After reading half an hour worth of scripture—I was wondering if they were going to read the whole Bible—the archbishop preached. It sure seemed like the word ‘obedience’ kept cropping up a lot. There was a profession of faith that I sort of recognized from when I went to church. There was music and then the Father Provincial and Father Michel approached the altar and asked one of the stone masons to come forward. He approached in his work clothes. He and his two assistants knelt beside the altar and cemented in a cornerstone that contained a time capsule. All the priests and bishops blessed the altar and started putting cloths, candles, bowls, and such on it. There was a prayer and some singing that went with every item that went on the altar.A long line of people formed for communion. Of course, the Jesuits and nuns went followed by about half the congregation. The only one I knew who went forward was Whitney. Apparently, people knew what they were doing. Kate and I just sat. I had arrived late the night before, even later than usual. Her car wasn't in the drive when I arrived, but then, with traffic, weather, and the uncertainty about when I can leave the jobsite, the timing of my weekend commute is hard to predict. She pulled in as I was gathering the second load of luggage to carry into the house, and waved a pizza carton at me. Three microwaved slices and two glasses of wine later, we crashed into bed, without the usual "welcome home" lovemaking.Stray strands of her hair tickled my cheek. My fingertips smoothed it over her temple. There were small flecks of something in her hair, tiny clumps and knots. I began to comb it with my fingertips, straightening and untangling, and remembering.She wears her hair short now, tinted silver gray. When I first noticed her, in the dorm cafeteria, it was chestnut brown, parted in the center with loose braids over her shoulders. She wore it that way only the one day, but that is my first memory of her. I loved her.
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