“Not really, but at least then I felt guilty about feeling guilty, which isveryCatholic.” His laugh was infectious and Selena joined in.
They sat together in silence for a little while after that, but it didn’t feel awkward. Perhaps priests understood silence better than most people.
“We should be getting back,” said Father Aguirre finally. “Or I should be, at any rate.” He stood up, dusting off his trousers. “If you’re not familiar with the desert, I’d suggest going back soon. It’s easy to lose your way in the dark and accidentally run into a cholla.”
“Cholla?”
He pointed through the growing dusk to a plant that looked like an odd, misshapen lollipop, covered in a thick fuzz of spines. “Cholla. You’ll swear you haven’t come anywhere near it, and then you’ll have a ball of it attached to your leg, and you’ll be pulling bits out for hours. If Copper hasn’t run afoul of some yet, she probably will—most dogs have to learn that one the hard way.”
“Ohno,” said Selena. Copper had been left with Grandma Billy and was probably being alternately plied with treats and abused by the peacock.
“’Fraid so. Bring her down to the rectory if she does, I’ve got pliers and a lot of experience pulling out spines.” He smiled.
They parted ways at the road. He tipped a little wave to her, almost a salute, and then made his way back toward the town. He was a tall, dark figure on the pale-white road.
She walked up the steps to Jackrabbit Hole House.Protection. Hmm.
It was only a few minutes before there was a knock on the door. Selena opened it, and Copper strolled through, looking as pleased as a dog full of treats can look.
“Hey,” said Grandma, holding up a pitcher. “Figured you could use a drink. I made desert mojitos.”
“Desert mojitos?”
“You use sage instead of mint. We got lime and honey too.” She rattled the pitcher and ice clicked against the sides.
“What about the rum?”
“Best not inquire.”
“Right, then,” said Selena. She opened the back door and they settled down into rocking chairs. Copper stretched out between them. The sky was a blaze of orange and red, shading to violet at the top.
“Saw the grave, then,” said Grandma, pouring. “Everything shipshape?”
“It’s a good spot,” said Selena. She couldn’t help but think of her mother’s grave, a flat slab with angels stamped on it, in the middle of a flat field of hundreds of other slabs. She didn’t know if any part of your spirit hung around after you were buried, but if they did, at least Aunt Amelia would get to watch quail and lizards.
“She liked that place,” said Grandma. “We did a little ceremony up there for her and everything. Father Aguirre would have bent the rules and buried her in the churchyard if I’d leaned on him, but I figured she’d like it better up there.”
Selena nodded. “Mom’s in a church cemetery,” she said. “Never any question about that.”
“Ah, yeah. Amelia said her sister was a Holy Roller, but that was as far as she ever got.”
“Right,” said Selena with a sigh. “That’s my mom.” Did she want to talk about it? Maybe she did. These days, her past seemed less like a tragedy and more like an unpleasant chore to be got through as quickly as possible. Maybe it was time to get through the chore. “See, my mother was really into Jesus.”
Grandma Billy snorted.
“Likereally. And Jesus, um, agreed with all her opinions. So if you did what she wanted, you were Mama’s little angel, and if you didn’t, there was a demon in you. That went for everything. I don’t mean just big things.” Selena stared into her drink. “Like if I didn’t want her to use the curling iron on my hair before church, it was the devil talking. Or if I wanted to wear sneakers instead of saddle shoes. Jesus was not okay with that.”
“Didn’t figure Jesus went in for the small stuff,” said Grandma Billy. Merv the peacock yelled somewhere nearby, which made Copper lift her head briefly, then drop it back to her paws.
Selena slugged back more mojito. “Apparently he has a real hard-on for saddle shoes. I never figured it out.”
Grandma Billy cackled appreciatively.
“Anyway, I knew it was nuts. I mean, you couldn’tnotknow. It wasn’t like anybody else I knew believed that stuff. And Aunt Amelia—the couple times she visited—she was super nice, but she’d tell Mom, ‘Don’t pull that demon shit with me.’ I thought she wasso coolfor saying that.”
Grandma raised her glass in a toast to the absent Amelia.
“Once I went to college I didn’t go back much. Mom was okay with me going to a good Christian school out of state, and I didn’t apply to any local ones, just in case. I wanted to get as far away as I could. I didn’t go back much, and I sure wouldn’t bring any of my boyfriends home. I mean, I didn’t saynowhen she asked me to visit—that’d be demons—I’d just, um, get busy. With school, or myjob. She eventually decided that Satan must set my work schedule, if I couldn’t get the time off, but I told her I didn’t have the money to travel and she understood that.”
