DAN ARRIVES A LITTLE after 9 p.m. and we retire to the little walled patio in the back of the Rectory to enjoy a couple of beers and cigars. Since we started this semi-weekly tradition, I always make sure to stock Dan’s favorite brand of beer, which just so happens to be Helen’s. The cigars happen to be the Archbishop’s favorite brand, which I keep on hand as much to impress my ordinary as for my own enjoyment. I smoke very rarely, but when I do, I prefer a good cigar to a cheap one.
“So how’s it going?” I ask, knowing full well I did not really ask Dan over to inquire about himself. But he’s been through a lot in the last couple of months, and I do like to check-in with him.
“Pretty well,” Dan sighs. “Andrew’s still teething, the twins are terrorizing the village, and Catherine is, well
