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“Right, but the idea that youcould, that’s what’s scary. He wants to feel better, but he’s afraid to because it might give you power over him. That’s not an easy place to be.”

“As if I care about his feelings,” I snort.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” Ben says with a small smile. “I’m just letting you know why he’s acting this way. You wanted to learn about human behavior, didn’t you?”

“I suppose so,” I reply, then take another sip of cocoa and relish the way it slides down the back of my throat.

Theo walks some distance ahead of us, and stops to speak to a man seated on one of the park benches. He is older, with a wild gray beard and bushy eyebrows sticking out from under his tattered winter hat. His clothes are dirty, patched, and there is a large backpack sitting beside him, also filthy and worn. At his feet lies a large, fluffy, reddish-brown dog, who raises its head when Theo approaches.

“What is he doing?” I ask Ben, who stops walking. “Who is that man?”

“That’s Mr. Monroe and Roger. He’s homeless, but he stays around this part of town most of the time.”

“Homeless?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t have a place to live.”

“Where does he sleep?”

“Wherever he can find a safe, warm spot. Park benches, alleyways. When I was a parish priest, I’d have him crash on the couch in the church basement on Saturday nights, then take him to breakfast before Mass.”

“Does Theo know him too?”

“I’m not sure. Come on.” He walks over to stand behind Theo, who is now crouched in front of Mr. Monroe, scratching Roger behind the ears.

“Hey, Monty,” Ben says, reaching a hand out. Mr. Monroe’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, showing several missing teeth. He grabs Ben’s hand and shakes it with some enthusiasm.

“Father Ben!” he croaks. “Where the hell you been?”

“Not a Father anymore. They finally got rid of me.”

“I heard,” says Mr. Monroe, his bright blue eyes flickering over to me. “Sorry for ya, Ben, but I guess it was only a matter of time. You ain’t cut out for all that bullshit anyway.”

Ben just laughs. “Monty, do you know my new friend, Theo?”

“We just met,” says Theo, who is now fending off an affectionate attack from Roger. “I was telling him how much Roger reminds me of the dog I had when I was a kid.”

“And who isthisbeautiful angel?” Mr. Monroe asks, looking up at me. I cannot help but smile at his egregious misconception.

“This is my Annie,” Ben says, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him. My instinct is to move away, but I cannot deny that I enjoy the way this feels. Ben is warm and solid, and the way he holds on to me sends another strange spark burning throughmy chest.

“Oh, Father Ben,” says the old man with a wink, “if she’s the one who got you defrocked, I’d say it was worth it.”

“Nah,” Ben chuckles, “Annie would never take a priest to bed, would you,mi amor?”

“Not in a million years,” I say, playing along. Theo laughs too, and Ben offers Monty his cup of cocoa.

“Promise I haven’t had any yet, but it might be cold cocoa by now.”

I am not sure what makes me do it, but I reach out and put my fingers on the cup, pouring my own heat into it until steam rises from the hole in the lid.

“It seems nice and hot to me,” I say, daring a glance down at Theo. He gives me a tense smile, then looks at Ben.

“I was just telling Monty that Roger seems like he needs a good bath and a brush out before it gets really cold. I have a friend, Jaime, who volunteers at the city shelter on Saturdays. If we can get you two over there, he can take care of Roger and have him back to you in less than an hour.”

Mr. Monroe seems tickled by this. “You got yourself a deal, boy.”

“Great idea,” says Ben, “and while Roger is getting pampered, maybe Theo and I can take you to lunch, Monty. Sound good?”