“What for, Cynthia?”“Just a visit.”“They’re hearing confessions this afternoon,” she said. “You might want to take the sacrament.”�...OK.”Good. It’s her idea.“Is there something on your conscience?”“No. I’m just feeling devout.”“Feeling devout, huh?”So I would have to confess lying to my mom, too.Our church was built the year I was born. It’s supposed to feel like a Gothic cathedral, except without the buttresses. It’s shaped like a cross, with a high vault in the middle and stained-glass windows. We were very relaxed with each other, so the words flowed easily. We arrived at my house and sat on the couch. I got up and went to the kitchen to fix drinks.. while I was gone she noticed an ash tray with a couple of seeds. “Do you smoke?” she asked. “I don’t smoke cigarettes” I replied. “Have any grass on ya?” she asked, smiling. “Sure” I replied. “You want to smoke one?” “Oh yeah” she said with a big. More

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