“WAS MASS QUIETER THIS morning, or was it just me?”
I chuckle and say, “No, Helen, you’re right. Mass was quieter. Families are trying to get a vacation before the end of summer.”
“I can’t believe it’s August already,” Helen says with a smile. “One month closer.”
Taking her hand and squeezing it, I say, “Yes. One month closer. You still want to do this?”
“Of course,” she laughs. “Even if it means I have to stand here every Sunday for the rest of my life and say ‘Hi’ to people.”
“If I do, you do, darling. Unless you’re at a crime scene, of course.”
The smile dies on her lips. “Well,” she says, clearing her throat, “you’re not going to need to worry about that.”
I’m about to ask her what she means when Gladys rolls up, looking like Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, right down
