“Yes, of course he is. Linda, I am so sorry to hear that news. How can I help?”
She patted my hand then lifted her mug to her lips. “You’ve always been so bighearted. I’m so glad this town has you. Kitterman was a dismal mayor. Which is why the paper backed you.”
“I do appreciate all the support you’ve given me and the party over the years. But please, if there is anything I can do to help don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You know what you can do for me?” Her misty eyes lifted from her coffee and settled on me. “You can bring all those campaign promises to fruition.”
“I’ll do my best, I promise.” That was a vow I intended to keep not just for Linda but for all the voters who had taken a chance on the young, inexperienced, queer guy. We made small talk for a bit and then we touched on when Jenny and I were kids, and that led us back to Gideon. As much as I’d wanted to know I’d not wanted to ask right out. Linda, in her usual forward way, dove right into the details.
“Gideon contacted me about a month ago, looking for a staff position on the paper. Just out of the blue he drops me an email asking about employment. I’d sat on the damn thing for over a week, reading it over several times, and wondering how you’d feel about him coming back. I know there were hard feelings between you two boys. Jenny always filled me in on the scuffles. But then we got the news about Paul, Jenny’s husband, and I replied back that same day asking him to take over as EIC. He said he was finishing up things on the West Coast and could be here within the week. I should have come to you and told you…”
“Why? What you do with your paper is your call. Gideon is a bit of a thorn in my side, but he’s a damn good writer. I’ve been reading his book.”
“He’s also prickly like a hedgehog and so fiscally tight his ass cheeks squeak when he walks,” she tossed out then snorted in that piggy manner of hers. That made me snigger. “But he will keep you on your toes. I know you can handle him though. You’re sharp as a tack and quick on your feet. The two of you just might hit it off.” I made a sound of utter disbelief. Linda quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t rule anything out. Pastor Nichols would remind you to love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you.”
I wrinkled my nose. “He would, but I’m not sure there are enough prayers to cover all the persecution Gideon has heaped on me over the years.”
She chuckled. “I wager the good pastor could prove you wrong.”
That following Sunday Linda’s prognostication proved correct. Pastor Nichols had all kinds of prayers and uplifting words for his congregation about loving thy enemy, turning the other cheek, and about how a man’s enemies will be at peace with him if that man’s ways please the Lord. Sitting next to my parents in the second pew, I couldn’t help but think that this week’s sermon was written for my ears above all others. After the service, I did a fast check of the flock and found to my dismay that Gideon Pierce was not in attendance. Huh.
Pastor Nichols pulled me aside on the way out for a quick little monetary talk.
“I think we should have a bake sale,” he said as we lingered outside under a nearly naked beech tree. The dead leaves crinkled under our feet. “We can raise a goodly amount of money with a bake sale. They’re proven fundraisers!”
“You’ve spoken to Aubrey haven’t you?” I peeked around the man of the cloth to try to spy my aide, but I didn’t see him. He’d probably left early to make sure he got us the prime table at Missy May’s Diner. When my gaze came back to the pastor, he was smiling at me.
“Well, just a little. Enough to hear that the arts council turned us down.” He waved at someone passing on the sidewalk, his gray eyes bright with the joy of a packed house on Sunday morning. “Bake sales. One a week right up until the Christmas Carnival.”
“That’s a lot of baking,” I pointed out, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my newest old suit.