The First Wife

It was so cold for early October, the kind of chill that seeps through bones and spirits and lingers in the air. Autumn in New York could be very mild and pleasant, but not this year. Nothing this year had gone the way he had planned; neither his risky investments on margin nor his second marriage to one of Beth's former friends. He closed the heavy door quickly and entered the warm sanctuary flanked by candles and dark, wooden pews. As he made his way to the golden altar bedecked with flowers, he knelt and crossed himself. As he rose, a soft clicking sound made him turn around, and he saw an old woman approaching the pew nearest the door. She wore a heavy knitted shawl and her silvery hair was tied back in a bun. She was quickly lost in prayer and oblivious to his presence, grasping a rosary in one hand. James thought that he might have seen her before. He couldn't remember when; it didn't matter.

He headed towards the night confession booth in the small room off to the side of the golden altar, passing the wall niches holding the statues of so many saintly figures. Their eyes followed him as he moved, and he felt grateful to be closing them out as he stepped inside the booth and sat on the bench. It was a bit small for his large frame and he was uncomfortable, but it would have to do. He drew the black curtain that closed off the booth symbolically from outside eyes, and cleared his throat. He knew of no other church in the area that maintained a night confessional from midnight until 2 AM. It was also convenient, being so close to his office where he often spent his evenings. He could never get the courage to confess during the day. Something about its cold light made him feel naked and vulnerable with no place to hide. He cleared his throat again, a bit louder this time, taking a moment or two to organize his thoughts, which were often jumbled things, tumbling and defensive. His need to confess was overwhelming and all consuming; an amazing condition for a man who had previously never had much conscience and even less soul.