Palm Sunday

Evangeline Witherstead pauses just outside St. Christopher's Catholic Church and turns her attention to the daffodils struggling their way out of the thick layer of mulch suffocating the flowers. Evangeline scowls. Frank Difazio always applies too much mulch to the church's flowerbeds. In fact, Frank does everything generously: Lavishly bowing at the children whenever they drop a quarter in the collection basket. Accidentally kicking over the kneeler behind him in the middle of the Consecration. Laughing too loudly at Father's jokes, occasionally even going so far as to append a loud clap when something really tickles his funny bone. Honestly, Evangeline thinks now. The man is a doofus.

"Aren't they beautiful, Evangeline?"

"I beg your pardon?" Evangeline turns to see Deidre Jacoby smiling inanely.

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