She's okay.
“What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
“What? Oh my gosh, no. I’m okay,” she says, and now she sounds breathless.
I sag against the wall, closing my eyes tight.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”
“You definitely should have, and I’m so glad you’re okay. But why was your message marked urgent?”
A pause.
Then she sucks in a breath, like she’s trying for courage she doesn’t necessarily feel.
And now I’m really curious.
“Um, okay. Well, I probably shouldn't have used that word.”
I laugh despite myself.
“Firecracker.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologize.”
Another pause.
Then she groans.
And that sound?
Holy. Sex.
Now, I'm curious and turned on.
“Mary, talk to me.”
“Father Peter started a rumor.”
I blink.
“What kind of rumor?”
There's a pause.
Then she sighs dramatically.
“Well… he kind of, sort of, maybe announced to the entire staff that we're possibly engaged to be married.”
I stop breathing.
“What?”
“And before you ask, no, I didn't say anything!”
“Wait.”