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Show 233 the smallest disturbance could touch them off, wake Philip up. "It's about time," said Molly when he finally kicked open the screen. Philip was careful not to.look at her. "Yeah," laughed Paul, "where'd you have to go for the orange juice, Florida?" "No, I'll bet Mexico for the tequila," giggled Tia. Heat rolled off the grill. Philip was suddenly at a party, his party. "Granada for the grenadine," he said. Jonathan, sitting beside Molly, threw back his head and howled. Who was this man? Philip instantly disliked him; noticed huge circles of dampness spreading from the man's armpits out over his white shirt. Philip handed out the drinks, and in so doing discovered he had forgotten to make one for himself. It didn't matter. He took the only empty lawn chair, on the other side of Molly. "Jonathan was a monk," she quickly told him, "in North Carolina." It was meant to be an introduction, but Philip only nodded, displeased as he was with feeling uncomfortable in his own front yard. "Of course he isn't one any longer," she added. "That must have been an . . . unusual experience," said Julia. "Yes," said Brother Jonathan, "though at the time I thought of it as a job like any other job, with the exception that God was my boss." "What's on the menu?" asked Paul. "He was kicked out for writing a book," said Molly. |
