“An artist..." her father trailed off, then picked up the thread of his thought.

“Any hack can make art that doesn't offend anybody. Think about every boy-band or flash in the pan pop-star you can name. Nice catchy tunes, forgotten in six months. But there's a reason why Mozart is remembered, and Salieri isn't.

“A true artist challenges people. Makes them sit up and question what they have always been taught was true, or acceptable." As he became caught up in the conversation, he leaned forward, his head Looming over his large hands, which were folded on the table. Sarah eyed them covetously, wondering how they would feel on her skin.

“Yes, some of what I've done is sexual in nature. But I've also done a lot that was political. I caught holy hell when I did a show after 9/11 that was critical of the government."

“Oh, crap, I remember that one," said her mother, with a shake of her head. "I thought we were going to have to move, people were so pissed.

‘How dare he criticize the President?'" she mocked.

“And I've done religious work, as well," he continued. "Some of it was to keep food on the table. I've worked for the Catholic Church. But once I was established enough to do what I wanted, I've done a lot more that was specifically designed to anger the religious establishment.

“For example," he said, slanting his eyes at his wife, “A certain painting about Mary, Joseph, and Jesus."

Sarah jumped in, explaining to Jeremy's confused look, “Daddy did a painting for a show last Christmas. It showed..." she swallowed and continued firmly. "It showed Mary giving Joseph a blow-job, while Baby

Jesus was watching.”

Rachel tightened her Lips, but kept silent.

“Oh,” Jeremy said. His lips crooked in a smile.

“Yeah, that would aggravate some people."

“Some people," Joshua said, “Thought I was doing it just to piss people off. To stoke up outrage and controversy and get people to come to my show to see what the fuss was all about.

“That wasn't what I was doing." Then he caught his wife's cocked eyebrow and amended, "Okay, that wasn't all I was doing. I also wanted to start a conversation about Mary. In some parts of the world, Like

South America or Spain or Italy, she has achieved a cult-like status.

Almost like a goddess. But we have to remember a few things. Even if all the Legends about her are true, she was still a young woman with a husband. Presumably, a husband who Loved her very much, to not put her aside after she claimed to be carrying the son of God.

“I was trying to humanize her," he said, getting up to flip the burgers and brush on some barbeque sauce. Grease dripped and small bursts of flame sprang up where they dropped. Almost absently, Sarah noticed that

Alex and Maria had joined them on the deck and were listening quietly.

“Think abut it. She must have been a very Lovable person. In that time, any other woman would have been cast out and shunned for having a child out of wedlock. Joseph stood by her, even though she must have seemed to be a Lunatic. I'm not saying it was because she was so good at oral sex. But she must have had some amazing qualities. I was trying to show that, in my own clumsy way. There is only so much you can do in oils and paints. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but you can't make your subjects talk."

"You do sculptures, too," her mother pointed out. "Even cast your own bronze. Hard work, and dangerous with the forge in the workshop."

“I do," her father said, putting on the hot dogs and the brats. "Not easy, though, as you said. That side of it never came easy for me.

You're working in three dimensions, rather than just two. And you can't just prepare another canvas and start over if you screw up a sculpture.

But I wanted to stretch myself."

"So what do you think about Mary and Joseph and Jesus, Daddy?" Sarah asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the original subject.