
David Logan swiveled his chair and stared out the window. A worried expression wrinkled his brow. He clenched the arms of the chair. A funeral should be simple. He knew the ritual, but he was expected to speak about the man who had died. He groaned. Maybe he wasn't meant to be a minister. He'd stared at the blank computer screen until his eyes blurred.
His first official duty and he was going to fail. How many ministers faced a problem the size of his in their first congregation? How many returned to the town where they'd been raised? The call to this congregation had pleased and excited him until he learned about the funeral. He pulled the sermon he'd prepared to deliver on Sunday. Forgiveness was the theme. And today, that was the last thing he could consider.
If only the funeral was for anyone but Ira Griggans, the meanest man in town. A tight vise gripped David's chest. He had hated the old man. David closed the file and leaned back. He unbuttoned his shirt at the neck. What was he going to do? Running away wasn't an option and neither did facing his feelings seem to be.
The study door opened. His wife stepped into the room. Jeannie's pregnancy was just beginning to show. I love her so much. How will she react when she learns I'm a failure?
She put a mug of coffee on the desk and kissed him. "You look tired."
"Conflicted. The funeral service." He clasped her hand. "I don't think I can do this. That means I'm a failure even before I begin. Might as well go back to work for Dad."
She traced his lips with a finger. "You are not a failure. You're pushing too hard. My dad always talks to people who knew the dead person so he'll have a complete picture."
David groaned. "That's my problem. I knew Ira too well."
"Did you?" She kissed him and left.
David inhaled the aromatic steam of the coffee, then drained the cup. What did she mean? Of course he knew Ira Griggans. He leaned back in the chair and thought of the summer he'd been forced to work in the man's garden when all his friends had been playing ball or swimming. The tightness in his chest made him gasp for breath when the memory flashed in his thoughts.
A hot summer afternoon. David and three friends had decided to snitch some melons from Ira's garden. David still cringed when he thought of the man's big hands. Ira had yelled. David's friends had run. So had David, but he tripped over a vine.
"What you doin', Boy."
David shrank away. The man's fierce gaze made him shake. "Uh...uh..."
"Never thought John's boy would be a thief. What's your father gonna say?"
"I'm sorry." David toed the ground.
"Let's go see your father."