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“Cool!”That evening, at home, Kara and I made love, slowly, and gently, then showered and put on our pajamas before Michelle joined us in bed.November 21, 1993, Chicago, Illinois“Will you come to church with me this morning?” Michelle asked.“I suppose so,” I said. “Did you check with Kara?”“Yes. She’s interested in going as well. Jesse will ride with his friend Vasily as he usually does.”“Not to be indelicate, but have you gone to confession?”Michelle smiled, “My relationship with my confessor is my business, isn’t it?”“It is, but given our relationship...”“Let me worry about that, please. I have to reconcile everything, just as Kara did. We chose diverging paths.”“OK. I’ll keep my mouth shut on the topic unless you raise it.”“Steve, I’m very happy and very peaceful. Let me worry about my relationship with God. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re doing nothing wrong.”I nodded and she went to let Kara know that I’d agreed. Fifteen minutes later, we were in my car, though I was sitting. Neither rain, nor sleet, nor fog of brain stayed this boozer from his appointed rounds — and when he was drinking, he never missed a round at ‘O’Brian’s Pub’. ‘Thanks for dropping it off, Tim.’ ‘Seeya later.’ ‘Have a good night.’ Sam didn’t feel the door when he closed it. He didn’t see the porch light go out when he turned off the switch, or hear Tim’s BMW roar away. His physical senses were numbed by the handwriting on the package. It was Jan’s. ‘DAD, I’M READY!’ The shout from upstairs startled him back from the shock. ‘I’ll be right there,” he said, setting down the parcel and stumbling up the stairs. While Chris lay half-asleep, another chapter of the Hadley Boys ‘Mystery of Sunset Mountain’ was absently read aloud. After prayers and kisses, Sam went back to the den, where his own mystery waited. In a rare moment of weakness, Sam unlocked his desk drawer and extracted the bottle of Scotch — a present from a client. Pouring three fingers, he downed it like a shot and enjoyed.
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