to build equity in our own places. The wife got half the proceeds, but that left me with my housing budget.â
Must have been a really nice house. âYou must have been at your last church for a long time, to pay off your mortgage.â
âToo long, if you ask me.â He watched the houses go by. âOur ministry grew so huge, I felt like I was riding a brontosaurus every day. The next thing I knew, our kids were grown and on their own. My workload was more than my wife could take. So she decided to quit trying to win me back from the church and found someone else who wanted her.â
He shook his head. âTalk about a wake-up call. After she left, I decided to make way for a younger pastor and look for a smaller congregation that didnât need a big staff.â
On the rebound?
âFirst Baptist has a great core congregation,â I assured him. âAnd since the building boom crashed, theyâve stabilized at a reasonably intimate membership.â
âSo Ed Lumpkin told me.â
I grinned. âAh, yes. Ed.â Heâd been running the church for years, de facto. âIt would be wise to make him your ally.â
Connor Allen shot me a knowing look. âI appreciate the heads-up.â
I really liked this man. But as usual, I jumped to rash conclusions immediately and assumed he was a teetotaling Bible-banger.
Drat. Drat, drat, drat!
I pulled into the driveway of the clapboard ranch house just a few blocks from the church. âHere we are.â
The grass had been cut, but the house had no other plantings and looked neglected. Inside, it was bland and nondescript, clean but not redecorated since the sixties. âWhatâs your impression?â I asked Connor Allen.
He didnât even ask the price. âItâs a bit too ⦠plain for my tastes. A traditional exterior is fine, but Iâd really prefer something a bit more updated inside. With some character.â
âThen I think youâll really like one I have scheduled for later. But I wanted you to see the bottom of the market for your qualifications, first. This oneâs only sixty-five thousand.â
He shook his head with a smile. âAs my history attests, being a minister doesnât leave me time to do much else, so Iâd rather not see anything that needs work.â
I mentally deleted all the other olde-towne listings but the one next door to Miss Mamieâs. When weâd both gotten back in the van and buckled up, I decided to do something Iâd never done before.
I mean, heck, he was my last customer. Might as well, right?
âWould you prefer to see more listings that donât exactly fit your preferences,â I asked him, âto get a feel for whatâs available? There are more I can show you a few blocks farther out. Or would you rather I take you to the one close by I think youâll like best?â
Connor Allen laughed. âGood for you. I like someone whoâs honest and direct. Iâm the same way.â He leaned back in his seat. âTake me to the one Iâll like.â
I did, and when we passed First Baptist, then Miss Mamieâs, I pointed them out.
âWow,â he said, scanning our house as we drove by. âYou live in a mansion.â He didnât even seem to notice the bathtub on our verandah, which was a definite plus.
âAs you can see,â I told him when we turned onto the crushed-granite driveway next door, âitâs very convenient to the church. Just a few blocksâ walk on our fancy new sidewalks.â
In the short time since Julia had alerted Jerry, heâd gotten the grass cut and edged, and had had someone touch up the subtle blue exterior and white trim. The mature plantings in the yard had been trimmed, and the giant oak behind the house shaded it from the morning sun.
Connor Allen leaned forward and took it all in through the windshield as if he were looking at the original Ark