“WHAT?” HELEN SAYS WHEN she opens her door the next morning to my knocks. “Tom? What the hell?”
I hold up a cup carrier with four large coffees. “Two for you, two for me.”
“But, what are you doing here?”
“You usually come to the Rectory for breakfast, so I thought today I’d come to you.”
“But . . . but, you can’t come into my apartment alone, can you? I mean, someone might see us.”
“Oh, Helen,” I say with a leer. “I’m not about to let myself be alone in a beautiful woman’s apartment without a chaperone.”
“Who’s—”
Just then, Gladys rolls up. “Hi, Mom! I have your cinnamon roll!”
Helen chuckles. “OK, well now that we’ll be properly chaperoned, come in, darling.”
A few minutes later, we’re safely ensconced in Helen’s apartment. The last time I was here was a year ago, when she invite
