12

"No, no, no, he's singing in Portuguese. I know a fado when I hear one. I’d recognize one even under water," replied the singer.

"Well, whatever it is, I don't understand a single word. Romance languages are all the same mambo jambo to me," said Mrs. Thurlow dismissively. "I tried to learn Spanish years ago, driven by what I'd read in Hemingway books, but I gave up as soon as we went to Spain for our honeymoon. Right, Steve?" she asked her husband.

Stephen Maximilian Fitspatrick, better known as Steve, hadn't opened his mouth all night, but he'd heard every single word. He wasn't a bad-tempered man, but he'd long appreciated the company of his dogs more than that of his wife's friends. So Steve nodded and took a long sip of Oporto. For a moment, he seemed to be about to say something, but instead he remained silent, looking at the piano with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I agree with Mrs. Thurlow," said the writer. "I've never been to Spain, but I did have an Italian girlfriend for six months, and though I was madly in love with her, I could never speak a word of Italian," she said, lighting a cigarette.

As soon as she finished, there was a thick silence. "What, you didn't know?" she asked, surprised. "Yes, I'm a lesbian, born and raised, but don’t worry... it's not contagious. I wish it were, though."

"But that’s terrible, Camille!" exclaimed Mrs. Thurlow.

"Excuse me??" the writer asked, her eyes wide open in disbelief.

"I mean, with all due respect, what about having children?/what will happen to having childen?" Mrs. Thurlow asked in distress.

"Geez, Mrs. Thurlow…I said I'm a lesbian, not a spayed cat," the writer retorted sharply. "Besides, that’s not in my bucket list, but if it were, I could always make an exception."

The bishop shifted uncomfortably in his seat and changed the subject. "I studied Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, and also Latin in college."

"Wow, that's quite an accomplishment, Father Murray," complimented the philosopher. "How did you manage to learn them all?"

The bishop chuckled, "I just had to hit the books non-stop..."

Everyone found the comment amusing and laughed.

The bishop was a man of faith from head to toe and never wore anything that wasn't his clerical clothing. But as a man who was also passionate about fishing and chess, it wasn't unusual to see him at the bar, deep in a game of chess — he jokingly said that chess gave him the opportunity to mingle with other bishops.

(To be continued)