Callings

***This story is dedicated to my real 'Francis'.

My name is Dawn. I was born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana to a very strict, religious, Catholic family. My father (who was actually southern Baptist but brought us to mass anyway) was physically and emotionally abusive to me and my older brother after our mother died when I was six. We dealt with it in our own ways (private, quiet rebellion).

I grew up in poor to lower middle-class, all black neighborhoods and went to all or mostly black schools. I am the youngest of my mother's eight children.

I went to a very small black, Catholic school and at seven, became a student lector at the school's weekly masses. I would spend much of my free time with the nuns in their convent and just hang out with them and ask them questions about their lives.

By the time that I reached the age of Confirmation (13), I was committed to become a Sister of the Holy Family. I came to find out that year that the reason why I was taken under the sisters' wings is because my mother had requested it and had wanted me to become a nun since I was 5!

We had always had white priests at the church parishes that I attended. They were the only white people that I actually knew (besides my pediatrician). I grew to love and revere the priests who led our parishes and found them to be fun and complete individuals. I don't think that I ever saw them as priests, totally devoted to the Church. I saw them as very wise friends who were concerned with helping people and making people's lives more spiritual and meaningful.

By the time that I reached 17, I was too far gone into theater and music to care about becoming a nun anymore. I was already into white boys because the black boys just teased me, insulted me and called me 'white girl' because I spoke 'proper', whatever that means!

I still attended mass and confession weekly and was part of my new parish's Catholic Youth Organization. This new head priest welcomed my input a lot and even trusted me enough to spend time at the rectory with some other kids. I was actually a church youth leader and participating in Sunday masses for the parish.

You would think that my family would be proud of me but they considered it part of my 'weirdness'. I was teased by being 'the good girl' or the wannabe nun. There was no way for me to please these people. I felt very alone even though I had family all around me.

Then one Sunday, things changed. That was when I met Francis. One of the most beautiful men that I have met, inwardly and outwardly. He was an angel.

I first met him on the alter preparing for services. I was going to prepare my reader's seat on the alter and tease the altar boys when I saw him. I only saw his back first, as he was working the other side. When he saw me at my seat, he greeted me with a sweet, warm smile. He had such a light in him!

I knew that he was Italian immediately because of the great big Roman nose and slightly olive skin. He wasn't very tall at 5' 7". I could also tell that he worked out from his muscular arms. I was to find out later that he was 26, from Boston, a Scorpio and close to ordination. He would be with the parish until next June.

He came over to shake my hand and I saw his eyes- sapphire blue, large and warm. They were amazing! "My name is Francis Contadino. You can just call me Francis or Frankie, if you'd like." He introduced himself, " You must be Dawn. I have heard so many good things about you from Father Richards and the deacons."

I smiled big and returned his greeting, "Hi! Yeah, I'm Dawn Landrieu. It's good to see you. I hope that you can add some life into these services here."

He nodded his head slowly and said, "I'll see what I can do about that...yeah." Then he flashed that super smile again and I thought that I would just melt right there!

I had just turned 18 at the time. Stood 5'2 1/2", was 24 pounds overweight but it was distributed well, I had a small waist and as always put nicely together by my stepmother. I usually wore a uniform because of school but that kilt never went above my knees- even when I sat (Three fingers below the knees, please)!

I wore square, grey, wire frames and had straight black hair that hang past my shoulders. I removed the glasses as often as I could, especially around young men. Especially when I would see Francis the future priest.

I was very much a lady and was raised to be a proper New Orleans Creole girl (even with my caramel skin and not 'good' hair that I got from my 'Darkie' father. My mother was deep, French Creole and my stepmother, Spanish Creole, so I really had no choice in the matter). I was always a pretty girl but had self-esteem issues (No wonder). I hated my looks. I was a much more shy person then. Some people in my family reminded me constantly about how not-so-pretty they thought I was. I knew they were wrong but it hurt all the same.

Anyway, that was our first meeting. After that Sunday, Francis and I became fast friends. We would spend a lot of time on projects and I would bring baked goodies to the rectory. We would also go in a group to other churches, shopping, school supply buying, etc. We would have very deep and long discussions about religion, politics and food (with others around, of course). We were becoming good friends.

I knew that something else was there, too. It wasn't blatant but I just knew. Call it woman's intuition or what have you. I could tell by his generous compliments on my clothes, grades, perfume, etc. I knew by the way he avoided touching me at all costs besides shaking my hand and that was always a quick exercise, with a finger tracing my palm. I could also tell by the way he would defend me when I was being teased by the boys. He seemed to take it more personally than I did.

How I really could tell was by his excitement when he heard my steps coming to the rectory door. He would answer like a lonely pup waiting for his master. I never really had to ring the bell if he was there. If I made it to the door and had to ring, I knew that he wasn't home or at least not downstairs.

Now, I enjoyed "The Thornbirds", but I didn't know if I was ready to go through what Maggie went through to get her man, so I just tried very hard to ignore what was obviously happening between us.

That March, seven months after we'd met, Francis planned a nice 'Accepted into you first choice of college party' for me. He had invited my parish friends, some school friends of mine and my favorite cousins. We had it in the kitchen and outdoors since spring is always in New Orleans early. Father Richards said that it was a reward for all that I did for the parish...and besides we were supposed to have a meeting there anyway!

I also knew that he understood that my father was not happy to see me going out of state for school. He did not plan on even giving me the bus fare to go off to college! That's why Francis really wanted to do the party.

He'd outdone himself and seemed to take pride in watching me have a good time and be queen for a day. He had written me some innocent poems disguised as a card that I read later and saved. It was one of the best parties that I've ever had.

Then about a month later, after Easter, I went to the rectory to pick up some Tupperware and fliers for the parish fair. I wore my short (for me, it was), light yellow, jumper dress, a white baby-tee, white socks that covered my knees, and my clean, white Keds (remember them?).

Francis came to the door after hearing me give my familiar voice clearing cough. I was halfway to the door and he just stood there and waited with a big smile. He told me that Father Richards had gone to a family wedding in another town.

I figured that was why the meeting was cancelled and I also wanted to see him that day because I knew that he would be alone. I had planned this for weeks and figured that there will be no harm in trying to see him alone.

He stood at the door in black jeans, an old Boston College T-shirt, grey socks and black Birkenstocks. I said politely, "Oh, I didn't know that Francis! Well, since I'm here, could you let me have my Tupperware back? Oh, and how about getting some fliers for me to distribute?"

His smile melted and he could sense me not being honest. He asked me into the den and had me take a seat on the couch. He sat next to me and said, "Dawn, I know that you knew that there was no meeting today and you don't have to paste up those fliers, so why are you really here? Do you need some counseling. Father Richards isn't here but I can help you. I'm almost a priest!" He grinned.

I didn't know what to say. I turned and looked at him and stammered, "I guess that I do need counseling." I began with a lump in my throat, "There is a friend of mine whom I really think is special. Very, very special. I feel very close to him and he's my best friend! I think that...well...I think that he feels close to me, too but he can't, I think. I mean...he can't be...he can't...he can't feel anything for me because...because...he's... um...because he's...uh...um...he's..."

"...Going to become a priest?" He finished for me. I started crying on the spot. I felt so defeated and I wanted to crawl into a dark hole. He got me! So much for being a good girl. So much for trying to be slick.

Francis rubbed my back, trying to sooth me with his words. "It's alright, Dawn. You don't have to be embarrassed. These things happen sometimes..." He trailed off. I looked up at him, waiting for him to finish.

He continued, "It's really my fault that this is happening, you know. I think that I led you on. Not to be mean or anything. I just...See, Dawn, I really like you... and think that you are a very special young woman. Any guy who would get you to be his would be a really lucky man. You have to know that about yourself. You're beautiful! You're golden! If I wasn't called to be a priest..."

He halted and said to forget it but I wanted him to finish his thought.

Finally, he looked down to the floor and then into my eyes and said softly, "If I didn't feel that I was being called...I would be with you. I care about you. I've known you for over seven months and I feel that we've known each other for so much longer. I feel that we know each other so well. That's why you came and tried this today. You knew that I wouldn't mind. I'm a little ashamed to say this but it's hard for me to not think about you every day, Dawn! I wonder if you're alright. I wonder if you are safe- in that house with your father who beats you like you're his property! You deserve someone who can take you away from that and show you what real love is...what tenderness is. I wish...I wish I could be the one to do that. "

I couldn't believe my ears! He was admitting this to me! His honesty was overwhelming. We were quiet for a while.

I looked down and said to him, "You treat me like a real person, Francis. I'm so used to being treated like a freak or some social misfit. You like me for me and it's great that I can be myself with you. You are my best friend, Frankie. We have something pretty cool going on here."

I continued, "So...you should understand how and why it hurts me to see you become a priest. I wish that you wouldn't do it, Frankie!"

We both sat there for another one minute silence. I broke it, "Thank you for being honest about your feelings and telling me that you worry about me. You're so sweet and care about me so much, Francis!"

I added, "I do want to know, if you don't mind me asking, why do you like me? I told you why I like you so it's just fair..."

"...I like everything about you, Dawn!" He interrupted, "Your smile, your lovely face, your dimples, your caramel skin, your walk, your voice, your mind, the way you sing, your grades, the way that you take care of yourself and handle yourself, how happy you get around kids and how sweet you are with babies...everything."

I wanted to throw him down on that couch and give him the lay that he deserved but that was CRAZY thinking!

We sat there quietly for a few moments because I didn't know what to say to that! Francis looked at me for some response but I was too shocked and overcome with affection.

He finally spoke up, "Father won't be here until 11 tonight. It's only 10:30 in the morning. Now, I do have to assist with 6:30 p.m. communion service so we have until 5 or so. Would you mind staying for a while and keeping me company? I mean...can you?"

I was elated over the request! I answered, "Of course I can stay! I have free reign over what I do on the weekends after I do my chores. What do you want to do? Let me make you lunch?"

"That would be fantastic but let me cook for you, for a change! It's about time that you get to have authentic Italian food! I'm making fresh pasta for lunch!"

We had a fabulous late morning just talking and making fun of each other's twisted lives. By the time we finished our spaghetti Bolognase, garlic bread and shared a bowl of homemade spumoni, it was 1:30!

During that time, I came to find out that Francis had been with a good amount of women before he went into the Seminary and that he had a thing for black girls, especially!

He said the reason why he digs us so much is because black girls are taboo in the circles he grew up in. He would have black female friends and his mother would request for him not to bring them to the house. He's a Scorpio and taboo just means go for it' to those sexy folks. His mother had no idea that not allowing his black female friends in the house meant that he had to go to their house and if their parents weren't home and she was willing...

He never really went against his parents wishes but loving on the black girls was like a quiet rebellion that he thoroughly enjoyed. He admitted that he always loved the hips and round asses of black girls. The smell of a sweaty, dusky jewel in the heat of passion drove him wild!

He came from a wealthy, Italian Catholic family in Boston. He was an altar boy from age 8 until he finished St. Stanislaus High School for Boys. Early on, he was entertaining the idea of becoming a priest. His family loved the idea and had him take classical voice lessons.

The Contandino family wanted their son to reach cardinal one day and expected a lot from him. He entered Boston College at 17 to study vocal music. He wanted to become an opera singer and Juilliard had accepted him into their MFA program but his family refused, saying that he studied voice for the Church, not for the stage. He would never think of breaking their hearts, so he entered the seminary.

I told him how this enraged me. I said, "Why can't you live you life for yourself, Francis? Don't let them send you down a path that keeps you away from your true calling! I've heard you sing. You belong on stage at the Met!"

Francis responded, "It's fine for me, Dawn. Either way, I am doing what I want. I do feel that I am being called into the priesthood, I teach music to you kids and it fills me. I get to sing all of the time. I think that my current audience is even more appreciative than they would be if they heard me on stage at the Met! Do you understand?"

"I guess." I said, feeling defeated once again. "But you're not a priest now, right?" Oops! I wanted to put my foot in my mouth for that one.

"Yeah...but we both know this. Why do you ask that, Dawn?" He asked with suspicion.

I answered, "Well, I was just thinking that maybe we can hold hands and cuddle a little. That's not a sin. Right?" I was pushing him. Did I have room for both feet to go in my big mouth?!

He looked at me with a growing fire in his eyes and said, "Come on, Dawn? Please! If you want me then tell me. Don't beat around the bush! I told you how I feel and I mean that! You're right, I'm not a priest yet. What? Are you asking me if I want to be with you? If so, just ask me, Dawn. I'll be honest with you."

I had never seen him so rattled but I understood why this was making him so emotional. I wanted to hold him in my arms so he could feel better. I was still unsure about where this was going, so I didn't dare touch him.

Then he and his words cooled and he smiled and asked, "Tell me, Dawn. Has anyone ever made love to you before?"

I was floored! Absolutely floored! What was this guy asking me?! OOOOH, but it was really sexy the way he said it! I answered his question, "I guess, yeah. I mean, I'm not a virgin."

He shook his head while he walked slowly towards me, "No, no, no. I mean more than just sex. I care for you deeply, see. You're not a 'trick' to me. So I would be making love to you. I guess that's what I mean. I don't think that the guys that you've been with care about you like this and...."

He stopped just a foot away in front of me and asked, "Am I scaring you? Please let me know if I am taking this too far, please? Oh God! What am I doing?!"

He stood there in a little daze looking at the floor. I knew that the wheels were turning super fast in there. I had to bring him back to what was happening now.

I took his hand in mine and asked him to hold me. He looked up, came closer and stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I was feeling a little nervous because I knew what was to happen soon. I was to go to his room and have my fantasies come true. I was to have this lovely, male, Italian fox show me how he felt for me in the most intimate way. It just seemed like a strange and unplanned blessing.

I focused on his question. "No. You're not scaring me. I trust you too much for that. Are you feeling bad about this? I don't want any guilt to follow you after any of this."

He responded, "No. Not at all! I'm sorry that I lapsed like that before. I was just working things out in my head. I've been celibate this entire time in seminary. I've had so much control. But now...now, this feels so right...I don't understand! Come here, Angel." He held me in his strong, healing arms and rubbed my back with both hands. I felt so secure and safe in his arms. His hands started going lower.

He said, "You've grown into such a gorgeous sunflower, Dawn! Such a truly remarkable young woman. I've wanted to touch you like this for so long! I even fantasize about you. I try to stop, then I get a boner and..." We both laughed a little nervously and gazed into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, he pulled away and said, "We should go up to my room. Take all of your things. The deacon doing the Communion Service will come here later but he won't go past the foyer. My room is on the third floor. Let's go!"

He playfully pulled my hand and we ran upstairs with all my things in tow. I was bubbling with excitement and feeling very naughty! We got to the top floor and Francis opened his bedroom door.

It was simple. A Full sized bed with no headboard, a nightstand with a lamp, a chest of drawers and a cedar trunk. The crucifix was over his bed.

He said, "Oh! I'll take that off for now." He winked at me before he went to remove the wooden statuette of a twisted Jesus.

Before he put the crucifix into his nightstand's top drawer, he spoke to it, "When can we make celibacy in the priesthood optional?"

After I recovered from the laughing fit that we had, I went to the bathroom to take a shower. I removed all of my clothing and stepped into the french, footed bathtub. I was in for about three minutes before I saw the curtain being pulled. Francis stood there completely naked looking at my wet, slightly chubby, but curvy brown body. He smiled at what he saw and offered to help me finish washing.

He came in and held my hips and rubbed my ass slowly with his hands. This was to be our first kiss. He pulled me to him by the hips and held me. Then he pulled his head back, looked into my eyes and ran a finger over my lips.

Then he put his finger in my mouth and I sucked on it. He brushed my long black hair from my face with one hand and cupped my chin with the other. Then he leaned and touched his lips with mine. He kissed me like that two more times before he gently placed his tongue into my mouth. I opened mine to let him in and our tongues caressed each other, warmly.