Cradle and All by M. J. Rodgers Page B

suppose if you took all the ritual out of a courtroom, the law would lose a lot of its tangibility. How long have Joe and Betty been together?”
    “Ten years,” Tom replied. “They met when they were both in their sixties. Joe’s wife had died of cancer. Betty’s husband had left her years earlier. They totally surprised themselves by falling in love just like a couple of teenagers.”
    Yes, Anne had seen that rare kind of love on their faces. It was a shame it was so rare.
    “Hungry?” Tom asked as they exited the hospital.
    “A little,” Anne admitted.
    “There’s a nice spot a few miles from here. We’ll stop there for lunch.”
    Anne thought Tom meant a restaurant, but the nice spot turned out to be a sunlit meadow, very private and secluded within a copse of trees. The air was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Tom spread out a blanket on the grass. When Anne and the baby were settled on it, he brought the picnic basket over and sat across from them.
    Reaching into the basket, Tom pulled out the last two chicken sandwiches, along with a thermos of hot chocolate. He handed Anne a sandwich and poured them each a cup of the chocolate.
    Anne didn’t know if it was because she had missed breakfast or because the fresh air was adding a special seasoning zest, but the sandwich tasted wonderful and so did the hot chocolate. She polished them off in record time.
    She stroked the sleeping baby in her arms, enjoying the feel of him, the sun on her skin. The sky was clear as glass. The trees all around them were full of songbirds, and a hawk circled lazily overhead. From deep within the trees came the sound of water rushing over rock.
    “Nature’s always been the best cathedral,” Tom said as he lay on his side watching her, his comment perfectly mirroring her thoughts.
    “Did you grow up in the country?” Anne asked, curious to know more about this very different man.
    “Far from it. I was born in Boston, brought up in New York City.”
    “Yes, I suppose that’s as far from it as it gets. Brothers? Sisters?”
    “Only child.”
    “Maureen said the vestry was at first concerned that you’d never been married. They thought it odd.”
    “Do you think it odd, Anne?”
    “You don’t get to ask the questions now,” Anne said. “It’s my turn. So, why haven’t you married?”
    He hesitated before he answered, and she could feel his eyes on her. “I’ve been waiting for my soul mate.”
    “I hear that term a lot these days. Never been clear about its definition. So, what’s the difference between a marriage mate and a soul mate?”
    “None, if you’ve selected right.”
    “You know what I mean,” Anne said, her eyes rising to his.
    “A person who is only a marriage mate will see the mistakes in what you do. But a soul mate will only see the love.”
    Anne wondered if there really were relationships in which each partner only saw the other’s love. “Sounds wonderful,” she admitted. “And totally unbelievable.”
    “Wonderful, unbelievable things are called miracles, Anne. And they happen all the time.”
    No, Anne didn’t believe in miracles. But a priest obviously had to. She also imagined he had to be extra careful to marry the right person. Was that why he wasn’t marrying the mother of his child? He didn’t believe she was his soul mate?
    “What made you decide to become a priest?” Anne asked after a moment.
    “It’s a long story and best left for another time.”
    “Why not now?”
    “Because as the lead in that story, I’m not always a sympathetic character,” Tom admitted. “I’d prefer you learn about some of my good points first.”
    “You have some good points?” she asked, not able to resist the opening.
    That got a grin out of him. “A few.”
    “Name one.”
    “Well, let’s see. I don’t rob banks.”
    “The former prosecutor in me is impressed. Anything else?”
    “I’m a good listener.”
    “So was my beagle...after I got him fixed.”
    Tom’s laugh was deep