After Forty-Five Years Apart, a Pastor Married His High School Sweetheart
I sat at my oak desk counting the Sunday collection envelopes, sorting the bills into neat stacks of twenty.
Arthur sat in the green leather armchair across from me, holding a five-hundred-dollar organ repair bill in his right hand.
He rubbed the heavy gold signet ring on his pinky against the sleeve of his wool coat, three slow circles, before he looked up.
“The vestry needs your signature on this organ estimate before the annual board meeting Tuesday at two,” Arthur said, his voice commanding and condescendingly polite.
“And we need the parish ledger brought up to date for the land trust reauthorization.”
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