factotum role with grace and r diplomacy. If he got out of her way-which he fully intended to do-everything would run like a finely crafted timepiece.
Mary liked Father Tully immediately. He was a priest, which started him off on the right foot. And his personality seemed much like Father Koesler’s. She very much prized Father Koesler.
After peeling Father Koesler away from St. Joe’s rectory, Father Tully spent a relaxing afternoon getting acquainted with the buildings and the “feel” of St. Joe’s.
Also, it was fun anticipating meeting his brother and sister-in-law-two entities whom, up until just days previously, he hadn’t known existed. By the time the late model Ford Escort pulled up to the curb, Father Tully was more than ready to meet his spanking new family.
He was not surprised that the attractive woman driver was alone. Anne Marie, his sister-in-law, had phoned earlier to explain that his brother couldn’t get off work until at least five-thirty at the earliest. She would pick up the priest at that time and they would all meet at their home.
As he reached to open the car door, she leaned across the passenger seat and smiled up at him. “Father Tully, I presume.”
He thought his ears would crack from the width of his answering grin. “Mrs. Tully, I presume,” he replied as he entered the car.
“That title seems so foreign to that last name,” Anne Marie said. “I still can’t imagine somebody named Tully being a priest.
“If you feel uneasy about the title, how about me? The only Mrs. Tully I’ve ever known was my mother.”
They both laughed as they began the short trip to the Tully condo.
It would be a while before they became sufficiently comfortable to be in each other’s company in silence. For now, conversation seemed necessary. Besides, there was lots of ground to cover.
“I don’t know everything you and Z-uh, your brother talked about on the phone the other day. But I thought we could clear up some ticklish areas before you two meet in person.”
“Sounds good.” Father Tully was aware that each time the car stopped, for traffic or a streetlight, Anne Marie turned to study him. Undoubtedly she was searching for a resemblance to his brother. Her husband.
“We’re taking a slightly roundabout route to give us a bit more time,” she said. “First off, your brother has been married and divorced. And in between that marriage and me, there was a significant other.”
“I didn’t know.”
“The marriage produced five children. They and their mother moved to Chicago when the divorce was final. The girlfriend and your brother parted amicably.”
The priest nodded.
“I’m telling you this specifically, Father, because it is important for you to know about your brother and me.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Yes, I do. It’s probably going to make you wonder. See, I’m Catholic. And we were married in the Catholic Church.”
“Alonzo got an annulment for his first marriage?”
Anna Marie sighed. “There’s the rub. Your brother is not Catholic.” Sometimes, she thought, I wonder if he’s even religious. “We went to a priest friend of mine who is pastor of a core-city parish in a very poor neighborhood. Mostly because I wanted it, he tried to find some reason why an annulment might be sought, let alone granted.”
“Nothing there?” The priest began to anticipate the outcome of this story.
“The Church does not consider an overwhelming devotion to job, and duty a reason to grant an annulment.”
“Married to his job, eh? I’ve known a lot of cops in that fix. By the way, does he-or do you-object to the word ‘cop’?”
“Not at all.”
“So what happened? When you had to forget the declaration of nullity, I mean?”
“My priest suggested something he called ’a pastoral solution.…
“You just get married in civil law,” Tully completed the explanation, “and look on that as your valid marriage and go from there. Go to Mass. Take Communion. Count on your conscience to lead you.
She glanced at him, surprised that he was familiar with a procedure that she had thought most rare-probably reserved to a few inner-city priests, and maybe only in the Archdiocese of Detroit at that.
He read her thoughts. “Surprised?.”
“Yes, frankly.”
“Don’t be. The procedure’s been around a long time. Another spillover from the Second Vatican Council … although not specifically conciliar. More a theological development from the
“The trouble is, of course, that it isn’t canonical. So it can’t be applied openly. You called it ‘a pastoral solution’-and so it is. But it might just as well be called ‘a triumph of conscience.’ Because whatever it’s called, it recognizes the supremacy of conscience.
“So, you followed your priest’s advice.”
“No.”
“No!.”
“I needed something more. Blame whatever, I needed more than my conscience told me.”
“You needed … a ceremony?”
“Exactly. And that’s what my priest gave us. It was a simple ceremony. No Mass. But
“One of the problems-maybe the only problem-is that a lot depends on the tone of the diocese. And that’s set by the bishop. And bishops come in assorted sizes, shapes, and dispositions. Your bishop, Cardinal Boyle, is reputed to be open. Which, in this case, means merely that he wouldn’t take any action against one of his priests who applied the ‘pastoral solution.’ Not unless his back was against the wall.
“I think your priest, whoever he is, was taking a larger than usual risk.”
“Why?” Anne Marie hadn’t considered that there could be any risk attached to that quiet ceremony.
“My brother! He’s an officer in the Homicide Division, isn’t he?” The priest didn’t wait for an answer to his rhetorical question. “He’s in a position where he can and probably does appear in the media-the papers, radio, TV. It’s always possible for someone to learn that Lieutenant Tully got married in a less than strictly orthodox way. If that happens, he gets some coverage. Then, even with a bishop like Cardinal Boyle, a whole bunch of stuff can hit the fan.”
“It didn’t.”
“I’m glad. I’m truly glad. But the priest here really took a chance.”
Anne Marie felt an even deeper gratitude to her priest, now that she realized how he had gone out on a limb to satisfy her need for a ceremony.
They were silent for a few moments.
“May I ask you, Father, did you ever counsel anyone in the ‘pastoral solution’?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did you ever conduct a wedding service like I had?”
“Yes. But there were times when I was able to convince a couple that it was wiser to stay in the internal forum-just trusting everything to God and a conscience that is not attempting to deceive God.”
“Just out of curiosity, Father, why would you counsel against such a ceremony?”
The priest snorted. “Not because anyone I married or counseled was famous or likely to get a picture in the paper. My parishes don’t run on that level. We-all the Josephite parishes-aren’t moving in the fast lane.
“But, you see, we aren’t diocesan priests. We’re a religious order. We don’t belong to any one diocese. We have parishes in lots of different dioceses. And when we move into such a parish, we fall under the jurisdiction of the local ordinary-the bishop. And, let me assure you, all bishops are not Cardinal Boyle.”
“Well,” Anne Marie said, “anyway, I wanted you to know. And I wanted to explain our situation to you before, the three of us got together. It would be awkward for Zoo. He just went along with everything because he wanted to please me. He didn’t know or care about what was going on. From that time on, it was ‘What you don’t know
