Mitch grumbled to himself and plopped down in an old armchair. The arms were threadbare, worn down by the anxious hands of old men seeking advice about how to divide up their land without destroying their families, married couples seeking counseling, and teenage boys wondering if the Bible really said fornication was a sin. And a man rubbing at the fabric and asking what he was supposed to do now that he was alone. How he was supposed to help Bea. What he was supposed to say to all the people telling him God had a plan when all he wanted to do was punch them in the face.

“Your parents missed the service again,” Frank said. “When did you say your mom’s CT scan is?”

“Next Friday morning.”

“Will they be doing any other tests?”

“I think they’ll do the full blood and urine tests at the same time. Dr. Wilson suggested doing it when we were there last week, but Mom was so upset we decided not to. I was afraid she might hurt someone if they tried to stick a needle in her arm.”

“Your mother is a strong, independent woman.”

“You can say that again.”

“And how’s Bea?”

“She had her first doctor’s appointment this week. Said she’s due May fourteenth.”

Frank smiled like he meant it. “That’s wonderful.”

Mitch wasn’t so sure, but he kept his doubts to himself. “Still can’t believe I’m going to be a grandpa.”

Without Caroline. It would’ve been the highlight of her life to hold a grandchild in her arms. To babysit. To knit little pink or blue booties and take a million pictures.

Mitch remembered his last conversation with Frank and looked Frank in the eye. “And how are you this week?”

Frank hesitated.

“And don’t give me any sort of ‘everything’s fine and I’m just blessed to be serving the Lord’ crap.”

“It’s not crap if it’s true.”

Mitch raised his eyebrows. “Okay, is it true?”

Frank heaved a sigh the size of a seventy-person congregation and slumped in his chair. “No.”

Prickles of guilt jabbed Mitch’s chest. He and Frank used to talk about everything. Mitch had prided himself on being the one person besides Dorothy whom Frank could unload on about challenges he faced as Moose Creek Community Church’s only pastor.

Mitch shifted in his seat. “What’s going on?”

Not that he had the right to ask.

Frank pinched his forehead. “Bob’s stirring up trouble again. You know how he gets on different kicks and goes all in without thinking it over.”

Mitch nodded. Bob was a repeat offender in that department. “What’d he do this time?”

“He started a new Bible study in his house about speaking in tongues.”

Mitch waited.

“And told everyone I approved it.”

“Ah.”

“Now there’s a small faction calling for my head.”