“Relax. I’m sure a man in your profession introduces himself to nearly everyone he meets. Whether they want him to or not. What are you, a priest? Wait ’til I tell my friends I was hit on by a priest.”

At first I couldn’t figure out how she knew, but then realized my clerical collar was still hanging around my neck.

But I’ve seen it all in a small town. Had myself a ball in a small town. Married an L.A. doll and brought her to this small town. Now she’s small town just like me.

“I’m the chaplain at PCI,” I said touching my collar.

“I make deliveries out there sometimes. Big place.”

No I cannot forget where it is that I come from. I cannot forget the people who love me. Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town. And people let me be just what I want to be.

She turned to head back down the rocks and pebbles and oyster shells that served as my driveway toward the big colorful FedEx truck that matched her uniform, the blinking of its flashers rhythmic and hypnotic.

I was just about to ask for her name and maybe even her number when Ernie sped into the driveway, jumped out of his car, and ran to my doorstep, where I was still watching her.

Got nothing against a big town. Still hayseed enough to say look who’s in the big town. But my bed is in a small town. Oh, and that’s good enough for me.

“Sorry I’m late, JJ. Uncle Sal’s getting slower and slower,” Ernie said.

“You’re not late. Just a little early.”

He looked confused, then followed my gaze back down the driveway toward the truck she had disappeared into.

When I didn’t take the pizza box he was trying to shove into my hands, he said, “You want the pizza or the pussy?”

“What?” I asked, digging into my pocket for the money with one hand and slapping him on top of the head with the other.

“I said that will be eight dollars and eighty-nine cents,” he said as he handed me the box.

I was still feeling around in my pockets for the money when I decided to take one more glance down the driveway.

She was standing in the opening on the passenger’s side waving Ernie’s money in the air.

“This one’s on me, Preacher,” she said. “I could use the tax deduction.”

“Thanks,” was all I could manage.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I’d’ve had a nice little buzz going by this time of the day and could’ve come up with a better response.

Ernie ran down the driveway to her truck and got the money faster than I would have thought possible.

They exchanged a few words, laughed, and then she drove off.