The Original Sinner: The Saint Part 30

The hint of a smile faded from his face.

"Take heart," S0ren said. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

S0ren hung up the phone.

"Girlfriend?" she asked.

"That was my sister Elizabeth. Half sister. You'll meet her at some point this weekend."

"How many brothers and sisters do you have? And why are you dressed like that?"

"I have three sisters," he said, sitting on the kitchen table. "And this is a suit. Do you not approve?"

"You look amazing. I didn't expect you in, like, a business suit." She grabbed the lapels of his jacket as she pretended to examine his neck. "No collar. Weird. No tie. Even weirder."

"I have the tie. I haven't put it on yet."

"Leave it off. You look good in normal-person clothes."

"Thank you. I am attempting to stay incognito this weekend. A priest at a funeral and everyone wants to talk about G.o.d and the afterlife with you."

"Can't imagine why they'd think a priest would want to talk about G.o.d."

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" He grinned at her. "Car's on the way. Would you like to see the house?"

"No."

"No?"

"Well, yes. I do. But I don't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not ready to know that my fantasy of your bedroom doesn't match the reality. I'm guessing there's no hot tub in there."

She expected S0ren to laugh but instead he took her by the wrist and pulled her closer to him. He put his hands on each side of her neck and caressed her jawline with his thumbs.

"Little One, there is something you'll have to understand. Your fantasies about us and the reality will not match."

She raised her chin.

"You don't know what I fantasize about. How do you know?"

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and she closed her eyes, relis.h.i.+ng the touch of his lips on her skin.

"A fair point," he said, brus.h.i.+ng her hair off her shoulder. Outside the house she heard an engine. "Our chariot awaits us."

Eleanor heard a car door open and close. S0ren walked into the next room and came back with a small suitcase and a black garment bag over his shoulder. Meanwhile she had an army green duffel bag with a large yellow pin on it that read Jesus Loves You. Everyone Else Thinks You're an a.s.shole.

S0ren started to pick up her duffel bag, but she took it from him. He had enough burdens to bear this weekend. She could carry her own d.a.m.n luggage.

Outside in the back of the rectory sat a black BMW M3.

"Nice," she said, running her fingers over the still warm hood. A woman got out of the driver's seat and shut the door behind her.

"Sam?" S0ren asked, raising an eyebrow at the driver-an incredibly beautiful woman with a s.h.a.ggy pixie cut wearing a thick leather jacket and black jeans.

"This is as understated as Kingsley gets and you know it."

"Eleanor, this is Sam-Kingsley's second-in-command."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Eleanor said.

"You and me both, beautiful," Sam said with a wink. She held out the keys to S0ren.

"She's the driver," S0ren said.

Sam looked at Eleanor.

"It's a stick."

"I love a stick."

"Then here you go," Sam said and tossed Eleanor the keys.

Eleanor caught the keys in midair. "You're not kidding? I'm driving?"

"Of course you are." S0ren opened the back and put his luggage in. "My first car was a motorcycle."

"You don't know how to drive a car?" She would have been more shocked if he'd confessed to not knowing how to read.

"Never took the time to learn," he said without apology. "Are you comfortable driving?"

"Of course I am. My first bike was a car."

"Good," he said. He opened the pa.s.senger-side door.

"Not good. Community service? Probation? No getting a license until I'm eighteen? Remember all that?"

"Taken care of." Sam pulled a manila envelope out of her jacket pocket and handed to her.

Eleanor opened the envelope and found a driver's license with her picture on it, a high school ID card to some school in Long Island and an insurance card for the BMW.

"What the h.e.l.l?" Eleanor asked.

"In case you get pulled over," Sam said. "But try not to do that."

"Who's Claire Haywood?" Eleanor glanced back down at the driver's license and noticed the name and birth date. "And why did Kingsley make me a year younger?"

"Because he made you my sister," S0ren said in a tone of abject disgust.

"What?" She looked at S0ren and then Sam again.

"King said you'd be p.i.s.sed," Sam said to S0ren, a wide grin on her face. "He told me to remind you that Claire is the only teenage girl in the world you could be alone with in a car without raising eyebrows."

"He might be right. Doesn't mean I have to like it," S0ren said, almost smiling, but not quite. "Tell him I get the joke. And tell him I don't find him amusing."

"I will pa.s.s that right along, Padre," Sam said.

"I don't care who the h.e.l.l she is. I have a fake driver's license. If you both don't get out of the way, I'm taking off on my own."

"I'm out of here." Sam gave them both a salaam-style bow. "You two kids have fun at the funeral."

"Keys are in the ignition," he said and Sam walked over to his Ducati.

Eleanor threw her duffel bag in the trunk and got behind the wheel.

"So we're doing this?" she asked as S0ren got into the pa.s.senger side.

"We are."

"We're going to your father's house in New Hamps.h.i.+re. This is a real thing. This is not a joke. And I am driving."

"All of that is correct. Are you nervous?"

Eleanor didn't answer. Instead she watched Sam rev up his Ducati and head out to the street. The woman handled the bike like a pro. How was it that S0ren had all these amazing friends she knew nothing about?

She started the car and closed her eyes as the engine purred to life.

"Eleanor? Do you and the car need a moment alone together?"

"I came already. Let's go."

She drove out of the wooded back driveway. With the new trees he'd planted in early spring, the rectory now stayed hidden almost completely from the church. People could get in and out without anyone noticing. Wasn't that convenient?

"I have no idea where I'm going," Eleanor said as she turned onto Oak Street.

"I know where we're going."

"I also have no idea what you and I are going to talk about for the next four hours."

"We can talk about whatever you like."

"Can we talk about your father?"

"I wouldn't advise it."

"Can we talk about Kingsley and what his deal is?"

"That's a more complicated question than four hours could cover."

"So the whole 'we can talk about whatever I want to talk about' was ..."

"Not an accurate statement."

"I give up."

"Don't give up, Little One."

"Fine. So ... hobbies?"

"Piano playing."

"Phobias?"

"All my fears are rational."

"Pet peeves?"

"Calvinism."

Eleanor glowered at him.

"What?"

"Calvinism? Your pet peeve is Calvinism?"

"Yes."

Eleanor sighed as she turned onto the highway.

"This is gonna be a long drive."

Luckily S0ren came to her rescue. More accurately, his little sister did.

"We should talk about Claire since she is your new ident.i.ty."

"Claire's your younger sister, I guess."

"One of two. Freyja lives in Denmark. We have the same mother."

"And Claire?"

"Claire is the daughter of my father's second wife. She was born when I was fifteen, although I didn't know she existed until my older sister-Elizabeth-found out and told me about her. I met her for the first time when she was three."

"So Claire's a year younger than me, then?"

"Yes. Does that bother you?"