Working on the Marriage

“Then I’m happy for you, Josef!” Mendoza nodded approvingly, "It has been a long, hard road for you. I’ve been praying every day for you and your family.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Speaking of your family,” Mendoza cast a meaningful glance towards the doorway where Ranell’s wife had just disappeared inside, “how are things at home?”

Ranell couldn’t help but laugh, “Gabriel! Just because I haven’t been to church in a couple of months doesn’t mean you have to bring the confessional here.”

“I just want to know how my friends are doing!” Mendoza spread his hands with an expression of feigned innocence.

“We are doing so great now, I can hardly believe it.” Ranell cupped his chin in one hand, and his features grew serious. In a hushed voice, he continued. “For a while there, I didn’t think we were going to make it. But seriously, when GML turned around, and all the pressure came off, we finally had time to work on us. We even took a vacation together. It was wonderful.”

“A vacation?” Mendoza asked with mock alarm. “I thought you were too busy with work to come to church. Now you tell me you were on vacation?"

Ranell grinned and winked, ‘Working on my marriage is still work.”

The two settled back into a comfortable silence, enjoying the day. At this moment, Ranell thought contentedly, I’ve got everything I ever wanted.

Mendoza smiled, but his eyes still looked haunted and sad. Ranell knew he was worried about his parishioners. Even though Ranell hadn’t attended mass in what seemed like ages, he had been watching the horrific news reports.

“What’s wrong Raphael?”

Mendoza pulled thoughtfully on the end of his long beard. “I was just thinking about Venezuela. I was there when the bishops led the charge for Maduro’s removal.” He paused to take a long drink of cool water, then continued, “That was long ago, but I remember it well. I remember how it felt to see people starving to death in the streets.”

The contrast between Ranell’s well-being and the dire situation Mendoza described couldn’t have been more stark. Americans can't possibly have it as bad as the Venezuelans did.