Max

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jude

Sacred Heart Cathedral’s doors opened. A few men and women scurried out, some crossing themselves as they exited. It was Thursday afternoon, and these were the hardcore believers who went to mass several times a week.

“I miss it.” I sighed, then glanced away when a VCU student caught a frisbee in front of where I was seated in Monroe Park. It was lunchtime, and every bench was occupied, professors and students enjoying a brilliant fall afternoon.

“Would you mind sharing your bench?”

I glanced up to see a tall, regal woman with red hair in a ponytail wearing a black turtleneck sweater and purple slacks. She smiled down at me, and for a moment I was blinded by the brilliance of her teeth.

“Oh, yes, of course.” I moved my backpack, so she could sit.

“Sorry, but all the benches are taken. Plus, I love staring at the cathedral. It’s one of the prettiest buildings in Richmond.” She opened a paper bag, pulled out a sandwich, then opened a bottle of what appeared to be lemonade.

“It’s amazing what the church spends its money on, don’t you think?” The woman said, then took a bite of her sandwich.

“What do you mean?”

She blotted her lips with a paper napkin. “The Catholic church is very wealthy. Instead of these gorgeous cathedrals, wouldn’t it be better to spend the money on feeding the hungry, or nursing the sick?”

“Well, they do that too.” I mumbled, wondering why I was defending the church. I pulled a newspaper out of my backpack and opened it to the classifieds. For the last month I’d been staying in an Airbnb while looking for an inexpensive apartment.

“I know they do.” She sighed. “But they are the most influential religious body in the world, and all I see is wealthy priests abusing their positions.”

I snorted, then turned the pages of the paper until I found the apartments for rent section. While I totally agreed with her, I didn’t want to pursue this conversation. It hit too close to home.

“Are you looking at the classified ads?”

I turned to her and nodded, then was struck by how vivid her green eyes were. As green as grass, and I couldn’t detect any makeup. She appeared to be about forty-five.

“I own an apartment building on Monument Avenue, and I never think to run ads in the classifieds.” She fished her phone out of her purse. “Okay, Google,” she spoke into the phone. “Remind me tomorrow morning to place an ad in the Times-Dispatch to rent out the upstairs apartment.”

“Monument Avenue, huh? It must be an expensive place.” I sighed.

“Actually, no. It’s a tiny apartment on the third floor. My nephew Tanner is moving out of it, and I need to find a suitable tenant. Are you in the market? You know, looking for a place to live?”

I nodded.

“Well, let me introduce myself.” The woman held out her hand, and I shook it. “My name is Elizabeth Beckwith, but my friends all call me Dottie.”

“Nice to meet you. My name is Jude Cramer.”

The woman fished a card out of her purse and handed it to me. It was for a ballet school, the Heritage School of Dance. “The school is in the basement of the building, but the rest of it is apartments. That’s my cell phone number. Would you like to come see it? The rest of my afternoon is free.”

I nodded. Something about this beautiful woman’s poise was comforting, almost motherly. “I’d love to.”

“I wish I could install an elevator, but the historical society, which I refer to as the hysterical society, won’t allow it.” Dottie breathed as we reached the top floor.

The building was stunning. It was at the corner of Robinson Street and Monument Avenue, made from tan bricks with huge columns holding two large balconies, one each on the second and third floors. She kept saying the rent was reasonable, but I couldn’t believe it would be. There were only three apartments on each floor, so they all had to be huge.

“So what type of work do you do, Jude?” Dottie pulled a set of keys from her purse, then knocked on the door at the rear of the hall. “I need to make sure my nephew isn’t here.” She explained with a smile.

“I teach biology at Open High School, in Oregon Hill. I only started a month ago, but I’ve already fallen in love with it.”

“Oh, that is a wonderful school. More public schools should be conducted like that one.” After no one answered the door, she turned the key, opened the door and gestured for me to go inside.

“It’s not much.” Dottie said, and I was surprised at how tiny it was. Oddly enough, though, I preferred compact spaces. They made me feel more secure, somehow. “This is the smallest unit, and until recently I mostly used it for storage. But several of my children have called it home over the years.”

“Oh, you have kids?” That would explain the maternal vibe I felt around her.

“Oh, no, none of my own.” She laughed. “Sorry, but I’m very close with my tenants, and like to refer to them as my children.”

As I walked through the apartment I instantly felt at home. Her nephew must be a musician, since there was a guitar resting in a corner and a keyboard of some sort was on the coffee table.

“The furniture comes with the place. I know it’s not much, but if you don’t like it I can place it in storage.” Dottie laid a hand on my shoulder and I flinched. She lowered her eyes and a demure smile spread across her face.

“I know this might sound a little bit woo woo, but I’ve come to think of this apartment as a healing space. Every tenant who’s ever lived here has used it as a place to regroup, to get their head together, so to speak.” Her voice softened, and it was almost hypnotic. “While your business is your own, I have a feeling you would fit in here.”

“I’ll take it.”

A huge smile split her face, and without warning she opened her arms and hugged me. I wasn’t used to being touched, and it took me a moment before I realized I should hug her in return. Afterward, I backed out of her arms and felt pressure behind my eyes, almost like I was about to shed tears.

I swallowed, shook my head, then spoke, “Um, I know this might sound strange, but I’ve never rented an apartment before, so I don’t really know what you need to…”

“Really? Let’s go downstairs to my apartment and you can sign the lease there.” She gestured toward the door and I walked through it back into the hallway. “How old are you, Jude?”

I blushed. “Thirty-four.”

“What did you do, you know, before becoming a biology teacher?”

I glanced down at the floor, suddenly shy. There was no reason for me to be ashamed, but I hesitated for a moment. Dottie turned toward the door.

“You don’t have to say a word, dear. It’s your business, and…”

“I was a catholic priest.” I mumbled. “I left the church two months ago.”

Dottie froze for a moment, then she spun around and winked.

“Welcome home, Jude.”