If the waitress comes, would you order me a root beer, please?” Rebecca kissed Chris’s cheek, and he and Father John took their seats as she headed for the rest rooms. They had told Father John after Mass about Rebecca’s decision to convert, and he had insisted on taking them out to lunch to celebrate. “You two aren’t going to be so sickeningly sweet that I’m going to need a root canal?” Chris grinned. “Maybe. We’re pretty stinkin’ happy.” Father John smiled, too. “Good. So, how was your date last night?” “Excellent. I served Rebecca dinner at my parents’ house, and then we sat on a blanket in the backyard for some stargazing.” “So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.” Father John grabbed the menus from where they were leaning behind the ketchup bottle and handed Chris two. “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Hey, can I ask you something quick before Rebecca gets back?” “Shoot.” Rebecca was nowhere in sight, but Chris lowered his voice anyway.
