Sophie stood outside. The rain had been pouring for hours. She was cold and wet, but the fear of going inside was greater than the fear of catching cold. She passed by this place everyday and had never been tempted to go inside… those days had long past. So, why was she still standing there, wondering if she should try again?
Her mother had called that afternoon. “Sophie?” said the voice on the other line. “Mom? What’s the matter? You haven’t called me in five years. How did you even find this number?”
“Your father is dying.”
“Oh.”
“I think he wants you to be here.”
“Yes.”
“We’re at St. Mary’s Hospital, Room 402A.”
Dial tone…
Sophie hung up the phone and stared out her kitchen window. The sky was darkening and it was beginning to drizzle. She grabbed her coat and keys from the living room. Bruce was laying on the couch, shirtless, a beer in his hand, watching the game.
“Where you goin’, love?”
“Out.”
“Well, wait a minute—“
“I’ll be back. Don’t wait up for me.”
“Soph—“
“Bruce… I’ll be back.”
Sophie’s mind was in a whirl as she left her apartment building. She hadn’t seen her parents in years. Now Dad was dying? What would her mother say? She looked a wreck, had no job, and barely knew the man living with her. Sophie remembered the day that she left her parents’ house forever.
“Mom, I love him! It will all work out!” Sophie screamed.
“Sophie, he doesn’t love you! You’re seventeen for goodness sake!”
“Mom, you haven’t got a clue!”
“Soph…he impregnated you…”
“Not anymore…”
“What do you mean? You didn’t…”
“He came with me. They were very nice…said it wasn’t anything but cells at this point.”
“Sophie…”
“Mom, I knew what I was doing ok?”
Her mother started sobbing. Sophie’s dad had simply stood there, speechless.
“I didn’t know what else to do, Mom.”
“You could have talked to a bloody priest, first!”
“That wouldn’t have helped anything, Mom.”
“No, maybe it wouldn’t…”
Her dad had left the room. Sophie had just sat there—numb and empty. Her mother continued crying. Finally, Sophie’s dad reappeared carrying her school bag. It was full of clothes and toiletries.
“Dad, what—“
“Out.”
“What?”
“Get out, and don’t come back.”
“Are you joking me, Dad?”
Silence.
“Fine! I’m gone! Brad and I will get married and live happily ever after! You’ll see!”
Sophie grabbed her bag from the floor where her father had dropped it and stormed out the door. She had stolen her father’s truck and driven to Brad’s house. He wasn’t home. He wouldn’t answer his cell phone either.
Sophie moved into her best friend’s basement. Her dad came for the truck, but she didn’t see him. She got her friend to drive her to the bus station one day, and she used her last bit of money to get to downtown San Francisco. She bused tables at a Mel’s Diner and managed to get a shabby apartment. Brad never called back. The News said they found his body in the Bay… just another jumper for the month of November.
Sophie managed to find other guys over the years, but all the faces she had seen lying in her bed were now a blur. One had gotten her so drunk the night before, that she missed getting up for work the next day. There were plenty of people who could bus tables, so Mel’s Diner no longer required her services. That’s when she met Bruce.
He said he would take care of her. She didn’t have to worry anymore. And the first time he hit her and he’d never do it again, Sophie believed him. He hit her again—this time he left a mark. She told him to leave, but he just laughed and said she couldn’t get on without him. He was right. He paid most of the rent and kept her off the street. So, what was she to do? Bruce would stay.
So, Sophie tried to make the best of it. She would fix meals for herself and Bruce, and insist they eat at the card table and not the T.V. She had also tried looking for more work… but simply no one would a trashy looking girl with no experience and not even a high school degree. In the end, Sophie became a 22-year-old unmarried homemaker for an abusive boyfriend. Sometimes she wondered if Bruce even noticed when she brought flowers home for the card table, or that time she found that Van Gogh painting at Goodwill and hung it above the couch. Was anything worth it? Was her life even worth it? Maybe she ought to jump like Brad…maybe he was better off than she was.
All this replayed in Sophie’s head as she made her way to the hospital. No one smiled or even so much as glanced at her on the bus… This city, she thought, everyone is as miserable as I am. She melted into the crowded bus…just another nameless face.
Sophie settled next to an old woman who had a scarf around her head, and an old string shopping bag clutched in her gnarled hand. Sophie noticed she smelled like brandy and old cheese. The old woman turned to Sophie and smiled with decaying teeth. Sophie drew back, slightly disgusted, but managed a wan smile.
“What you doing?” the woman said in a thick Russian accent.
“I’m sorry?” Sophie replied, not really wanting to get into a conversation.
“I saaaay….What yooouuuu dooooing?” the woman said slower.
“Oh…ummm…I’m going to visit someone in the hospital,” Sophie replied.
“Ah!” the woman said, “I pray for them.”
“That’s not really necessary, thank you.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “I do it anyway,” she said, and she turned her head away from Sophie. Sophie rolled her eyes and stared straight ahead, hoping the old hag didn’t feel the need to say anything more.
The bus finally stopped. Sophie got up, and was about to walk off the bus, but the old lady grabbed her wrist. “You must visit him!” she said staring wildly at Sophie. “Uh…I am,” Sophie replied, confused and a little annoyed. “No,” the woman pointed out the window, “ Him.” She was pointing to the massive doors of Saint Ignatius Church.
Sophie looked at the woman, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” Sophie said and she pulled her hand away and got off the bus. Sophie ran across the street, away from St. Ignatius, and toward St. Mary’s hospital. She walked in through the automatic doors and up to the check-in counter.
“Can I help you?” the nurse behind the counter asked.
“Yes, I’m looking for my father, Ed Atherton. I believe he’s in room 402A,” Sophie explained.
The nurse typed something into her computer. “Your name, please?”
“Sophia Atherton.”
The nurse printed out a visitor’s band and handed it to Sophia.
“Go to the fourth floor. It’ll be the third door on your left.”
“Thank you,” Sophie said, and she walked toward the elevator. Her heart started pounding as she waited for the elevator. She was going to see her parents after five years. What would her mother think? Would her father forgive her? Would he even speak to her? Could she forgive him? Would he even be conscious enough to know she was there?
The elevator finally arrived and Sophie stepped inside. Another man got on with her. He was wearing a suit, and Sophie could also see he was very attractive. He was definitely one of those tall, dark, and handsome types. He smiled at her pleasantly, and smiled back, wishing she had more elegant clothing and a better haircut.
“Pretty nasty weather huh?” he asked.
“Yeah...” Sophie answered stupidly.
“So, are you visiting someone?” he asked.
“Yes, my father.”
“Oh, I hope everything is ok,” he said kindly.
“I’m not sure it is,” she answered.
“Hmmm,” the man said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you have the need for a priest…I know one in the hospital.”
Sophie stared at him. “Oh, ummm…yes, actually. He is Catholic. That might be nice.”
“What room?”
“402A.”
“Great, I’ll page him.”
“Ummm…thank you.”
The man smiled and got off on the third floor. Sophie frowned after he left. That was weird…she thought.
The elevator dinged on the fourth floor, but Sophie hesitated. I can’t ignore him, she thought, I have to at least see him before he dies. She stepped out, hands shaking and fluorescent lights shining in her eyes. Slowly, she walked down the hall.
The door to 402A was open, so she walked in. Sophie’s mother was sitting by the side of the bed, holding her father’s hand. His eyes were closed. There was a soft beeping coming from the monitor.
“Mom?” Sophie said hesitantly. “Sophie?” Sophie’s mother ran and embraced her. Sophie realized she was crying and pulled away. Her mother was crying too.
“Honey, we’ve missed you. Why didn’t you come back home?”
Sophie glanced at her sleeping father.
“He didn’t mean it…he tried to find you…He hardly even slept.”
Sophie nodded. Somehow she had known he would have let her come back. Pride and anger had kept her away. Sophie thought she could take care of herself. What did she have to show for it? Bruce? Yeah right…
Sophie moved over toward the hospital bed. “Dad?” she managed to croak. She took his hand. His eyes opened and he looked at her.
“Sophia…my little girl,” he said, tears in his eyes.
“Yes, Dad, it’s me…”
“Soph, I never meant…please…”
“Dad, it’s ok. It was my fault…all my fault.”
“No…no…I failed as your father. I made you run from the one place you should have felt safe.”
“Dad… please…”
“Sophia…forgive me. I can’t undo what I did, but I want you to come back…start over. Visit your mother…”
“I don’t know…Dad, things are…different.”
“Sophie, I know that I hurt you, and I caused you to stay…come back…for your mother’s sake.”
Sophie kissed her father’s hand and sobbed.
“I’ve ruined myself, Dad. I can’t—“
There was a knock, and the priest entered. “I’m Fr. O’Grady,” he said, “Someone paged me for this room.”
Sophie got up and left the room with her mother, while her Dad received Last Rites.
“Sophie, dear, come home,” her mother implored. Sophie just looked at her sadly. Sophie’s mother caressed her face. “Do not despair, my little daughter; there is always hope.” Sophie looked away.
Fr. O’Grady came out and told them they could go back in. The kindly priest took Sophie’s hand and squeezed it as she passed him. She turned to thank him, but he was already walking away, so she re-entered the room.
Sophie noticed her father looked more peaceful. She knelt on his right side while her mother moved to the left of the hospital bed. Sophie knew there wasn’t much time.
“Dad…I love you. And…I forgive you.” Sophie’s father stroked her face and several tears ran down his cheeks. Sophie’s mother leaned over and kissed her husband on the forehead. He sighed deeply and Sophie felt his hand go limp. Sophie looked up and saw her mother weeping. She knew what she had to do, but she was terrified.
Without a word, Sophie got up and left the hospital. She was barely aware that she was crossing the street. And that’s how she found herself standing outside the doors of St. Ignatius Church.
Why was she here? What was she doing? Was it the old woman? The man in the suit? Fr. O’Grady? Her father? Why couldn’t she just open the door instead of continuing to stand in the rain? Why couldn’t she just leave?
Suddenly, Sophie looked down. Sophie was startled to find a young boy smiling up at her. He looked strangely familiar…he had her eyes. The boy took her hand and led her through the doors. Before she knew what was happening, Sophie found herself in the sanctuary. Fr. O’Grady came out of one of the confessionals, and noticing her, approached her. “Welcome home, child,” he said. Sophie looked but the little boy was nowhere to be found. A single tear fell as she said with a smile, “Father, will you hear my confession?”
