If Frank felt any shock at seeing him, it didn’t show. “Hey, Mitch. Good to see you.”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“You know, I was just about to take an early lunch break.” Frank gestured over his shoulder. “I’ll meet you out back in five minutes.”

Mitch nodded once and turned away. As the door quacked on his way out, he chuckled to himself thinking about inviting Jeremy to go hunting with him. That would be something. If the kid could barely handle a two-hour football game at twenty-eight degrees, he’d never survive a ten-degree morning up Brackett Creek.

He took his time circling around the store to the metal picnic table where he and Frank had had many a talk. His friend was already waiting. Or should he say former friend? Frank was definitely his former pastor, but the friendship thing was still up in the air as far as Mitch was concerned.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Frank paused while Mitch sat down, then gave him that probing, concerned look Mitch had seen a hundred times. “How are you?”

This was not the kind of man who would accept fine as an answer to that question.

Mitch shrugged. “Got a lot going on.”

Frank nodded. “I heard about Bea. I can’t believe you’re going to be a grandpa before me.”

“You can’t win every time, Frank.”

“It’s not a competition.”

A small spark of anger lit in Mitch’s chest. “Don’t use your pastor voice on me.”

Frank sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s a habit.”

The sincerity of his apology threw sand on Mitch’s internal fire. He let his shoulders relax and leaned his arms on the table. “Here’s something else you won’t believe. Bea’s baby is the least of my worries right now.”

Frank’s eyebrows rose. “Tell me more.”

“You know Marge? She keeps showing up. At my house. Bringing food and checking in and asking about my birthday.”

“That’s nice of her.”

Was that a twinkle in his eye? Mitch frowned. “And then there’s my mom. She’s not doing well.”

Frank visibly deflated at that news. “That explains why I haven’t seen your parents at church in a while.”

“Yeah.” Now that the floodgates had been opened, Mitch couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I thought Dad was crazy at first when he told me something was wrong. She seemed the same as always, except for the pies. But when we took her to the neurologist for a consultation, she turned into a completely different person. Confused. Belligerent. They’re going to do more tests. I think Dad’s really struggling.”

Frank tilted his head to one side. “The pies?”