Mary Lou Monahan insisted on working not only every Saturday but on Sunday too, at least until the collection was counted and placed in the night depository. Mary Lou was an answer to Father Pool’s unspoken prayer that God would send somebody to take finances and the budget off his back. It was ideal. Mary Lou’s duties at St. Raphael parish were well within her talent and training. She loved it. This Saturday, Mary Lou had just finished sharing a light lunch—which she had made—with her pastor. She had taught him to eat regularly. He had taught her to eat sparingly. Both were the better for it. He was no longer distressed with hunger pangs. She had lost weight. Which, in addition to a newly acquired sunny disposition, made her more vivacious and attractive. Father Pool had gone to make sick calls. Mary Lou was typing announcements to be made at Masses later this afternoon and tomorrow. Normally when the front doorbell rang, she knew who would be answering it. Pool always insisted on going to the door.
