Pie Town by Lynne Hinton Page B

his throat. The direction of the conversation seemed to trouble him.
    Appearing to notice Roger’s discomfort, Father George spoke up. “Can you tell me, Sheriff Benavidez, how far the Holy Family Church and the parish house are from here?” he asked. “If my directions are right, I shouldn’t be too far away, right?”
    Roger turned back to the priest, glad for the question. “Right. It’s not far at all, just a few miles up Highway 60 and east on Clive’s Road. Would you like me to escort you over there?” he asked. “Is Father Joseph waiting on you?”
    “I believe that he is,” Father George answered. Then he glanced over at Trina and then back to Roger. “But I think that if you can help my passenger here find suitable housing,” he nodded over to Trina, “I can locate my new residence.”
    “Father George was kind enough to give me a ride when I was hitchhiking,” Trina explained. And then she whispered to Alex, loud enough for the men to hear. “I think I must remind him of an old girlfriend. I think I make him nervous.” She winked, and Father George’s face reddened.
    “You can walk to Granddad’s from here,” Alex said, grinning. “If you want, when it stops raining, I’ll go with you.” He thought for a second about his offer. “Only I can’t go up to the apartment with you because of the stairs,” he added, looking a bit disappointed.
    Trina considered his words. “Well, I bet that if the sheriff comes along with us, we could sling you over his shoulder and get you up those stairs. Maybe instead of giving me a loan, you can help me clean.”
    Roger glanced down at his grandson. “I think we can find a way to get him up there,” he said. He picked up the check from the table. “Let me take care of your meal.”
    Father George immediately responded. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t expect any special treatment.”
    “It’s not special treatment unless you get dessert, and based upon the reviews I’ve heard, you don’t want to go there, so let’s just call it a ‘welcome to your new home’ lunch.”
    Father George nodded. “What? No pie?” he asked innocently.
    Roger turned to the kitchen and yelled out to Fred. “Father George wants to know if there’s pie.”
    Fred stood at the window. “Brownies,” he yelled back.
    “Only pie you can get is down the road in Quemado. But it’s worth the drive,” Roger explained.
    Father George appeared to make a mental note. “No pie in Pie Town,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind. Although that does seem a bit odd. Maybe that will change.” He smiled. “Anything else I should know about the area?”
    “We’re just small-town folks, not too fancy with our thoughts and not too progressive with our religion,” Roger answered.
    “And the best party all year happens to be this weekend,” Alex added.
    “Oh, and what kind of party is that?” the priest asked.
    “My birthday, and even though there’s no pie, I can promise you there will be cake.” Alex grinned. “And you’re invited.”
    Father George smiled. “Well, with such a lovely personal invitation like that, how could I say no?”
    “Great,” Alex responded. “It’s always a lot of fun.” He studied the priest. “Can you play softball?” he asked.
    The priest shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m not the athletic type, Alex,” he replied.
    “That’s all right. You can just watch.”
    Father George nodded.
    Roger cleared his throat. “Well, with the storm and all, I’ll drive you over to the house, Trina,” he said, “if you’re ready to go.”
    Trina took a swallow from her iced tea. She put down her glass, and suddenly something seemed to be wrong with her. She reached for her napkin and held it to her lips as if she might become sick.
    “You okay?” Alex asked.
    She nodded and placed the napkin in her lap. “Just not used to the chile, I think.” She cleared her throat. “Okay then, Father, you are now officially free of me!” She