Vanita took off her glasses and squinted at them. "My, my, these bifocals of mine may need a tune up."

From the back seat Luella said, "Could be that those old eyes of yours are what needs a tune-up."

Just then, the organ music coming through the radio faded to a quiet whine, and Dez heard someone clear his throat. A pleasant, bass voice spoke over the soft tones of the organ. "Good morning to all of you on the Sunday before the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. We welcome all of you here for our fourth monthly drive up church service. God’s blessings to each of you, and may the grace of our Lord God rain down upon you all. We have plenty of room inside the church should any of you drive up participants decide to join us. The day is cool, but the church is warm. The rest rooms are available, too. Just come in the rear of the church behind the kids’ play area. Otherwise, today’s worship will consist of a standard service without any unusual bells and whistles. The first hymn will be number 176 in the red hymnal. A couple of housekeeping items... first, we have two assistant pastors today to come out with communion, but due to a lack of acolytes, we will not bring any wine or grape juice. Secondly, at the sharing of the peace, please feel free to honk, but if you could limit your sharing to one brief honking of the horn, it would be appreciated by our neighbors around us. Thank you for attending today, and we’ll get started in about sixty seconds."

Dez turned and looked over her shoulder at Luella to find her friend laughing silently. In a dry voice, the dark-haired woman said, "This is the craziest set-up I’ve ever seen. You two been here before?"

Through giggles Luella said, "Nope. But so far, it’s great." She went off into a peal of laughter, joined by Vanita.

The service began, and the three women followed along. Dez sang the hymns quietly, amused to hear Vanita’s warbly old lady voice in contrast to her landlady’s strong bellow. She thought that the noise coming from their car must sound pretty bad, but when she looked surreptitiously around at the occupants of other cars, everyone else was singing without reserve.

In a little while, when it was time for the sharing of the peace, she waited for the minister’s cue, then honked her horn, one short blast, with the rest of the D.U.C. attendees. The people in the mini van next to them smiled and waved out their window, and she waved back. The honking had awakened the two children in the back seat of the car on the other side of them, and she could hear their wails over the organ music. Vanita reached over and turned up the radio.

When the time for communion drew near, she told her friends that she was skipping communion. "This is too odd, ladies. I feel like we’re at the A&W Drive-In."

"Your choice, hon," Luella said. She reached up and patted Dez on the shoulder. "Rest assured that they won’t be bringing us any ketchup and mustard to go with the wafers." Luella laughed, a hearty bleat which her sister joined.

Vanita said, "And they don’t roller skate out, either."

Dez shook her head and listened to them laugh some more. She wished she could find as much humor in this as they were, but she was tired and glum, and the world around them was cloudy and cold. The communion song began.

O God, the Rock of Ages, Who evermore hast been, What time the tempest rages, Our dwelling place serene . . .

She listened to the clear soprano voice, joined by a huskier alto and a quiet piano. The church door opened, and two ministers bustled out and began to make their rounds as the duet sang on.

Our years are like the shadows on sunny hills that lie, Or grasses in the meadows that blossom but to die, A sleep, a dream, a story, by strangers quickly told, An unremaining glory of things that soon are old.

Suddenly, she was filled with longing and an ache that pressed down on her chest so hard that she wasn’t sure she could breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to cry. Too late.

"I’ll be back," she mumbled. "I need some fresh air . . . ."

She bolted from the car, slamming shut the big heavy door in time to see two pairs of surprised eyes peering up at her, then she took the shortest route past the rest of the parking lot attendees. She wasn’t sure what it was about music that tapped the depths of her despair, but if anything made her feel vulnerable, it was a melancholy song. She strode quickly along the sidewalk to the front of the gigantic brick church, taking in deep breaths of the frozen air. Talk to myself, that’s what Marie says. Talk myself down off this ledge. She paced the length of the block to the corner, then turned and stalked back toward the other corner. I’m lonely. I miss her. I miss my old life. I miss Ryan. I miss feeling like a normal human being. I feel... that’s it... I feel. And I don’t want to feel. It’s easier to stay in control if I don’t have to feel, dammit!

Tears sprang to her eyes again. Marie had told her that because she had stuffed her emotions for so long, it would take some time to get used to how strong those feelings could be. And now that she had begun to actually feel them again, it was just as Marie had said. How embarrassing.

She heard Marie’s voice in her head: "You wouldn’t say ‘how embarrassing’ to someone else who came to you for comfort, Dez. Why wouldn’t you comfort yourself the way you’d comfort a friend or one of Ryan’s children?"

She reached the corner and turned again. The light breeze cut through her jacket, and she dug her hands into her slacks pockets. She slowed to a stroll, her head down, as she shivered, then stopped. I can’t live like this anymore.