Deacon Gordon Lavoy walked into the Shore City Market with long, purposeful strides and grabbed a basket. There was a nearly palpable crackle of energy as every eye in the market followed the Deacon’s movements. The residents of Shore City just couldn’t see enough of their handsome and charming new clergyman. He didn’t need much in the way of food, but after the night he’d had, he could certainly use the pleasant atmosphere.
He walked into the fresh fruit area and perused several oranges, pretending to ignore the giggling and whispering women. His relaxed demeanor, handsome features, and ready smile meant no female in the town skipped his weekly sermon. He smiled and saw one particular young lady smile sheepishly in return.
Feeling more like the Gordon Lavoy who had taken this town by storm this summer he made his way to the frozen foods section hoping to find his favorite brand of ice cream. He would find it of course. The middle aged divorcee who ran this store would make sure it was stocked for him.
He grabbed the pint of Black Walnut and wiped away a bit of frost. He was about to close the door when he felt a tug on his sleeve, he turned and his smile, so recently found, was instantly lost. Looking first left and right, he angrily spat, “I told you to never speak to me again!”
She blinked, her long lashes brushing her cheeks, and said, “But, I need to talk to you.” Leaning closer, she paused, and lowered her voice. “You see, I’m…”
Gordon dropped his basket and tossed his ice cream into the freezer. He grabbed her arm firmly and pulled her close to him and walked her into the employee’s entrance to the freezer. He did so with his most winning smile. The one he reserved for the most faithful servants of the lord. Several of the shoppers noted not only his smile, but his close quarters with this woman. Smiles which had been sweet became decidedly sour.
“Deacon Lavoy, what-” she began.
“Don’t talk. Just don’t talk.” He said. He ran his hands through his hair. She opened her mouth one time to talk, but he put his hand up and she closed her mouth slowly.
Things had been going so well until now. Gordon had this town eating out of the palm of his hand. Cash was flowing into the church so fast he couldn’t keep count. Not that he was keeping accurate records on anything as trivial as cash. The problem was he needed several more months of cash before he left this backwater beach town behind him and the only way that was going to work was to keep the local women on the hook. As long as the possibility of winning the heart of the “sweet Deacon Lavoy” existed he could drain these lonely women of quite a bit of cash. It was a perfect plan.
Until last night, when he’d broken the cardinal rule. He’d bedded one of the lonely women. Once word got out that he was laying down with the parishioners things were bound to unravel. He could kiss the money good bye, and possibly his freedom if anyone bothered to look into his background.
He finally looked back at the young woman. She was certainly not a desperate middle aged woman and he could hardly blame himself for his indiscretion; or indiscretions if he was being honest with himself. She was just out of college with a perfect body and intensely blue eyes. She was wearing glasses today which she hadn’t been last night, but he had to admit it just made her that much sexier.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I had no right. I was just upset about last night.”
She tried to speak again, but Gordon again shushed her. He moved her close to him and held their bodies together. She gasped a bit and tried to pull back, but relented to his strong grasp. The remembered feel of her body pressed against his caused his breath to shorten and he looked into her eyes.
“I won’t say it was a mistake.” He said. “We made love last night. It was everything a man could want. Pleasure. Passion. Pain. But it can’t happen again.”
This time when she opened her mouth to speak his kissed her slowly and deeply. Gordon was reliving the passionate lovemaking of the night before and was grasping at her body when he realized she wasn’t kissing back. At least not with much passion. He must have done something wrong.
“Jessica, what is it?” He asked, hoping to salvage the situation.
“Well, the thing is Deacon Lavoy,” she said. “My name is Jamie. Jessica is my twin sister. She was very upset this morning and wouldn’t tell me why so I thought I’d talk to her Deacon about it.”
Gordon took an involuntary step back. Jamie adjusted her glasses and fixed her top where Gordon had nearly managed to pull it down. “I’ve never been much of a churchgoer myself.”
Jamie smiled at him. It was a smile she reserved only for the worst people she encountered. Gordon turned as she walked out the door into the market. As the door swung open he saw several faces staring back at him. They wore no smiles at all.
Jeff Ferry was born and raised in New Jersey. In 2014 he published a novel, The Dawn of Mars. He also had a recent short story, The Book of Shadows, published on Printers Row of the Chicago Tribune. He is a Mailman and member of the United States Military.
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