say Dave did not enjoy Mass the next morning. Although he only had one drink at The Devil’s Eye he awoke bleary-eyed and with a slight headache, which only seemed to get progressively worse as the bright morning light shot through the stained glass windows of the packed church, blinding him with furious righteousness. The smell of flowers was also getting to him—the place was so stuffy, so stagnant, he could feel himself nodding off once or twice. But each time, Dave was jolted back into reality by a sharp pinch in his thigh and a withering look of disappointment from his mother.
June lectured him throughout breakfast and the entire ride back to their house.
“Davey, if you aren’t feeling well you really shouldn’t have come to church. Mommy wouldn’t have been mad at you,” she cooed before her voice became brisk and emotional. “But falling asleep while the Lord is watching, such blatant disrespect. Can you imagine what our brothers and sisters must all think of us?”
Dave wanted to say he really didn’t care one hoot what anyone thought of him, but he knew it would only incite further recrimination. His head was pounding by the time he said goodbye to them.
He sent a quick text and then pulled out of the driveway, heading west towards the less affluent side of town.