Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/309

 "Is it wrong for me to love Bob? Please tell me. I'm sorry for what I did to Joy … deeply sorry … forgive me and don't let her hate me … Our Father who art in heaven …"

As he sat there praying, he was perked out of his daze by a sour, stale reck of alcohol. It can't be him, he thought … it can't be that drunk who thought I was a girl. Still it could. And he breathed heavily as the hangover breath assailed his nostrils. He sat there praying it wasn't, dying to turn around and see for himself but he was afraid to. He knelt again when church was over and as he did he glanced at the man behind him who was leaving. It wasn't him and he let out a deep sigh. He wasn't in a hurry to leave … every one else seemed to be for the aisle was crowded. He knelt there and said another prayer.

The church was almost empty when he did leave.

On the front steps a loud buzzing of mixed voices greeted him as he stepped through the door. He shaded his eyes and looked over them for a quick moment. He wished he didn't have to walk past so many people. He wished he was in his car and on his way home.

A middle aged woman came up to him … smiled and spoke, "Hello, Gaylord. How nice to see you in church."

"Good morning, Mrs. James," he smiled back at her.

He walked down the steps and spoke to several more he knew among the chattering throng and then, blinking in the sunshine, he stopped because standing right in front of him stood Glenn Rogers. His face all smiles … "Hi, Gay," Rogers said cheerfully and the dimples deepened. "I didn't know you were Catholic."

"Hi, Glenn … yes … I'm one but, I don't go to church as often as I should. Don't guess you'd call me a very good Catholic."

Rogers grinned, said, "My mother makes me."

"Mine doesn't … maybe it would be a good thing if she did."

"Don't hurt you, I guess. But some Sundays I'd rather do other things." Rogers rubbed his eyes. "This sun sure is bright, isn't it."

"Sure is."

"I'll be glad to get rid of this coat."

Gaylord looked at the heavy fabric. How could he stand it, why even with his thin tropical gabardine he wore it was warm. Rogers must be roasting … "Mine's hot too," he agreed. 299