“Come in,” Madge said, looking up when someone knocked on her office door.
It was probably Cyrus, who had started knocking every time he approached her in there.
She didn’t know if she should keep on working here or not. “Come in,” she called louder. So far, she hadn’t been able to stay away.
Sig Smith put his head around the door. He smiled, but his eyes showed he was uncomfortable. “Hi,” he said. “I hoped I’d catch you before you left.”
“Hi,” she said. This was the meeting she had dreaded. They had not been alone together since the night she ran from him.
Carrying mixed-colored roses, already in a vase, he slipped into the room. “For you,” he said, and put the vase on her desk. “A peace offering.”
A subdued rumble came from her striped chair where Bleu’s Killer had settled. The dog overflowed the seat, but evidently keeping Millie from her favorite spot was worth the discomfort.
“You’ve got a new watchdog,” Sig said. “Dogs.” He saw Toadie curled on the rug.
Millie sat on Madge’s lap. “They’re Bleu’s,” she said.
“You’re probably going to say no,” Sig said, “but I’d like to take you out for a meal.”
Madge tilted her head. She smiled at him.
“That’s a no?” Sig said.
“The way I behaved the other night was ridiculous. I apologize.”
He took a long breath through his nose. “I was the ridiculous one. You shouldn’t have to fight a man off after a couple of dates.”
“I’m not ready to go out again,” she told him.
“I didn’t think you would be.” With one finger, he touched the card among his roses. “I mean this,” he said and left her again.
This side of the house was cooler than the rest. All the trees screened the building. Madge figured that was why Bleu’s new buddies had followed her there. That and an opportunity to irritate the small dog they looked at with disgust.
What should she do?
The door opened once more, without a knock. “Okay if I come in?” Cyrus said. Despite the heat, he wore a cassock. His collar was a stark strip of white against solid black and to Madge he looked untouchable.
He did come in, even though she hadn’t responded to him. “Beautiful roses,” he said. “I saw Sig on his way out.”
“Yes.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
Cyrus bent to smell the roses. He glanced at the card and quickly away again. Madge picked it up, read, and handed it to him.
“You don’t have to show me this,” he said.
The card said: Please call me, and Sig had written his phone number under his name. Madge took it back from Cyrus, tore it in half and threw it away.
“Are you going to leave me?” Cyrus asked. “I feel you moving away.”
She tried to swallow and almost choked.
“You need water,” Cyrus said.
“No, I’m okay.” She wasn’t and doubted she ever would be.
He walked around to stand beside her, stroked her hair, rested his hand on the back of her neck. “If you go, I’ll keep wishing I’d done something to stop you. I mustn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“No.” She closed her eyes. Her lashes were wet.
“But…I’ll miss you forever. And I’ll always feel guilty that I couldn’t have made sure we didn’t get to the point where you don’t want to go, but you can’t bear to stay anymore.”
His hand settled on her shoulder and she put one of her own on top. “Cyrus…” Talking was too hard.
“I know. I understand, but you’ll take part of me—the best part.”
“I can’t go, unless you make me,” she said, broken. “You’ll have to tell me you don’t want me here anymore.” Madge leaned her forehead on her desk. “I’m not being fair, but I can’t help it.”
Softly, he kissed the nape of her neck. “Stay, Madge,” he said. “I don’t have anything to offer but what we have, but don’t leave me.”
Madge reached back to spread a hand over the side of his face. She ran her fingertips into his hair and turned her face toward him. When he looked at her, she kissed his cheek, crossed her arms around his neck and held so tightly her muscles hurt.
“Madge—”
She touched his mouth and shook her head. “Who knows if we aren’t the lucky ones?” she said. “We understand what we have.”
“I understand what you mean to me,” he said. He smiled slightly. “If you go, I’ll have to pipe zydeco into the rectory. Think how that would look when the archbishop visits.”
Madge smoothed her hands over his chest. “We can’t have that. I’ll have to stay, so you can blame me for the music. I’ll have to stay, because I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not.”
“Ever?” he said, and his voice caught.
“Ever.”