I think I knew—but didn’t want to admit—that it upset me so much because Julie was choosing Delia over me. Which was childish: Delia was Julie’s mother. But there was no doubt that, of the five of us, Delia had been Daddy’s favorite, which as a child I always felt really deeply. I was always trying to be the best for him, have his beer for him when he got home and his slippers by the door, so he would love me too. But he was always Delia’s. Sure, as a forty-five-year-old woman, I could see that being the favorite of an abusive alcoholic was no great shakes. But that latent trauma is hard to overcome. And it had made me act ridiculous last night.

I sighed as I walked through the door of the church that always felt like it saved me from myself, and picked up the morning prayer bulletin that listed the relevant prayer book pages and provided the readings for the day.

Morning prayer was usually attended by maybe five or six parishioners—so few, in fact, that I always wondered how Father Matthew could justify it. But there was something soothing about the emptiness too. It was the exact opposite of the jubilant Sunday mornings where I got to sing and feel wrapped in the loving embrace of promises I couldn’t see but believed all the same. Even after what I had been through, I believed them.

I sat down in my usual pew, the front row of the back section of the church. It was far away from the priest in these smaller services, but I liked it here, the sun streaming through the stained glass windows all around me. I felt safe here. I couldn’t say that about many places.

Bonnie slid in beside me and patted my knee. “How you doing, sweetie?”

I scrunched my nose. “Honestly… I let my sister get to me last night, and I was not my best self,” I whispered.

“We can’t always be,” she whispered back. “We’re all just doing the best we can.”

Leslie slid in beside Bonnie, looking flushed. As Father Matthew emerged from the side door and approached the sanctuary, she grinned at him like he held the key to her salvation. To my shock, he smiled back at her.

“Leslie, you dog!” I whispered. “Is your little plan working?”

She winked at me and pretended to shine her nails on the lapel of her jacket. Bonnie, Leslie, and I laughed quietly.