Twenty-Two
I WAKE UP SATURDAY morning cautiously optimistic about the meeting between Nate and Gladys. If Nate is forthright and Gladys listens—and does not simply start yelling at the young man—then there’s a chance at repairing their relationship.
I still believe that at 8:59 a.m.
Then, Gladys arrives.
“Is the bastard here?” she says as she rolls into the Rectory.
“Nate’s in my office, waiting for us,” I say, my eyes narrowing. “Gladys, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you here?”
She glowers at me and says, “I want to hear what the son-of-a-b***h has to say for himself.”
“No cursing in the Rectory, Gladys,” Anna says as she walks out of the kitchen.
“Sorry, Anna.”
“Gladys,” I say firmly, “if that’s going to be your attitude—”
“My attitude! My attitude! Dad, don’t yo
