Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

130 :: JOHN R. MABRY
Jeffers looked up and smiled to see Tom. “Not at all.
Please.” He motioned toward the empty place. Tom slid his
tray into place and pulled up to the table. Bishop Van Patton
cocked her head, intending to say something, but waiting to
swallow first. “Tom,” she finally managed, “I was so sorry
about what Hammet tried to pull yesterday.”
Jeffers bobbed his head in agreement. “That was low. I’m
sorry I wasn’t more forceful, but coming on the heels of the
gay clergy motion—I was a bit shell-shocked already.”
“Thanks, Andy, and thank you, Leslie. I quite understand.
It certainly took me by surprise.” Tom noted that the
Presiding Bishop had taken a seat at the next table, and
resolved to keep his voice down. “The thing is, I know my
boys,” he said in a near-whisper. Jeffers and Van Patton
leaned in conspiratorially. “I know what they’re capable of,
and I know what they’ve been up to. This whole thing just
smacks of another one of Hammet’s witch hunts.”
“The man certainly needs to have someone to hate,”
Jeffers agreed.
“More like, he has to make someone else out to be wrong
so that he can feel like he is right,” Van Patton interjected.
Tom remembered that she was a psychologist in her working
life, and that added weight to her observation.
“That’s just sad,” said Tom, remembering to pay attention
to the truly excellent lasagna.
Just then one of the sisters made her way across the cafeteria
and tapped Presiding Bishop Mellert on the shoulder.
Tom watched as he leaned back and spoke to her. A moment
later he was folding his napkin and making apologetic gestures.
He then followed the nun out of the hall.
“—what do you think?” Jeffers caught his eye. Tom realized
he had tuned out the conversation.
“I’m sorry. I’m a bit distracted today. What was that,
Andy?”