Free Man Who Loved God by William X. Kienzle Page B

that once Adams came to terms with whatever had disturbed and distracted him last night, he would have attended to the visitor. Shown him the sights, given him some sense of the history of this place.
    Father Tully had not for a moment expected that the CEO himself would be his guide; some nonessential employee would, he knew, be assigned to conduct the tour.
    Nothing. Not a word.
    The most eventful, occurrence of this day had been trying to get Father Koesler off on his vacation excursion. The way things developed, it fully seemed that Koesler was going to cancel his trip.
    He even stayed to concelebrate the noon Mass with Father Tully.
    After Mass, Father Tully began carrying Father Koesler’s baggage and incidentals down to the car. Reluctantly, the pastor helped stow his things in the trunk and, at long last, left. As Father Koesler’s car cleared the parking lot, Father Tully and Mary O’Connor waved good-bye.
    It had taken Father Tully and Mary no time to hit it off. He had quickly perceived that Mary played the factotum role with grace and r diplomacy. If he got out of her way—which he fully intended to do—everything would run like a finely crafted timepiece.
    Mary liked Father Tully immediately. He was a priest, which started him off on the right foot. And his personality seemed much like Father Koesler’s. She very much prized Father Koesler.
    After peeling Father Koesler away from St. Joe’s rectory, Father Tully spent a relaxing afternoon getting acquainted with the buildings and the “feel” of St. Joe’s.
    Also, it was fun anticipating meeting his brother and sister-in-law—two entities whom, up until just days previously, he hadn’t known existed. By the time the late model Ford Escort pulled up to the curb, Father Tully was more than ready to meet his spanking new family.
    He was not surprised that the attractive woman driver was alone. Anne Marie, his sister-in-law, had phoned earlier to explain that his brother couldn’t get off work until at least five-thirty at the earliest. She would pick up the priest at that time and they would all meet at their home.
    As he reached to open the car door, she leaned across the passenger seat and smiled up at him. “Father Tully, I presume.”
    He thought his ears would crack from the width of his answering grin. “Mrs. Tully, I presume,” he replied as he entered the car.
    “That title seems so foreign to that last name,” Anne Marie said. “I still can’t imagine somebody named Tully being a priest. Father Tully,” she murmured with reverence and amazement.
    “If you feel uneasy about the title, how about me? The only Mrs. Tully I’ve ever known was my mother.”
    They both laughed as they began the short trip to the Tully condo.
    It would be a while before they became sufficiently comfortable to be in each other’s company in silence. For now, conversation seemed necessary. Besides, there was lots of ground to cover.
    “I don’t know everything you and Z—uh, your brother talked about on the phone the other day. But I thought we could clear up some ticklish areas before you two meet in person.”
    “Sounds good.” Father Tully was aware that each time the car stopped, for traffic or a streetlight, Anne Marie turned to study him. Undoubtedly she was searching for a resemblance to his brother. Her husband.
    “We’re taking a slightly roundabout route to give us a bit more time,” she said. “First off, your brother has been married and divorced. And in between that marriage and me, there was a significant other.”
    “I didn’t know.”
    “The marriage produced five children. They and their mother moved to Chicago when the divorce was final. The girlfriend and your brother parted amicably.”
    The priest nodded.
    “I’m telling you this specifically, Father, because it is important for you to know about your brother and me.”
    “You don’t have to—”
    “Yes, I do. It’s probably going to make you wonder. See, I’m Catholic.