Chapter 8

A few minutes before ten Sunday morning, we acknowledged the altar and slipped into a pew at The Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd. We both knelt with our private thoughts, but I settled back in the pew long before David did.

The service was very traditional, and I enjoyed it immensely. After the service, when we reached the head of the line to shake the hand of the priest in charge, David made a point of introducing me to Father Cullen, who greeted David by his first name.

In answer to Father Cullen’s invitation to return, perhaps regularly, I said, “I’m a communicant downtown at the Cathedral.”

“Good for you,” he said, “and by the look of David, it appears that you’ve been rather more than good for our boy here.”

Not knowing how to reply to that, I merely inclined my head and moved along. In the car, I said, “How much does Father Cullen know about you, David?”