The tea reminded her of those first weeks from hell when she quit drinking. Father had stopped by her apartment several times a week, generously giving of his precious time to brew for her a pot of his special tea made from leaves shipped from some exotic place in South America. He claimed it had magical powers. Kathleen swore it made her hallucinate, causing painful flashes of bright light behind her eyes. That was before it made her stomach rock violently. Each time, Father stood patiently over her, telling her how God had different plans for her, or more precisely, telling the back of her head while she vomited her guts into the toilet.
Now she smiled up at him as he handed her a cup, pretending this was exactly what she craved. She owed this man so much, and yet he seemed to ask for so little in return. Pretending to enjoy his tea seemed a small sacrifice.
They all sat in front of the roaring fireplace in the soft leather chairs Father had received from a wealthy donor. Everyone sipped the tea, and Kathleen put the cup to her lips, making herself do the same. There had been little conversation. They were still a bit stunned from Father’s powerful performance. No one doubted the need for Martin to be taught a lesson. How dare he fall asleep.
She could feel Father watching the three of them, his diplomats to the outside world, as he called them. Each played an important role, assigned tasks that only he or she could deliver. In return, Father allowed them these private meetings, gracing them with his time and his confidences, both rare and special commodities. He had so many obligations. There were so many people who needed him to heal their wounds and save their souls. Between weekend rallies and daily lectures, the man had little time to himself. So many pressures, so much to expect from one person.
“All of you are very quiet tonight.” He smiled at them, sitting down in the large recliner set closest to the fire. “Did tonight’s lesson shock you?”
There were quick glances between them. Kathleen sipped her tea again, suddenly a preferable action to saying the wrong thing. She watched over the rim of her cup. Earlier, during the meeting, Emily had almost fainted. Kathleen had felt the woman leaning into her while the boa constrictor choked Martin, turning his face into a puffy crimson balloon. But she knew Emily would never admit to such a thing.
And Stephen, with his soft and…She stopped, trying to keep a promise to herself not to think of Stephen in that way. After all, the man was quite smart and certainly had other qualities that had nothing to do with his…Well, with his sexual preference. But she knew Stephen had probably been shocked and too much in awe to say anything. Perhaps that’s why Father’s eyes now met Kathleen’s and stayed there, as if the question had been addressed to only her. But they were friendly eyes, coaxing her, making her feel, once again, as though she was the only one whose opinion he cared about.
“Yes, I was shocked,” she said, and saw Emily’s eyes grow wide as if she were going to faint again. “But I understood the importance of the lesson. You were very wise in choosing a snake,” she added.
“And why do you say that, Kathleen?” Father leaned forward, encouraging her to continue, as if anxious to hear why he was so wise. As if he didn’t already know.
“Well, it was a snake, after all, that contributed to Eve’s betrayal and the destruction of paradise, just like Martin’s falling asleep could betray all of us and destroy our hopes for building our paradise.”
He nodded, pleased, and rewarded her with a pat on the knee. His hand lingered a bit longer than usual tonight, the fingers splaying onto her thigh, caressing her, making her feel warm-so warm she could feel his power radiating through her panty hose, through her skin, almost sending a shiver through her veins.
Finally he removed his hand and turned his attention to Stephen. “And speaking of our paradise, what have you learned about our possible transportation to South America?”
“Just as you thought, we’ll need to do it in several waves. Trips, perhaps of two or three dozen at a time.”
“South America?” Kathleen didn’t understand. “I thought we were going to Colorado.”
Stephen wouldn’t meet her eyes. He looked away, embarrassed, as if he had gotten caught revealing a secret. She looked to Father for an answer.
“Of course we’re going to Colorado, Kathleen. This is merely a backup plan. No one else knows, and it must not leave this room,” he instructed. She studied his face to see if he was angry, but then he smiled and said, “You three are the only ones I can trust.”
“So we are still going to Colorado?” Kathleen had fallen in love with the slides he had shown them of the hot springs, the beautiful aspen trees and wildflowers. What did she know about South America? It seemed so far away, so remote, so primitive.
“Yes, of course,” he reassured her. “This is just in case we need to leave the country.”
She must have not looked convinced, because he reached for her hands, taking them delicately in his as though they were fragile rose petals.
“You must trust me, my dear Kathleen. I would never let any harm come to any of you. But there are people, evil people, in the media and in the government who would be pleased to destroy us.”
“People like Ben Garrison,” Stephen said with an uncharacteristic snarl that surprised Kathleen and garnered a smile from Father.
“Yes, people like Mr. Garrison. He was only able to spend a couple of days inside the compound before we discovered his true mission, but we’re still not certain what he saw or what he knows. What lies he might tell the rest of the world.”
Absently, he still held Kathleen’s hands in his and began caressing the palms while he continued to address Stephen. “What do we know about the cabin? How did the feds even find out about it?”
“I’m still not sure. Perhaps a disgruntled ex-member?”
“Perhaps.”
“Everything is lost,” Stephen answered, looking at his hands, not able to meet Father’s eyes.
“Everything?”
Stephen only nodded.
Kathleen had no idea what they were referring to, but Father and Stephen often talked of secret missions that didn’t concern her. Right now all she could focus on was how Father’s large hands seemed to be massaging her small ones, making her feel special but at the same time, much too warm and suddenly much too uncomfortable. She wanted to pull her hands away but knew that would be wrong. Father only meant it as a gesture of compassion. How dare she think otherwise. She felt her cheeks flush at the mere thought.
“We have one loose end,” Stephen said.
“Yes, I know. I’ll take care of that. Will we need to…” Father hesitated as if looking for the correct word. “Will we need to accelerate our departure?”
Stephen pulled out some papers, along with a map, went to Father’s side and got down on one knee, showing him the items. Kathleen watched Stephen, concentrating on his gestures. He constantly amazed her. Though tall and lean with flawless brown skin, boyish features and a sharp mind, he appeared timid and quiet, as if always waiting for permission to speak. Father said Stephen was brilliant, but at the same time, he was too humble for his own good, slow to take credit and a little too ordinary in his mannerisms to stand out. He was the type of man who would not easily be noticed. And Kathleen wondered if that made his everyday job more or less difficult.
She tried to remember what it was that he did at the Capitol. Though she spent hours with Stephen and Emily in conversations like this, she knew little about either of them. Stephen’s position sounded like an important one. She had heard him mention something about his level of security clearance, and he was always dropping the names of senators and their aides whom he had talked to or whom he would get in touch with. Whatever his position was, it obviously helped Father and the church.