She squinted, glimpsing me through the windshield. ‘Maggie!’ she cried. ‘You didn’t tell us you were bringing a friend for dinner.’ Just the way she said the word friend made me feel a rush of sympathy for Maggie. ‘Joel!’ she called into the house behind her. ‘Maggie’s brought a guest!’ I stepped out of the car and adjusted my collar. ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘I’m Father Michael.’ Maggie’s mother’s hand went to her throat. ‘Oh, God.’ ‘Close,’ I replied, ‘but no cigar.’
