An Equinox gale was roaring down the chimney and sending the waves crashing up Bain’s Beach. Outside, Duncan was getting drenched putting out the sandbags. Jimmy took out three mugs from the cupboard and put the kettle on. Tea was definitely needed. On further consideration he also took out the half-full bottle of Jura and poured himself and Duncan a dram.
“You know,” said James Perez from the sofa, “yesterday was the Feast of St Joseph.”
He was on good form today. The wind seemed to have blown some of the cobwebs right off. Jimmy poured the tea. “That right, Dad? Aren’t we a wee bit low-church for saints’ days?”
“Aye, lad, but no harm in knowing what other denominations are doing with their time. You know my views. Ecumenism and interfaith dialogue are at the heart of community-building.”
Jimmy grinned. Definitely a good day. That was the old James Perez, the lay preacher, devout but open-minded and always looking for a teaching opportunity. “Well, I won’t argue with that. Will I get you a slice of cake with your tea? Duncan made it.”
“I won’t say no,” said his dad. “You know, Jimmy,” he said, looking down at his book again, “some people regard St Joseph as the patron saint of step-fathers.”
“Oh aye? Well, that makes sense, I suppose.”
“Now I woulda bought Jimmy a St Joseph’s Day card,” said Duncan, breezing into the kitchen with his hair sopping and his face glowing from the chill. “But I did think that from me it might come across as a wee bit arrogant.”