The Cardinal and the Crook

But you better get into the house now. Your father has been anxiously waiting for you.”

John noticed that Father Jason had a playful grin on his face.

When John entered the room, he saw that there was an attractive middle-aged woman sitting on the sofa, speaking with Father Pat.

“Hello, Father Pat. How’s my favorite father doing today?” John gave him a warm hug and planted a kiss on his bald head.

“Johnny, my boy, it’s so good to see you. We’ve been waiting for you.”

John turned to the woman, smiled, and held out his hand. “Hello, I’m John Donnelly.”

As she took his hand, he noticed that the radiance of her smile appeared to make her olive complexion glow. He immediately felt a strange sensation—as if he should know this person—and wondered, Who is this lovely lady? She’s smiling as if captivated by me and holding on to my hand like she doesn’t want to let go.

Father Pat, who was beaming, slowly got up from the sofa and placed his hand on John’s shoulder. “I’d like you to meet Veronica.”

The woman stood up. John watched his father, who was between them, stare at the painting hanging on the living room wall for several seconds. It was the depiction of the crucifixion when Jesus looked down at his blessed mother and the apostle whom he loved. The young priest was astonished by what his father said next.

“Woman, behold your son . . . Son, behold, your mother.”

Then Father Pat walked out of the room and left the two of them alone.

“What . . .” John looked back at her, eyes wide. “What is Father Pat talking about?”

Veronica tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. “You’ve got the same deep-blue eyes as your father . . . You look exactly like him.”

John was stunned. “What? Who are you?”