After Forty-Five Years Apart, a Pastor Married His High School Sweetheart

Arthur didn’t pick up the pen.

He looked up at me, his eyes red around the edges.

“The ninety-two thousand dollars will be wired into the church trust account before eleven o’clock tomorrow morning,” Arthur said, his voice thin and flat.

“And the church land deed stays in the rectory safe,” I said, resting both hands on the back of a wooden chair.

“Forty years ago I thought I was saving the church from going bankrupt,” Arthur whispered, looking down at his knuckles.

“Things got tangled.”