The priest’s words echoed throughout the cathedral. “The Lord be with you.”

Danny answered along with the congregation in one collective voice. “And also with you.”

The priest opened wide his arms. “The mass is ended. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord. Viva en el paz y amor de Dios. Tenga un dia bueno.” He smiled and winked to the people. “Have a good day.”

Danny smiled back and nodded to what the father had said. The organ struck up the ending song. Standing there in one of his more comfortable suits, he listened to the lively congregation belt out Spanish church music as the priest and alter servers made their way down the aisle. He waited until they passed before he stepped out from his pew.

Danny had been coming to St. Luke’s parish since before he made arrangements for Jordan and Jason to stay there. It was a simple church, nothing too fancy. But it had character. It reflected the ethnicity of the neighborhood. The masses were said in both English and Spanish, and as a result the monsignor, Fr. Jorge, had been rewarded with a loyal and diverse congregation from all parts of the Bronx.

Danny leaned down to genuflect at the cross as the song came to its finish. They were a community, and the holy men and women at St. Luke’s had worked hard to establish that.

As he rose to his feet, he saw Sr. Rachel glancing over at him from the choir. He gave her the ‘Danny Taylor special’, as his smile had been dubbed by Vivian, and she returned the favor, smiling back with a tiny wave.

He had started to walk over to her when a short, balding man jumped into his path.

“Danny,” he drew out in a heavy Spanish accent.

Grinning, Danny grasped the man’s out-stretched hand, and when he did, he was pulled into a warm embrace. Still looking to Rachel, he put up a finger to have her wait, and she chuckled at him from across the way.

The jovial priest was one Danny knew well. Though the man had a potbelly and wore thick glasses, you were not to be fooled by his outward appearance. He was as sharp and quick as he was amicable. He had kept the church and the orphanage alive through intelligent politics and good public relations. His parishioners loved him for it, and Danny was no exception.

“Que pasa, compadre?” the priest sang. “Siempre trabaja! We are always working. We never see each other.”

“Yo se, yo se,” Danny agreed. He grinned. “They like to keep me busy.”

“This is the first Sunday in three weeks! Que lastima!”

Danny easily fell victim to the priest’s addictive enthusiasm, making animated gestures along with him. “Trabajo siete dias a las semana.”

“¡Me mata!”

“Aw….Es el asesinato!” Danny shook a finger. “When I die a young age, we’ll know why.”

The priest held his head. “Ah, Dios Mio. No habla. Don’t even speak the words. We need your young mind here. You bring life to the community.”

Danny smirked back to him. “Flattery…” he said, shaking his head.

“Heh, heh.” Fr. Jorge leaned in to share a secret. “It gets me everywhere.”

Danny laughed back, mostly because it was true.

The priest gave him a lasting glance and strong pat on the back. “But I must be going, eh? Banquets, baptisms, children, weddings…” He waved a hand in front of his face. “My life is flashing before my eyes.”

“Don’t work too hard, father,” he warned him. “You’ll end up like me.”

“Que? What’s that mean?” he challenged. “Like you… Give me your youth for a day. I’ll make more use of it than you will in a year.”

At that, Danny donned a disbelieving face. “Que? Acerca de qué habla?? Yo salgo, yo-”

Fr. Jorge spoke right over his rant. “I tell you what. You and me, we take your pretty face. We go out, and we get you a nice pretty girl, eh? Get you married.”

Danny made a face and gestured for the priest to be on his way. “You leave the pretty girls to me. You have people to talk to.”

The priest rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. Siempre. Always.” He waved a hand behind him as he ambled away. “Buena suerte, amigo. Be good, huh? Don’t work too hard.”

“E tu, Padre,” Danny said, shaking his head as he too walked away. “E tu.”

When he looked up, his eyes searched for Sr. Rachel. However, there was only a void where she had once stood. His brow furrowing, he scanned the area, looking for her habit amongst the sea of churchgoers.

It was nowhere to be found.

He looked around the church for a few more moments, but then, realization dawned upon him. Danny blinked and made his way out of the chapel and into the backyard.

Rachel was where she always was. With her children.