The Influence(10)
“What’s Piccadilly pie?” Ross asked the girl.
She giggled, turning away. The woman behind the stall smiled. “She made it up. She just likes the way it sounds. We do have farm-fresh mushrooms, though. All organic.”
Ross was not a big mushroom fan, but the woman and her girl seemed nice, so he looked at the display out of politeness. Lita smiled at the woman. “Hi there, Hattie.”
“Hi yourself, Lita.”
“You have any of those Portobellos?”
“Of course I do. How many do you want?”
“I’ll take three for now.”
“Coming right up.”
Lita paid for the mushrooms, which were placed in a small bag, and the two of them headed back to where Dave was waiting as the little girl chanted behind them. ““Farm fresh mushrooms, Piccadilly pie! Farm fresh mushrooms, Piccadilly pie!”
They arrived back just as a rotund man in a priest’s collar stopped by to examine a carton of eggs.
“Good morning, Father,” Lita said, stepping around the table.
The man smiled kindly. “Good day to you, Lita. And to you, too, David. I trust this is your new guest?”
Word, apparently, had spread.
“My cousin, Ross,” Lita introduced him. “Father Ramos.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” the priest said, extending a hand.
Ross shook. Father Ramos’ grip was dry and surprisingly firm.
“How much are you going to set me back this week?” he asked Dave.
“For you?” Dave grinned. “The same price as everyone else. Three dollars a dozen.”
The priest laughed. “I’ve said it before. You would be an asset to our congregation. May I expect to see you this Sunday?”
“You never give up, do you?”
“It’s part of the job description. So how about it?”
“We’ll take it into consideration,” Lita told him, smiling.
“A man cannot but try.” He looked at Ross. “You are welcome as well. All are welcome.”
Ross nodded his thanks for the invitation without committing himself. He was not a churchgoing person, never had been, but he liked Father Ramos and did not want to hurt the man’s feelings. The priest paid for and picked up his eggs, said “Peace be with you” to all of them, then moved on to the Native American family at the next stall.
Ross looked over at his cousin. “If I remember correctly, you used to go to church every Sunday. In fact, when you stayed with us, we had to go to church, when we should have been out playing. You don’t go anymore?”
“I’m not Catholic.”
“What are you?”
“Nothing. I used to be Methodist, and, you’re right, we did go to church every week. After what happened with my parents, though, I kind of got turned off religion. It’s hard to believe in an all-good, all-powerful God when you see bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people.”
“I’ve always been a heathen,” Dave said helpfully.
Ross laughed. He nodded toward the adobe church at the end of the street. “So is that Father Ramos’ place?”
“Yeah,” Lita said.
“Looks like it’s the only church in town.”
She waggled her hand back and forth in a maybe-yes-maybe-no motion. “Sort of. There’s some sort of wacky hardcore fundamentalist sect that meets in different people’s living rooms, but I think Father Ramos has the only official church in Magdalena.”
“He seems like a good guy,” Ross observed.
Dave smiled. “And a good customer. I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word ‘cholesterol.’”
Ross glanced around at the slowly growing crowd. “So Magdalena really is like one of those little towns where everyone knows everyone else.”
“I guess so,” Dave conceded.
“Is that good or bad?”
“A little bit of both,” Lita said.
Another man was approaching, a tall guy with a thick black beard, wearing a battered straw cowboy hat.
Lita nodded at him. “Here comes Jackass McDaniels, our resident handyman, plumber, roofer, electrician, everything.”
“I think he can hear you,” Ross whispered.
“Oh, that’s his name. At least, that’s what he calls himself and what everyone else calls him. I’m sure his parents didn’t name him that, but—”
The man held out a rough hand. “Jackass McDaniels, jack-of-all-trades. Pleased to meet you…?”
“Ross,” he said. “Ross Lowry.”
Lita put a hand around his shoulder. “My cousin.”
“Well, any cousin a Lita’s is a…friend a mine?” He shook his head. “No, that don’t sound right. It’s somethin’ like that, though. Anyway, you need any work done on your house or your car or you just need an extra hand to help out, give me a holler. Lita and Dave know where to find me.”