Thomas looked angry that he had been bothered for nothing. Then he heard the story and found himself momentarily alone. He started towards the exit but stooped beside her pew.

"Hey... let me tell ya somethin. I been married almost forty years . Me wife passed just a couple of years ago and my kind disappeared when she was young to go marry some random man I think. I ain't been used to being alone in so long. So I can tell you, losing your family  It never gets easy " He pulled a metal flask from his jacket to drink and continued towards the exit.

The old man's words struck a bitter chord within her and she began to weep anew. It wasn't something she was ready to hear, being told that it never got easier. She curled up into a ball, then, and started to speak in Spanish, the word "Dios" being thrown about, which indicated she was praying, hard.

When Gabriel returned with a bandage, he found the woman curled up and crying. He crouched down. "Ma'm...? Let me at least look at that hand. Easy now..."

She’d only finished off the gin. It was just a few sips. No one would notice.

Anita stumbled into the church, down the pew and hit her hip on a bench before falling face-first into it. Righting herself took some twisting and turning, and her skirt was caught under her knee with her hair afray, but Anita sat only slightly swaying in a way she figured meant she was deeply connected to God right now.

This was the right church, right? Close enough.

She smiled at the couple up further, heard a sob, and there was a long few seconds before she realized this was a frowning occasion instead.

She let the priest take care of her and turned her head, tears staining her face, to watch the old man on his way toward the door. "Senor, why would you tell me such a thing? It has to get better than this. My husband and child are gone but I am still here, it isn't fair but it has to be better than this." And then her words died when she saw there was another person in the church. Dios mio, she thought. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

Thomas moved aside to let the other woman in and shook his head. Damn it was busy for such a time of day. He barely glanced over his shoulder towards the crying woman. "Maybe? I guess it depends on how ya wanna move forward. But I don't make it a habit to lie to people."

Ooooooh dear. Gabriel looked uncomfortable. Dealing with this woman alone was hard enough. He did not need a conflict on top of it. "Don't mind him," he whispered to the woman. "Let him be...."

Oh, oof. She felt a little ... stir, in her stomach.

Was she pregnant again?

bbbbrrrrrrrreeEEE-EE-EEEEE-euuuuu pt pt pt

A long, sputtering, squealing fart ricocheted off the wooden pew through the beautifully acoustic church.

Habitually, Anita shot a mildly offended look behind her to deflect blame.

There was no one behind her.

Thank God someone was crying to cover it up.

She didn't know what to say at that point. "It has to change." She did not want to be some bitter old widow, there had to be life after death. Luna looked forlornly to the old man, then to the priest as he spoke, and then froze at the unmistakable sound of somebody breaking wind. Oh, good Lord.

Thomas was about to shrug but his thought was cut off when he heard the sound. He glanced at the new woman in the back and then the grumpy man broke out into roaring laughter. He slipped out and the laughter was replaced with yelling at someone to stop eating the landscape.