Nine
IN SPITE OF ALL THAT’S going on, I wake on Sunday morning with some sense of hope. True, nothing has really changed, but God is on his throne and, while all is certainly not right with the world, I have a positive sense that it might yet be.
I walk into the Sacristy to get ready for 8 a.m. Mass and am pleased to find Dominic there already vested. “How were things after I left?” I ask as I begin to pull my vestments on.
“Well,” he says with a wrinkled brow, “better, especially once the pizza got there. We all sat around and talked about everything, which was kinda awkward because Gladys was there.” He pauses. “Father, I know you can’t tell me anything you learned in confession, but am I right that Gladys has had some . . . bad experiences with men in the past?”
I grimace and nod.
