“He climbed out of the cab and crossed the snow-patched sidewalk in a couple of steps. Large black letters on the glass door spelled the Arapaho word Ne:hi:3ei, the Center. A young woman with thick black hair that flowed like a shawl over her shoulders looked up from the desk in the lobby. “Well, hi, Father,” she said, pedaling her chair back a few inches, as if to welcome a conversation. “Is Eden Lightfoot in?” Father John asked. Odors of perfume and stale coffee permeated the air. The building... was designed in a V shape, with the offices of the business councilmen down one corridor and tribal offices down the other. From somewhere came the muffled sound of a ringing telephone. “I’ll tell him you’re here.” The young woman pedaled back to the desk, picked up the phone, and punched in a couple of numbers. “Father O’Malley to see you,” she said. There was a long pause, confusion and surprise mingling on her face. Then, “I’ll tell him.” Cradling the receiver, embarrassment in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry, Father.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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