Pie Town - Lynne Hinton [41]
Roger shook his head. “We’ll just call it even, with the cake and all.”
Malene nodded.
There was a pause.
“The new priest seemed to have a good time.”
Roger laughed a bit. “I don’t think he ever understood which punch was for the children and which punch . . .”
“. . . my father got hold of,” Malene interrupted. “When did Oris buy liquor?” she asked. “And how did he get it in the punch bowl with no one seeing him?”
Roger shook his head. “I didn’t know what was going on until I noticed Ms. Millie going back for her third or fourth cup.” He thought for a minute. “Have you ever known her to dance with your father?”
“Not like that,” Malene answered. “For a second there I even thought she was going for a stripper’s pole.”
Roger slid his hand down the back of his head and across the back of his neck. “Now that’s something I do not care to witness,” he noted.
Malene laughed. “You seemed pretty happy yourself. How many cups of punch did you drink?”
Roger shook his head. “A few more than I needed,” he replied. “But not as many as Father George.”
“Yeah, I figure he’ll have a bit of a headache come morning,” she said. “Maybe you should drive up there and check on him, make sure he can make it to his early Mass in Omega.”
“You’re asking me to babysit the new priest?” he asked.
Malene shrugged. “He seems so young and nervous. And he tries too hard. And he’s probably never had more than wine at communion in his whole life. You checking on him is just the neighborly thing to do. After all, it was our party.” She paused. “You think he was able to drive back to the parish house okay?”
Roger scratched his head. “Well, since all the deputies were here, at least he wasn’t in danger of being pulled over for a DUI.” He placed his hands on the table and rubbed his fingers together. His thoughts went to smoking a cigarette. “And I haven’t gotten a call about a priest in a ditch, so I’m sure he’s fine.” He looked at Malene. “What about you? Did you have a little punch?” He winked. He could tell his ex-wife had imbibed. She seemed to have loosened up a bit as the party went on, and he had enjoyed watching her in her relaxed state.
She waved off the question. “Maybe a couple of glasses,” she replied. “But that was hours ago. Now I’m just tired.” She rested her chin in her hand. “You thinking about a smoke?” she asked.
Roger leaned back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’d be a great time for one right about now.”
Malene nodded. “You’ve done good this time,” she commented.
“Almost a month,” he noted. “And it’s just as hard as it was the first day.”
They both laughed. There was a pause in the conversation.
“Full moon,” Roger finally said. He peeked out of the shelter and looked up at the sky. “I can’t remember the last time we sat alone outside under a full moon.” He sat back up and smiled.
“You used to sing to me under the full moon,” Malene remembered. “What was that song you used to sing, something about a freckle beside my lips?”
“Ese lunar que tienes cielito lindo junta tu boca. No se lo des a nadie cielito lindo, que a mi me toca,” he sang.
“You know I fell in love with you because of your singing,” Malene said.
“You fell in love with me because I was the only boy you could beat in a footrace,” Roger responded.
Malene laughed. “You never were very fast.”
“That’s not what you were saying by the time we were in high school.” Roger smiled.
Malene shook her head. “Ah, to be young again,” she said, dropping her head on her arm to rest.
“Ay! Ay! Ayay! Canta y no llores, porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los corazones.” Roger sang another line from their song while Malene closed her eyes and smiled.
It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.
Chapter Fifteen
Father George was drunk. He had managed to drive himself back to the parish house without incident, although he had gone a few miles before he realized he had turned on the windshield wipers and not the lights. He handled the dirt road up to the parish and was able to park the car in the