Joe's Point of View

We held hands as we walked across the parking lot and up the steps to the front doors of The Holy Ascension Church. I shook hands with Father Gabriel as we entered. He didn't look surprised to see us. By now, the entire Burg was probably expecting us.

Our families were in their usual seats. My mother and Grandma Bella always sat near the front. Stephanie's family usually sat towards the back, probably to accommodate Frank's sleeping habits when he attended, which wasn't often. I was glad he was in his assigned seat today. Stephanie and I split the difference, slipping into an empty spot towards the center.

The seats filled up quickly and mass began promptly at 11:00. We began the usual sit-stand-sit-stand routine. I think if you watch any mass on fast forward, it will look like spectators doing the wave at a baseball game.

During one of the sitting periods, I noticed Stephanie watching Mary Lou's kids. Mary Lou was Stephanie's best friend from school. Mary Lou had married Lenny Stankovic. He was self-employed, working with his Dad and brothers as co-owner of Stankovic Plumbing and Heating. Lenny was an okay guy, but his mouth was always hanging open. Mouth breathers may not categorically rate low on IQ, but they give that impression. I just figured he was good in the sack and a good provider, so Mary Lou decided to have a pack of kids with him. She could have done worse.

Eddie and Shirley were sitting right behind them with their own brood. Something was going on. Eddie's boy and Mary Lou's boy were scooting around on the floor. From the look on Eddie's face, someone was in for it after the service. Ah, the joys of parenthood.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Steph.

"Bugs is here," she whispered back. I looked again, and this time, I noticed the fuzzy ears sticking out from Eddie's son's shirt. Bugs was their pet rabbit.

"Nice," I smiled.

Mary Lou was stuffing a decapitated Barbie into her purse and crossing herself apologetically.

"That could be us someday," I whispered back, just teasing. I expected an elbow to the gut, but it didn't happen.

"That could be us someday," she whispered, indicating Mr. Kleinschmidt and Mrs. Bestler. They were sitting across the aisle and two rows up from us. I had to do a double take.

We were standing again. Mr. Kleinschmidt and Mrs. Bestler stayed seated. It was too much for them, so they were excused from the calisthenics portion of the service.

"He's not Catholic," I whispered back.

"She is."

"Are they a couple?"

"I think so."

We got shooshed, so we returned to the reading.

I was rather shocked when Father Gabriel announced a guest from the Gideons. He briefly outlined the request to donate on behalf of Solomon Olmer, and explained that he was giving his blessing to this endeavor, but that it was a rare exception. The Gideons are a Protestant group. But in this case, we could agree that it was more important to make the historical account of Jesus' life available to the lost than to quibble over our differences, ensuring that the lost were doomed to eternal damnation.

I could hear Grandma Mazur behind us telling someone that Father Gabriel agreed when he realized the Gideons were distributing Bibles for $5, but the Catholic charities brochure in the lobby required $25. Of course, the Gideons weren't distributing Catholic Bibles, so it was a tough call.

The man from the Gideons was speaking, thanking us for having him, and offering us an opportunity to do God's work. He asked us to join him in a brief prayer for the endeavor. Stephanie had her hands clasped together. She was praying so hard, her knuckles were turning white. I tried to pray harder, on her behalf. As he said "amen", his cell phone rang. He apologized, taking the call, which had Father Gabriel looking rather annoyed, until the saw the look on the man's face. The man whispered to Father Gabriel, who looked like he was about to faint.

The man sat down, his hand over his heart, grinning like a fool.

"They got the money," I whispered to Stephanie.

She had her hand over he mouth, waiting to hear what Father Gabriel had to say.

"A sizable donation was made on behalf of Solomon Olmer this morning," he confirmed. Stephanie grabbed my hand, squeezing it with excitement. "Your donations are still appreciated. Every Bible has the potential to save a life when you give it to God for his work. Miracles do happen."

Cell phones could be heard vibrating randomly around the sanctuary. Gasps began to erupt and whispering started.

Father Gabriel cleared his throat. "It seems the cat is out of the bag." He looked to the man from the Gideons, who nodded. "The donation has been confirmed to be legitimate. The anonymous overseas transfer was made in the name of Solomon Olmer in the amount of ten-million dollars."

We prayed again, thanking God for his provision. I thought I heard Stephanie whisper, "So long, Solomon Olmer, and thanks for all the fish." But that didn't make any sense.

The sermon began, and I have to admit, I was zoned out. I was in church. I was married and in church...with my wife. I could see my mother and Grandma Bella. Frank and Carl were snoring softly a few rows back, sitting with Stephanie's mom and Grandma Mazur. I was looking around at so many familiar faces from the neighborhood and from school.

Then I looked up at the large crucifix behind the priest. Knowing, and actually believing, what had happened the day Jesus died on that cross made everything about it real to me. It had never been real before. Church had been a social activity. And I could see how I got that idea. But I could see the difference between my faith and my place in the community now. My perspective had changed so much this week. Everything looked exactly the same, but nothing felt the same. I was different. No, it wasn't the meds. I only took Advil that morning.

I glanced at Stephanie. She was staring at the crucifix too. I expected to see tears, or that old guilt creeping in on her, but she just seemed to be in her own quiet little world. I didn't want to disturb her, so I tried to pay attention to the service.

When it was over, Stephanie and I made our way over to Mr. Kleinschmidt and Mrs. Bestler.

"Well, look who's here," Mrs. Bestler said delighted, taking Stephanie's hand in her thin, wrinkled ones. "What a nice surprise to see you here."

"I was about to say the same thing," I said to Mr. Kleinschmidt.

"Edna's been to Temple with me a few times. I figured it was time I attended mass with her," he explained. "After all, we're getting married."

"What?" Stephanie said, beaming. "Really?"

"I have a thing for actresses," Mr. Kleinschmidt shrugged. "I can't help myself."

"Look at this!" Mrs. Bestler said, holding out her left hand. There was a stunner of a diamond set in a gold band.

"Holy cow!" Steph gushed.

"What's going on?" Grandma Mazur asked as she and Carl joined us.

"Sol and I are getting married," Mrs. Bestler told Grandma.

"Holy cow!" she said. "Look at that rock! You could put an eye out with that thing."

"I know! Sol is spoiling me."

"I think I'd like to get married again too," Grandma said. "I always wanted a big rock like that, but your grandpa was a cheapskate," she said to Stephanie.

I glanced over at Carl to see if he was going to faint or burst into song.

"Edna," Carl said, sinking down on one knee. "I've been waiting for just the right moment, but I can't wait any longer." He pulled a ring box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was an Edwardian style ring of white gold featuring a ruby surrounded by little pearls, each in a black setting. It looked authentic.

"Where did you get that?" Grandma gasped.

"Do you like it?" Carl asked, holding his breath.

"I always wanted a ring like that," Grandma gushed. "No one else has one like that. It's a stunner!"

"Will you? Will you marry me, Edna?" he begged.

"Yes," she said.

Carl jumped up and spun Grandma Mazur around while everyone watching applauded, especially Frank. I had never seen anyone so happy about someone else's wedding. I figured it hadn't dawned on him yet that he'd have to help pay for it.

"Look!" Grandma said, putting the ring on and showing it to Stephanie's mom.

"I'm so happy for you," she said, bursting into tears. "Oh, Mom!"

"That's great!" Stephanie said to Carl.

"Where did you score that ring?" Mr. Kleinschmidt asked while Grandma was out of earshot.

"From the guy that does my taxes," he said. "He sells estate jewelry on the side."

Stephanie and I exchanged knowing looks. It sounded a lot like Carl had his taxes done at the mall by Simon Diggery, the local grave robber and herpetologist. It was just a matter of time before the widower or a son or daughter recognized the deceased woman's wedding ring on Grandma Mazur's bony finger.

"You fellas want to come celebrate with me?" Frank asked. I knew he was referring to the stash of cigars he always kept in the glove box.

"We'll be back," I told Stephanie. She was sitting down with Mary Lou, who was trying to figure out what to do with a Kleenex full of bunny poo. She was debating over stuffing it in her purse or putting in the little trash can outside the sanctuary door. It didn't look like it was taken out very often. She didn't seem comfortable with either option.

"Here, I'll flush it," Stephanie said, holding out her hand for the toxic waste. That's my Cupcake.