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“Tanya should finish college,” Milo said with a frown.

“It's Mulehide who's pushing here. I think Tanya and this guy would like to live together for a while, but my ex won't have it. I know it's supposed to be wrong, but it makes sense these days. Find out what a person's really like. See if it's just sex. Get some of those dumb little problems out of the way before you make a commitment. Hell, if Mulehide and I'd done that, maybe we'd never have gotten married.”

Ordinarily, I would have probed further into Milo's musings. Was he sorry he'd taken Tricia to wife? Did he regret the divorce? Was he hinting that the two of us should live together? But for once, I had no interest in male-female relationships. I rolled over on my side and stared at the sliding doors of my closet.

“Hey—what's wrong?” Milo poked me in the small of the back. “You don't agree? What if Adam showed up with some girl he hardly knew except on-line and announced he was getting married? Wouldn't you pitch a fit?”

I shook my head, but didn't—couldn't—speak. Milo tickled me in the ribs. “Adam has too many girls? Is that it? Are you afraid he'll never settle down and produce some grandkids?”

I burst into tears. In recent years Adam had become acquainted with his father, Tom. But it was Ben who owned him. Ben had been there at his birth, Ben had inspired him, Ben had wrapped him in a mantel of goodness that I could never understand, let alone imitate. Ben had held him captive down on the reservation, a willing hostage.

“No girls, no grandchildren,” I blubbered. “No immortality for Emma Lord.” I caught myself, then turned just enough to look at Milo. “Not the kind you're thinking of. Not the kind I planned.” I swallowed hard, tasted the tears, and felt the smallest of smiles tug at my mouth. “Adam is going to be a priest.”

Another blow for Emma. Another Lord for the Lord.

Amen.