. “Even though I may not show it the hurt is still there! You humiliated, shamed and angered me, not to mention the sorrow I feel because you think so less of me! You really think that I am all of those things, lower than a snake because I have mental health problems!” Cecelia wiped at her eyes as Robert got up from his desk.
His heart fell as he saw Cecelia’s eyes start swimming. Never did he imagine she would be affected so much by his words. “Cecelia-”
“There isn’t anything you can say now,” she interrupted him. “you hurt me too deeply, you insulted my very soul, ripped it open to leave a deep wound on it. I don’t know if I can forgive you for that as you could do that to any other part of me that you know about. You’ve turned into a liability so I’m not telling you anything else that’s going on in my life.”
That was a door slammed shut in his face that he didn’t see coming. “We can still be friends.”
“NO, we can’t !” Cecelia told him. “I can’t trust you now you’ve betrayed me. How else would you describe what you did to me? Rationalize it all you want but you know that it is a deep spiritual wound. I told you about me, you chose to focus on one of the negative facets and shame me for it. You don’t know how deeply upset I am and how hurt I’m feeling!”
For a split second Robert could see the hurt on her face clear as day. Cecelia was an actress so she had complete control of her expressions and feelings. He used to wonder what it would take so she would be real with him. It struck him now in that moment she always was real with him she just had a different way of showing it.
But that was a lesson learned too late. Cecelia turned and left the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She grabbed her bag, ignoring Robert’s plead to come back, then went into the parking lot. She got into her car, wiping her eyes, leaning back with her eyes closed to try to calm down a little. Normally she didn’t really like confrontation but it had to be done. Cecelia had been psyching herself up carefully in order to really project how she felt. She didn’t have rely too much on her acting skills in order to get the point across-he knew.
Now it was time to focus on getting the party ready that night.
**
The party was to be a mini New Orleans style Mardi Gras minus the floats going down the street but plenty of jazz music, liquor and food. Cecelia had brought several king cakes but ordered the little baby Jesus in them to be withheld for choking concerns. There were games for the kids including a find the baby Jesus scavenger hunt that was going to be a hit-Cecelia knew it. Word had been put out over a week and a half ago, come in costume, bring the kids, liquor served at a certain hour. A local southern fare restaurant had been contracted for catering so Cecelia was going all out.
Andre, her friend, was stinking filthy rich and he loved a good time. He was dressed as the ringmaster to the Mardi Gras, red peacoat, white chino pants, an ascot and a top hat. Andre was a dirty blonde with curly hair, piercing blue eyes, stocky build, and he was eager to go. The venue was set up across the street from the church in order to maximize parking. Andre had a grudge against the church-one of his friends was bullied by a priest in the church so he was happy to try to occlude the people from going to church as much as possible.
“Let’s get this show on the road!” Cecelia had about six people, actor friends all in costume and ready to get the events moving. Cecelia was dressed in a Victorian outfit, full bodice, long skirts with a mask on her eyes to conceal her identity. In the 19th century it was traditional to have the running of the Mardi Gras-people dressed up would go from house to house and the game was to guess the runners’ identities. “Everyone ready? Doors open at 4!”
A chorus of yes told her that she was ready and willing to go. Andre queued up the music, the parking lot was full of revelry already so Cecelia opened up the doors. “Welcome everyone! Liquor will be served at 8 so that’s the time to get the kiddies out of here!” she greeted everyone, standing aside so they could all come in.
Across the parking lot Cecelia could see Robert who was clad in his usual black with the collar, greeting a few people who had showed up for the quiet potluck. He glanced up and saw her but Cecelia knew that he wouldn’t recognize her in the Victorian getup she was wearing. She openly smirked, her red lips would cause some comment but she didn’t care.
“All right, kids!” as the emcee Cecelia had the microphone hooked into one of her ears. She strode to the far end of the gym, picked up a beanbag then said, “first one to knock one of those wooden pins down gets a stuffed animal prize! Later on we’ll be having a contest to find the baby Jesus!”
That night had it all-Cecelia and her staff superintended the whole party, orchestrating the games for the kids, helping to coordinate the catering, dancing with other adults and in general having a good time. After 8 PM the kids were exhausted so they were taken home, the after hours crowd came in and there was a lot of liquor being served. People lived it up, there was a lot of making out going on then midnight came.
“All right everyone, we are closing. Remember you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here! Our liquor license just expired.” Cecelia announced.
Everyone grumbled good naturedly as they got their coats and filed out, thanking Cecelia, Andre and the party staff for a wonderful time. Andre hugged his friend as they shut up the venue, walking out to their cars. “I heard we did a great spread-a lot of people were skipping the church event and coming right here to party.”
Cecelia hadn’t taken off her mask yet so she reached behind to undo the clasp. “I think it’s always nice for a person to have options.” she sighed.
“Something on your mind?” Andre asked her as the street light revealed her face clearly.
“Yeah,” she told him what had happened to her recently. “I’m still so hurt by it I can’t look him in the eye.”
“Aw, come on, girl,” Andre kissed the top of her head. “why don’t you head home, get a good night’s sleep in and see where you are in the morning? There’s still plenty of parties we can throw if you want to one up him a little more.”
“One upping in moderation is good-maybe I should go on a personal Lent mission myself,” Cecelia was thinking. “it would be good for me.”
“What kind of mission?”
“A vlogging mission. Each Friday I can pick one aspect of depression and write about it, then speak on it for my vlog through FB. Robert doesn’t have the depth to understand what it’s really like to be a person afflicted with it so I have a voice and I might as well use it.”
“I know you’d get inspiration! Let me know if you decide to crash the parish mission.” he said goodbye.